STACI DAVIS: INVESTIGATIVE SLAVE
by Zebulon
This is a work of fiction. No reference to real persons is
intended. It contains strong, non-traditional sexual imagery
and language. If you don't like this kind of thing, don't read it.
This may be reposted anywhere as long as (1) proper
credit is given, (2) I am informed of where it is being posted,
and (3) I am allowed free access to the web site where it is
being posted.
Feedback is welcome. Zebulon@fastmail.ca
(MF, FF, Bond)
* * * * * Start of Part 6 * * * * *
After Deborah disappeared into the mansion, everything
seemed to develop exactly as Staci expected. The mousy
blond hooked her leash to the D-Ring on the front of her
collar. She led the around the side of the house to the
servant's entrance. The foremost concern in Staci's mind
was to remember everything she saw and heard for the she and Ms. Turner were going to write.
There were people getting out of another car as they
moved away. One of them was a beautiful naked Hispanic
girl wearing nothing but high heels and a collar. Her hands
were bound behind her back. Another staff slave was
hooking a leash to her. As they rounded the side of the
house, Staci saw still another staff slave holding two leashes
which were attached to a pair of twins. They were also
naked and had their hands bound behind their backs. Staci
suddenly felt conspicuous in her dress.
Once inside she was led down a long hallway. There
were sounds of busily moving bodies and women's voices
coming from the doors they passed. They came to a small,
empty room at the end of the hallway. There was a nearly
naked waiting. He too was attired as a staff
slave, wearing only collar, sandals, and the belt and shoulder
strap arrangement. He was about six feet tall and was very
powerful looking. His dick was large. The mousy unhooked the leash and left.
The cocked his head to examine Staci and then said
in a voice of quiet command, "Strip."
She did. She hadn't worn underclothing, so all she had
to do was unzip her gown and step out of it. She stood,
gown in hand, and looked at the man. He pointed to a box
in the corner. She dropped the gown into the box. She
turned back to him. He said nothing. She waited
expectantly. He pointed to her heels. She stepped out of
them and set them in the box as well. She turned back
again. This time he came up to her. "Turn," he said. She
turned away. He took her hands and cuffed them behind
her back.
He picked up a clipboard and asked her name.
"Alice Summers."
He noted the name and said, "Owner?"
"Mistress Rachel Trask."
"Trainer?"
"Sir?"
"Who was your trainer? Did Mistress Rachel train you?"
"Yes."
He measured and recorded her exact height. He had her
stand on a scale and recorded her weight. He pulled out a
tape measure, went over her body, and recorded figures.
He studied her from a number of angles and made some
other notes.
"Open your mouth."
He looked in and scribbled on the paper.
"Bend over."
He examined her ass. He reached between her legs and
did something to her clit. She felt a flash of sexual head and
her was suddenly wet. Staci gulped air and trembled.
He stuck a finger in her and covered it with the slick
lubrication. Then withdrew the finger and reinserted it in
her ass. Staci felt humiliated and was sure she was flushing.
And yet, there was something so impersonal about the
examination that it made it easier to take. The finger came
out. She heard the sound of pen on paper.
"Stand."
The finished with the clipboard and pushed a button
on the wall.
Moments later the door opened and the tall, strong
woman from the airport walked in. She was carrying a slim
folder. She took the clipboard and reviewed the notes.
Staci saw a couple of walk past the open door. The
first was leading the other whose hands were bound behind
her. She picked up the pencil and made some corrections,
scratching certain lines out and inserting other answers.
Staci couldn't see what she was writing. "Recopy that. Add
the contents of this folder. I'll send someone back to pick it
up."
"Yes, Number Two."
"Where's her leash?"
The black looked a little concerned and pointed at
the door.
"Of course," she said.
She hooked her finger through the D-Ring in Staci's
collar and led her out into the hall. Another set of were coming up directly behind them. There was something
disquieting to Staci about the fact that the woman leading
her was dressed and everyone else that she had seen in the
hallway was naked. It was something else which set her
apart.
They entered what looked like a huge tiled game room
with all of the furniture removed. There were hooks set at
regular intervals all around the wall. The hooks had large
numbers pasted above them. The last number was 53.
About a two-thirds of the hooks had leashes hung over
them to which the slaves were attached. They all had their
wrists bound behind them and were gagged. Most of them
were watching the activity in the center of the room. New
girls were being processed. A note card was being prepared
for each. Sometimes quiet questions would be asked by the
girls filling out the cards and quiet answers would be given.
Then the new were gagged, assigned a number, and
lead over to take their places with the others. From
somewhere down another hall came the muffled sounds of
kitchen activity.
Everything was being directed by Mistress Ruby, a
intense woman of middle height. She was in her late
fifties, and knew her business well. She managed virtually
all Mart auctions. She oversaw a stable of slaves who ran
these events. The woman was dressed in a very distinctive
collection of leather straps and chains. Standing near her
was a much younger, slightly shorter woman with platinum
blond hair, Mistress Rayna. She was dressed identically and
was second in command. She would take over when the
older woman retired.
The woman in black led Staci to the two of them and
released her. "Where's her bio sheet?" the woman
asked. "Coming," said the woman in black. "Philip's
finishing it up now." The woman nodded.
The younger woman led Staci to one of the assistants
who had just finished processing a slave. She said, "Check
her cuffs, gag her, and get her a proper leash." She pointed
to a hook which stood by itself in the corner. "Put her there
and then go pick up her paperwork from Philip in six."
Staci was becoming progressively more uneasy as her
treatment deviated more and more from the rest of the
slaves. She was hoping that it all was just a simple problem
with her paperwork, but it didn't feel right. Her cuffs were
tightened. She had a very uncomfortable gag shoved into
her mouth and strapped around her head. She got a new
leash and was left on the hook in the corner. The assistant
disappeared.
For awhile Staci was forgotten and watched the bustle of
activity in the room. By this time the room was three-
quarters filled. While there was a fair assortment of races
and colors, most of the were white Caucasian. That
was what was popular in the market at the moment. There
were some Orientals, Hispanics, and Blacks. There were
also two who looked like they came from India, one
very attractive who looked almost Eskimo, and a few
young men. One of the had pierced nipples and
a large silver ring set in the skin at the base of his dick.
Most of the slaves looked calm and resigned. Some looked
eager. A very few looked scared, including the with the
rings. Staci realized that she must be looking rather scared
herself and did the best she could to calm herself.
The assistant returned a couple of minutes later leading a
slave. She was carrying two clipboards. Staci watched
intently. She brought one over to Mistress Ruby. Then she
took the slave and the other to the center of the room and
returned to her duties.
Mistress Ruby called her platinum apprentice over
and handed her the clipboard. They talked briefly. The
older woman went back to what she was doing and Mistress
Rayna came walking toward Staci. There was something in
her manner, in her expression. Something which sent a cold
chill running down Staci's spine.
* * * * *
Mistress Rayna stood in front of Staci for some time,
looking her over and checking the notes. She squeezed one
of Staci's breasts. Staci tried to act indifferent, but her
nervousness was obvious.
Mistress Rayna rubbed a nipple and watched it swell.
She leaned over and on Staci's in a way which
sent queer sensations radiating through her body. Staci was
leaning away from the woman, trying to make as small a
target as possible. "Spread your legs, bitch." Staci spread
her legs. The woman crouched down and made a slow
careful inspection of her pussy. By the time she was
finished poking and rubbing, Staci was terribly aroused and
even more afraid. The woman got down on one knee and
covered the upper slit with her mouth. Staci froze. The
woman began licking the clit, feeling it swell beneath her
tongue. Staci moaned into her gag and tried to keep as still
as she could.
Eventually the woman seemed satisfied. Staci, was hot
and flushed. She looked around the room and noticed that
most of the auction slaves and a couple of the staff slaves
were watching her. Mistress Rayna removed her gag. She
glanced at the clipboard and said, "Let's talk, Staci."
At the sound of her real name, Staci's legs threatened to
fold under her. "You're interested in broadcasting, yes?"
Staci didn't answer.
The woman shot out a quick hand and pinched a few of
Staci's long orange pubic hair. Staci jerked back and so did
the hand. The hair were yanked out by the roots. Staci
yowled. There were some laughs from the center of the
room. The woman shouted back over her shoulder, "Shut
up and work." The laughter stopped.
"Now where were we? Oh yes. You're interested in
broadcasting, aren't you?"
Staci quickly nodded her head and tried to say yes
through her blubbering.
"Stop crying. Right now."
Staci sniffed and did her best to cut off the tears. It
seemed to satisfy her interrogator.
"You were recruited by Deborah Turner to infiltrate our
operations, yes?"
"Y . . . yes."
"Why did you decide to accept?"
"I . . . I thought it would . . . it would be a g . . . good
way to start my career."
"You think getting sold into sexual slavery is a good
career move?"
Staci teared up completely. She tried to speak but
nothing came out. Two staff slaves walked up--a muscular
Scandinavian male and a curvy who might have
come from anywhere. They were both quite tall.
"Jos," Mistress Rayna said, addressing the male, "put this
bitch on ice until we're ready for her. Strap her into a and leave . . . No, wait a second." She took a hard look at
Staci and thought about how she wanted her presented at
the auction.
Staci started whimpering. Mistress Rayna slapped her
hard across a tit. "Shut the fuck up!"
With difficulty, Staci shut.
"Strap her into the frame instead."
"The frame will have to be set up, Mistress Rayna," said
Jos.
"We've got time," she looked back at the clipboard, "she
won't be needed until at least an hour into the show."
"Do you want us to set her up here, Mistress Rayna?"
asked the brunette.
"That would be fun." She turned to Staci and grasped
one of her nipples. "I'll bet you'd like that." She pinched
the nipple with considerable force and jerked Staci's back and forth as she spoke. Staci tried not to cry out and
make things worse, but was only partly successful. "I'll just
bet you'd like to be hung up for everyone to look at,
wouldn't you, you exhibitionistic little slut."
Staci didn't answer. She just cowered and blubbered.
Mistress Rayna pinched harder and shook the more violently, "Wouldn't you!"
Staci didn't know if she was supposed to say yes or no,
but she needed to say something quick, "No."
"No, what?"
"No, I don't want . . ."
Her answer was cut off when the sadistic women
reached up with the other hand and pinched her other
nipple. She began wringing both tits.
"You don't know jack shit, do you?"
"No!"
"No, what?" Mistress Rayna shot the an evil
smirk and winked.
Staci was screeching with pain and shock and had no
idea what to say to make it stop. What did this terrible
woman want?
The reached up and grabbed a fistful of Staci's
hair. She firmly covered her mouth with the other hand.
She said something in her ear. But Staci found it difficult to
understand over the pain and the sound of her own muffled
cries.
Mistress Rayna shook her again. "No, what?"
The repeated her instructions and took her
hands away.
Staci shouted, "No, Mistress Rayna!"
The woman turned her loose. "Much better." Then she
turned to look back into the room and noticed how much
attention was being directed their way. "Back to work,
Goddammit!" she shouted.
Staci was cringing and whimpering. This felt like the
end of the world.
"You know," Mistress Rayna said, half to herself, "as
much fun as it would be to humiliate this bitch, we still have
a show to put on. And she's too damn distracting. We've
got a butt-load of work to do if we're going to make the
backroom showing on time and Mistress Synklair will be
here any minute." She tapped her leg with the clipboard.
"Take her to the rumpus room next door. I'll have Philip
and Christina set up the frame for you."
Then she had another thought. Well-trained slaves
would only take pleasure at their Mistress' bidding. Her
slaves had been working their tails off for weeks and hadn't
had much recreation time.
"How long has it been since you've gotten laid, Jos?"
"About five weeks, Mistress."
"And you, Belle?"
"Almost two months, Mistress."
'That's terrible,' she thought to herself. She would really
have to talk to Ruby about thinking a little less about work
and a little more about play. But in the mean time. "There's
a 20 in the next room, isn't there?"
"Yes, Mistress," said Jos. "Master Krychek was using it
this morning."
"Well, take our friend here and strap her into it. You
can each have a go at her." She looked around the room.
"Then let anyone else who wants some, have a piece." She
turned to Belle. "You just make sure she doesn't get too
badly banged up before the auction. And keep things
moving, OK?"
"Yes, Mistress." There was a lustful look in Belle and
Jos's eyes which terrified Staci. But she was afraid if she
said anything, the horrible woman would her again.
"And be careful," Mistress Rayna added. "She's
completely untrained, so don't take any chances."
"Yes, Mistress," Jos and Belle answered as one.
* * * * * End of Part 6 * * * * *
STACI DAVIS: INVESTIGATIVE SLAVE
by Zebulon
This may be reposted anywhere as long as (1) proper
credit is given, (2) I am informed of where it is being posted,
and (3) I am allowed free access to the web site where it is
being posted.
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