A literotic sexstories: Diary of a Slave Merchant – 2008 (part 7) by eyToad ,
1:22pm”EEEEEEEEE!!!” Katie shrieked.
Baby, Flower and I all sprang to life, looking around in confusion. Eventually, I focused my blurry eyes on Katie. She was sitting on the edge of the couch, looking down at her naked crotch, her t-shirt sliced open in the front, hanging by the intact sleeves.
“What… happened?!” she asked loudly, the second word much higher pitched than the first. She apparently hadn’t noticed the loose-fitting collar around her neck yet, or the light chain hanging down her back.
Baby and Flower looked around, confused and disoriented.
“What is it, Katie?” Baby asked, rubbing her eyes with both hands.
“I… who…” Katie stammered.
She looked at me, sitting on the floor, bare chested, the blanket covering me below the waist.
“Him!” she shouted angrily, nodding her head toward me, pulling her shirt together and closing her legs.
“What?” Baby asked, “Him what?”
“He… he raped me!” Katie accused.
“That’s… that’s crazy!” Baby proclaimed.
“Look at me!” Katie screeched, “He raped me!”
“Now wait just a minute…” I began, deciding to play this out a little, “Don’t you remember?”
“Remember what? I would *never*…”, Katie trailed off, then pointed at me and continued, “He… he *raped* me!”
“C’mon, Katie,” Flower interjected, “We were all pretty high…”
“Look at my shirt!” She exclaimed, flapping it open a few times so they could see it had been cut. I caught a quick glimpse of her tits.
“Do you remember anything at all, Katie?” Baby asked.
“…. Not… not really.” she admitted.
“Then we don’t really know what happened.” Baby continued, “Let’s not start accusing people before we…”
“He RAPED me!” Katie interrupted, beginning to tear up. “I would *never*… not with… not with… someone like *him*!”
OK, now I was feeling a bit insulted. I decided it was time to end this. I stood up, allowing the blanket to fall to the floor, revealing that I was completely naked.
“Oh, God!” Katie cried, turning her head away from me. She put her hand up to her mouth and sobbed several times, then stood up and walked quickly toward the bathroom.
“I want you to take me AAAACCKKK!”, her demand was cut off mid-sentence as the chain tightened, snapping her head back and abruptly ending her angry march to the john. She twisted as she fell, landing on her right hip, facing away from us.
It took her a few seconds to shake off the pain before she began to lift herself up. As she felt the pull of the collar, she realized for the first time that she was chained.
“What is this!” she screamed, grabbing the collar and trying to pull it off.
Baby suddenly walked away very quickly, grabbed the keys and went down to the basement.
“Katie!” Flower shouted to get her attention, then lowered her voice to a normal volume. “Just settled down, and we’ll explain everything to you.”
“Let me out of this!” Katie screamed. She grabbed the chain with both hands and jerked on it several times, causing the end table to scoot about a foot along the carpet with each pull. The lamp fell to the floor with the first pull, the other small items on the table violently shifted around.
I couldn’t help but think about how sexy she looked. Naked except for her sliced-open shirt, the strips of cloth separating just enough for a tantalizing view of her cleavage, exaggerated by her arms pressing in against her breasts. Her legs were offset, one in front of the other, her dark brown bush mostly visible. The muscles of her inner thighs tightening as she pulled on the chain, struggling against her bonds. I wished I had my camera ready. It could have made for a very artistic photo.
I made a mental note that one thing Flower could do to be useful is shoot photos and video of our training sessions. Wayne had mentioned once that some guys that couldn’t afford and/or safely keep a slave would pay good money to see things like that.
Baby coming back through the basement door snapped my clouded mind back to reality. She was carrying various items we’d need to subdue Katie, who had by now moved the table about half way to the front door.
“Katie!” I yelled, grabbing her chain and yanking. It brought her stumbling toward me, falling to the ground at my feet. She looked up at me, my naked penis hanging about a foot above her. Her face crinkled with fear and turned red as she began to beg.
“Please! Don’t hurt me! PLEEAASSSEE!” she squealed.
“Katie…” I said calmly, “Settle down.”
“Please!” she begged.
“Katie…” I continued, “Do exactly as you are told and this will be easier for you.”
“Please don’t kill me!” she pleaded.
“Put your hands behind your back.” I ordered.
“PLEEEASSSEE! Don’t kill me!” she implored.
“Katie… I promise, we are not going to kill you.”
“Please!”
“I’m not going to kill you!” I said, slightly annoyed, “Now, put your hands behind your back.”
She looked back up at me, her bright red face soaked with tears, bottom lip quivering, and slowly put her hands behind her back. She was clearly terrified.
Baby walked up behind her and bound her hands with handcuffs.
“Katie, listen carefully.” I began, “Calm down. We are not going to kill you. Do you understand me?”
“… Yes.” she replied.
“But I need you to do exactly as you are told.” I continued, “Can you do that for me?”
“… Yes.” she said, sniffing and calming down a bit.
“Get up on your knees.” I directed.
“Oh, God!” she cried, looking up at my cock and shrinking away in fear.
“Katie… You said you’d do as you were told, remember?” I reminded her.
She looked at me, then back at my cock, then at Baby and Flower, then finally, slowly made her way up to her knees.
“Katie, you are correct.” I affirmed, “I did rape you last night.”
She sobbed deeply and closed her eyes tightly, squeezing out even more tears.
“Why am I chained up?” What do you want from me?” she cried.
“Right now, I want you to stand up.” I replied, “Baby, unhook the chain from the table please.”
Katie stood up. I rolled the chain up and turned Katie in place to face the basement door.
“We’re going down to Flower’s room.” I informed her.
“Who… who’s Flower?” she asked.
“That’s me!” Flower said, raising her hand.
“But I thought…” she trailed off.
“It’s Flower now.” she replied.
“This way!” I ordered, lightly pushing her toward the door.
When we got to the basement door and she looked down the stairs, she started crying hysterically and walking backward away from it, bumping in to me.
“Nooo! Please!” Katie begged, “I don’t want to go down there! Pleeeasssseee!”
I jerked the chain on her collar, straightening her back up.
“Katie, I promised you that we would not kill you, and I meant it.” I assured, “This is Flower’s bedroom.”
Katie calmed down a bit, looked down the stairs again and took her first, cautious step down the stairs.
We made our way down, me prodding her in the back as she took each step very slowly and cautiously. She seemed to be afraid of basements, or maybe she is claustrophobic.
Or maybe she just senses the truth; that she is walking in to a dungeon.
We finally arrived at the bottom of the stairs and Katie seemed to relax a bit, seeing that it did indeed look like a bedroom. Baby and Flower were right behind us.
I steered Katie to the far side of the room, then turned her around to face the door that led back upstairs.
“Stand here.” I ordered, “Do not move.”
“I… I have to pee.” Katie said.
“Baby!” I sighed, handing her Katie’s chain, “Take her to pee.”
I waited patiently until Baby led Katie back out of the restroom.
“Stand here.” I ordered again, pointing to a spot on the ground, “Do not move.”
I grabbed her chain, stood up on the step stool, and ran it up through a ring in the ceiling.
“What… why are you…” she trailed off, beginning to sob again.
I pulled the chain snug. I left her enough slack to stand flat-footed, by very little extra. She couldn’t move more than about a foot in any direction without chocking herself.
“Please!” she begged, “I don’t want to… please! Let me go!”
“Baby, gag her.” I ordered.
“No! No! Please, I’ll be quiet!” she pleaded as Baby slipped the ball gag over her mouth.
I headed to the restroom to piss, then walked in to the punishment room.
As I entered the punishment room, Catherine spun her head around to look at me.
“Listen… um,” she began, “I’m sorry, I actually can’t remember what you said your name was.”
“You may call me ‘Master’.” I replied.
O… K! ‘Master’…” she said, sarcastically. I cannot imagine how Kevin put up with her for so long.
“Anyway, listen,” she continued, “I see what’s going on here.”
“Oh? What *is* going on here?” I asked, sarcastically.
“I heard that scared girl crying out there.” she informed me.
“And?”
“And, I want in.”
“In?”
“Yes.”
I said nothing.
“I can help you.”
“I don’t need any more help.”
“I know a lot of girls…”
“I don’t need any more help.”
She paused for a few moments of thought as I put a collar around her neck.
“Did Kevin ever mention how we met?”
“No.”
“It figures.”
“It does?”
“Yes…”
“And why is that?”
“Because… I was an escort.”
“I… well… that would explain a lot.” I replied, then started regretting having her stick her tongue up my ass.
“Right. The sex was good before we married because he paid me for it. The dumb fucker fell in love with me and wanted to ‘save me’ from my profession.”
Apparently, her high-class veneer was peeling away, the curse words effortlessly rolling off her tongue.
“So, you were a cheap hooker that got lucky.”
“I was *NOT* a cheap hooker!” she snapped. I apparently hit a nerve.
“I was a high-class escort, with high-class clients. They paid me $1,000 a night!”
“Ah, so you were an expensive hooker that got lucky.”
“Fuck you.” she said calmly.
“Sorry, I can’t afford you.” I quipped, “And I’d like to remain disease free.”
“Go to hell, asshole.” she cursed, “I never fucked any of these guys without a condom. I’m cleaner than you are.”
I have to say that I was relieved to hear that, but I didn’t respond.
“So, listen,” she continued, her repeated use of the word ‘listen’ grating on my nerves, “I know a lot of girls. Many of them would not be missed. I’m talking about clean, high-class girls.”
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