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 10 * * * * *
The woman didn't bother to cuff Staci's hands. She just
put a choke chain leash around her neck and led her out like
a dog. Staci had only been out of her prison once since her
arrival, the day she had been examined by the doctor and the
dentist. She hadn't been taken very far from the holding
cells. This time she was walked completely out of the
compound, through a little park-like area, and to a large
chateau. It was late spring or early summer and the weather
was comfortable. It would be dark soon and much colder.
The woman led Staci down a flight of stairs to an
underground door. They threaded their way through a
complex maze of halls to a windowless room dominated by
a huge sunken tub. The tub was filled with steaming, soapy
water and two naked girls. They were waiting for her.
The woman removed the leash, ordered her in, and left.
Staci was quickly and meticulously cleaned. The rushed her out of the tub, gave her a manicure, a pedicure, a
careful mouth cleansing, and two enemas. They rushed her
back into the tub. After more scrubbing and special
attention to her hair she was rinsed and dried. The spent a long time fooling with her hair. They put some very
slight make-up on her, which didn't seem much like make-up
-- a colored juice of some kind for her lips. A different color
for her cheeks. Still another color on her nipples, areolas,
and vaginal lips. There was a light shadow for her eyes.
When she finally saw herself in the mirror she looked
fabulous. She would have never guessed from the reflection
that she had just finished spending half a year in a little cell.
Except for the subtle difference in coloration she couldn't
tell that she was wearing make-up at all.
When the were satisfied with their work they put a
diamond studded collar around her neck, affixed a gold
plated chain with a velvet handle to her collar, and rang for
their Mistress. They left her standing in the hallway, her
leash attached to a hook by the door.
It was an hour before the evil looking woman returned
to collect her. She didn't even bother to inspect her slaves'
work. She led Staci upstairs and through a spacious and
opulent lounge area. It was getting late and there were only
a few slaves, servants, and staff members about. Staci felt
self conscious, but no one seemed to pay much attention to
her. Naked slaves must be common around the chateau.
She was lead up two more flights of stairs and down a
thickly carpeted hall. The walls were of a dark polished
wood. They stopped before one of the doors.
The evil woman reached up and grabbed Staci by her
chin. She pulled her face down a little and, looking directly
into her eyes, said, "You will be sure to satisfy him, yes?"
"Yes, Mistress," said Staci with some difficulty, as the
woman hadn't turned loose of her jaw.
The woman rapped softly, but distinctly, on the door.
A muffled voice said something that probably meant
'come in.'
The woman unhooked the leash, opened the door, and
pushed Staci through. The room was large, richly adorned,
and quite eloquent. The door closed behind her. She didn't
see Mr. Duval anywhere. There was an open briefcase on
the bed stand, which attracted Staci's attention. She took a
few timid steps closer. The case contained some papers, a
few odd stationery items, several wicked looking knives,
some surgical instruments, and a gun. And the briefcase
was open. And it was next to the bed. Staci started to
tremble.
A snapping sound made her almost jump out of her skin.
She turned quickly and saw Mr. Duval standing in the
bathroom door. He had snapped his fingers at her. He was
wearing a light robe. Something gleamed in his other hand.
It was a small pair of scissors.
'Maybe that's what came out of the briefcase,' Staci
thought. 'Maybe he'd just been trimming his nails.' She
relaxed a tiny bit.
Mr. Duval was watching her intently with a neutral
expression. He made a peculiar circular motion with his
free hand. He wanted her to turn around. She did so
slowly so that he could get a good look at her. When she
completed the circle, he walked over to the briefcase and
dropped the scissors. Staci breathed a big sigh of relief.
Then she caught her breath as he reached in and pulled out a
long silver handle with a small malevolent-looking blade on
the end. He walked up to Staci. She was sure she was
going to die.
Holding the blade in his left hand, he reached up with his
right and caressed Staci's face. She closed her eyes and
prayed. His hand traveled down her neck just like earlier
that afternoon and came to rest on her breast. He heart was
beating wildly. She felt the cold metal of the blade on her
cheek. Her eyes flew open.
Mr. Duval's expression hadn't changed. His fingers
gently kneading her nipple and breast. The other hand held
the side of the blade against her cheek and slid it ever so
lightly and carefully down across her chin and up the other
cheek. Staci was sure it didn't even leave a scratch.
Suddenly, Staci was aware that she was completely wet.
Mr. Duval was her dream lover and the big bad boss rolled
into one. He was kind and gentle, and brutal and
dangerous. He attracted her as no other ever had and
scared the hell out of her at the same time.
He whispered something she couldn't understand. She
tried to answer but she could only get her lip to flutter. He
moved a little closer and let the hand at her slide
down her belly and busy itself with her pussy. She could
feel the fingers squish and slide easily through her damp
throbbing flesh.
His other hand, the one with the knife, came away from
her eye, around her face, around the back of her head, and
reappeared where it had been before. She could see the
blade just an inch away from her eye. He had wrapped his
arm behind her head and pulled her face toward his. His
mouth came toward hers. She kissed him. It was a kiss like
she'd never experienced before. She wanted to close her
eyes, but couldn't. She was fixated on the blade. The
fingers at her crotch in constant motion, sliding up and
down against her clit. Between the kiss and the knife and
the stimulation between her legs, she came.
She hadn't had an orgasm since the auction. She hadn't
been able to bring herself to with the cameras
watching. And the combined terror and sexual rush had
quickly driven her over the edge.
Mr. Duval was a little surprised and a little pleased. 'So,'
he thought, 'you like the threat, the danger. That's why you
were so fascinated with my satchel.' He brought his hand
back around and held blade up before her eyes. She froze.
He slowly brought it down past her chin and up against her
diamond collar. Using the point, he picked the latch on the
collar, which fell off and landed at her feet. Staci breathed a
sigh of relief. The knife was just a turn on. He never
intended to use it on her. He must just get off on knives.
Mr. Duval stepped away and set the blade down on the
bed stand. 'Now it's my turn,' he thought. 'But how to turn
your passion into mine?' He considered for a few moments
and then got an idea.
Staci hadn't moved. He disappeared back into the
bathroom and emerged a minute later with the vinyl shower
curtain liner. He laid it on the floor. He moved a large
wooden chair to its center. Staci wondered if he expected
the floor to get wet. He took the belt from his robe and tied
her hands together in front of her body. He removed the
robe and tossed it on the bed.
Mr. Duval then walked over to the chair and sat.
Motioning her over he pointed at his erect penis. She
wasn't sure what he wanted. He grabbed her by the bound
arms and pulled her down to her knees in front of him. He
touched his finger to her lips and again pointed at his dick.
Even before the experience with Phillip at the auction, this
had not been her favorite thing. She had accommodated a
boyfriend a few times, but had never enjoyed it.
Staci repositioned herself and started licking and
sucking. Her hands were hanging limply between her legs.
She was trying her best, but knew she wasn't doing a very
good job. Then she felt cold metal against her throat.
Where the hell had he gotten another knife? She stopped
sucking for a moment. Mr. Duval grasped her by the hair
and pulled a large evil knife out from under her neck. He
held it inches from her eyes. She realized what the vinyl
liner was for. 'Oh my God, she thought, he's going to kill
me after all.' He said something in a commanding voice,
returned the knife to her throat and pressed the back of her
head with his free hand. She quickly went back to and licking. But this time she was inspired. Her mind flew
into overdrive. She tried to remember everything that she
had ever heard about fellatio. She tried to remember
everything that had happened to her during the assaults at
the auction. What had felt good?
She brought her bound hands up and began stroking his
balls. She stopped the simple and let her tongue
slide up and down the entire length of his shaft.
Staci heard Mr. Duval moan and felt the pressure of the
blade slacken against her skin. She took his penis back into
her mouth and a little harder. She used her fingers
to scratch the inside of his thighs and his testicles. She
brought one hand around and used a finger to tickle his
anus. He seemed to like that. She inserted her finger a little
way and then brought it out. Too much friction. She
quickly brought her hand back and used her mouth to
slather the finger with saliva. She went back to licking his
dick and tried the finger up his ass again. It slipped in more
easily.
Her actions seemed to be working. The knife was still
there, but didn't seem nearly as threatening. She could feel
him start to get close to an orgasm. His testicles seemed to
be rising and tightening. His dick was warmer and more
tense.
Staci used her mouth to completely cover the head and
licked her tongue around and over the smooth surface. The
shaft of his cock was completely covered with her saliva.
She brought her hands around and used one to wrap around
his shaft and pump it as she held his balls with the other.
She kept this up until the skin on the shaft started to dry.
Then she let it go and used her entire mouth to half his organ and give it a fresh coat of lubrication. A few wet
sloppy pumps and she went back to and licking the
head while she pumped the shaft. On the fifth pump Mr.
Duval came. It was like a slow motion explosion. He shot
a quick load against the roof of Staci's mouth and then
erupted like a pulsating volcano. Staci remembered her
lesson from the auction and was careful to it all and
keep up the stimulation as the prolonged played
itself out.
Staci was congratulating herself on a job well done when
the knife pressed up again. She let go his member and
raised her head. Mr. Duval stood and taking Staci by her
bound hands, pulled her over to the bed. He had her lay
down and pointed to her pussy.
"What do you want," she asked. He answered by
snapping his fingers and pointing again. Staci still didn't
know what he wanted. He pushed her bound hands against
her crotch. "You want me to beat off?" she started
masturbating and watched his reaction. That was what he
wanted. So she closed her eyes and fondled herself. If he
wanted to watch her come that was all right with her.
Despite the danger, or perhaps because of it, she was
incredibly turned on. The earlier orgasm had been like a
small prelude to the sexual intensity she was now feeling.
As she let her fingers work around her clit and she
could hear Mr. Duval making small noises around her. He
was tying something to the bedpost over her head. She was
getting closer. And when she was very, very close she felt
him pull her hands up and away from her crotch. He
quickly fastened them to the bed post. Then he hopped on
top of her. She spread her legs without being asked.
She could feel his long lithe body lying across hers. His
smooth chest rubbed against her engorged hungry nipples
and breasts. She felt his breath on her face. She kissed him,
again without being asked. He used the head of his penis to
prod her clit, and then sink a little way into her vagina. He
kissed her more deeply, withdrew his cock and again rubbed
it lovingly against her clit. He slid back down and into her.
He kissed her ear, used his cock to tease her clit again and
then went back to her cunt. He kept this up, kissing her
whole face, always coming back to lips, as he used his prick
to tease and stimulate her pussy. And then she was on the
edge again.
Sensing this he stopped the teasing and plunged deeply
into her. Within a very few thrusts the orgasm erupted over
her and she was gasping and thrashing under him. He thrust
with a mad fury, magnifying and prolonging her orgasm.
She ground her teeth as the intensity reached an almost
painful threshold.
He came with a loud grunt. She could feel his
contractions against the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs.
He sunk his fingers into her sides, just below the and
covered her mouth with his. She kissed him back as their
contractions tapered out and away.
For a long while they just lay there. She with her arms
bound over her head; he with his hands on the sides of her
breasts. His head was resting on her shoulder. She found
herself staring blankly at the ornate carvings on the ceiling.
Eventually he got up and untied her. He pointed around
the round and gestured to make her understand she was to
straighten up. She did. He pointed first at the chair and she
moved it back to the corner. He collected the vinyl shower
curtain and his robe and disappeared into the bathroom.
She heard the shower running. Staci remade the bed and
returned the rope and knives to the bed stand. She put the
diamond collar back on. Then she stood waiting. She didn't
know what else to do.
When he emerged from the bathroom Mr. Duval was
clean and fresh. He came up to her. He looked thoughtful
for a moment and then pointed at the bathroom and said
something. 'Did she wish to shower?' She hoped that's
what he meant. She nodded enthusiastically. He waived his
arm. 'Go ahead.' She ran in and luxuriated in her first hot
shower in what seemed forever. She didn't count the
business with the hot tub. That was hardly fun. This was.
'Be sure to please him,' the Dom had said. She obviously
had.
When she emerged a short time later she found him
sitting at a table drinking wine and writing something. She
waited until he looked up. He stood up and came to her,
favoring her with a long slow kiss. Then he picked up his
wine glass and offered it to her. She took a sip. It was
nice. She handed it back. He kissed her once on the
forehead and walked her to the door. He pointed at the
floor in the hall and she sat. Without a backward glance he
closed the door. She heard his footsteps pad away. She felt
like a tray of used dishes in a hotel. A few minutes later a
guard in a khaki uniform came, removed the diamond collar,
and led her back to her cage.
* * * * *
It had been just over half a year since the Guadeloupe
auction. The lack of a clean resolution was a constant
source of annoyance to Number One. And now he was
getting mildly disturbing reports that suggested there
might be more trouble. He discussed the problem with
Number Two.
"What do you make of this Deborah Turner business?"
he asked.
"It might be nothing, it might be serious. I've got a
number of agents on full alert keeping track of things. So
far all we really know is that someone at her station has
developed an interest in white slavery and is doing some
computer searches for material. Whoever it is might not
have any connection to Turner at all."
"And then again--" he said.
"And then again--" she agreed. "Three has an idea about
how to get a definitive answer and I have a few ideas about
setting up an extra insurance policy with respect to the
situation."
"An insurance policy?" Number One asked.
"Let me make a few calls first. If the idea makes sense
I'll tell you about it."
* * * * * End of Part 10 * * * * *
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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