CHAPTER ONE:
A JOB OFFER
David became aware that the telephone was ringing.
Through sleep-glazed eyes he looked at the clock by his bed. Nine thirty in the
morning: quite a respectable time for a caller, but it had been a late night last night.
He reached for the telephone receiver and mumbled into it.
The voice on the other end was crisp and clear. “Good morning, David. This is
Charles.”
Charles, Charles. David sifted through the list in his drowsy mind of names of people
he knew. Then he placed both the name and the voice. Instantly he became much more
interested and firmly pushed back the frontiers of sleep. Visions of beautiful, naked
ladies swam in front of his eyes. They were not dreams, but memories associated with this
man. Wonderful memories.
“Charles, yes, sorry, how are you?”
“Fine, thank you. Did I wake you up?”
“No problem. What can I do for you?”
“It’s more a matter of what I can do for you. My son Ralph is off to university next
month. Some time ago you said that you’d love to live and work here. If you’re still
interested, there’s a job on offer.”
David sat bolt upright in his bed. Interested? He would have killed to get this job!
“Of course,” the older man continued, “as I said to you before, there’s no salary
involved, although board and lodgings are free. But the fringe benefits may make up for
that.”
The visions floated in front of David’s eyes again. “They certainly will,” he said
without reserve. “When can I start?”
Dates were fixed and the call ended. David lay back in his bed, feeling in seventh
heaven. The “fringe benefits” in that job would make up for almost anything, because the
job was looking after a group of helpless young female slaves!
David Chatham was 27 years old. He was an ordinary man in a mundane job, although his
so-so income was bolstered by a drip feed from a trust fund set up for him by a wealthy
aunt. He was unmarried and currently unattached, not from a lack of interest on his part,
but because he was rather selfish by nature, lacking in conversation, dress sense and
flair and far from good looking.
His uncle, now deceased, had introduced him to Charles some five years earlier and had
taken him on his first visit to the Manor. The place was quite unbelievable. In effect
it was a high security prison and the prisoners were a group of lovely young girls and
ladies who were kept as slaves. It was incredible that such a place could exist, totally
illegally and so secret, but it did. Every whim of visitors such as David and his uncle
could be satisfied at the expense of these poor creatures. David had indulged himself,
losing his virginity and had a wonderful time. Sadly, his uncle and aunt both died in a
fire a year later, but he was still able to visit the Manor whenever he could scrape
together the expensive fee, which was helped by his aunt’s fund.
The fund and certain other facts had left an intriguing thought in his head. He knew
the slaves were freed at the age of thirty, provided they kept their mouths shut, and were
provided with a large proportion of the money their forced activities had earned. Now, it
was his aunt, not his uncle, who had the money, and as far as anybody in their family knew
(it was his uncle who was the blood relation) she had no known family or background.
Although she was quite old when she died, she could well have been attractive once. Had
she been a slave at the Manor, many years ago? David knew the place had been going for
generations. Perhaps that was even where his uncle had met her.
And now, for three years whilst Charles’ son was away at university, David was going to
be able to live at the Manor, indulging himself every day. It was a dream come true. He
resigned from his job and made arrangements to terminate the lease on his flat. Apart
from women, his needs were simple, and he could live off the trust fund allowance easily
if he didn’t have to pay for food and accommodation. Meanwhile, he was going to have the
time of his life.
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