Gabriel Locke rolled his neck to get the kinks out as he strolled down the hall toward
his suite. He'd fallen asleep on the short ride back to the hotel. He smiled as he
remembered why he was so exhausted. Staying up all night with his band mates wasn't
good for performances, but the reason they'd been up all night was worth the
occasional lackluster performance.
He smoothed his shoulder length brown hair away from his face as if brushing away the
familiar tingle of wanting. It wasn't a matter of not getting what he wanted. He
could do that easily enough. It was the fact that what he wanted simply wasn't with
him at that particular moment, but he knew it was just a matter of time until it would
be.
Gabriel had grown up an only child in the small town of Big Springs, Ohio. He'd
known from early on his parents hadn't wanted him. As long as he could remember, his
father would beat him. His mother didn't care, or at least did nothing to stop it,
but it did stop eventually one night when Gabriel was fourteen. He'd stood up to his
father and told him not to lay another hand on him. Of course, his father didn't
listen and ended up in the hospital. Gabriel was taken to jail, but as soon as he told his
side of the story his parents were hauled off for child abuse. He'd spent the next
four years in a foster home in Dayton where he met Jason, with whom he became fast
friends.
Once they were eighteen, they left the foster home and started their own lives.
Gabriel had always wanted to be a singer and soon formed the band that eventually became
Warranty Unlimited. They traveled around the Midwest playing gigs in bars, hoping for
that one big break. He knew they were good, and it was only a matter of time for a big
record label to discover a band that was making so much noise in the Midwest.
That big break still eluded him but the perks were amazing nonetheless. Women threw
themselves at him – or at least articles of clothing. He had an amazing collection of
bras and panties. By no means did he figure himself to be sexy. He stood only five foot
eleven, not short, but certainly not tall either, and had a slender, not overly muscular
frame. He could hold his own if he ever got into a fight.
Gabriel slid his key card into the slot and opened the door. He shut the door and
turned only to come face to face with the barrel of a .45 pointed directly between his
eyes. He stopped dead in his tracks and raised his arms.
"Easy, Jason, it's just me," he said.
The gun was lowered and his good buddy, Jason, grinned at him. "Sorry, Gabe.
Thought it might be one of your groupies," he commented as he stuffed the gun in the
waistband of his jeans.
"You should know me by now. I only have one at a time."
Jason nodded. "Which is why you called me here. To get rid of this one?" He
jerked his head toward the other room.
Gabriel smiled. "You know it. Think you can do it?"
"Now, what do you think?" quipped Jason as they strolled into the main room
of the suite.
They stood at the doorway and gazed on the woman in the middle of the room. Her arms
were bound with white rope at her elbows, forearms and wrists and pointed almost straight
up in the air as another rope attached to her wrists drew them toward the ceiling. The
severe strappado forced her to bend at the waist, sending her long auburn locks cascading
toward the floor, and allowing gravity to emphasize her already large bosom.
A spreader bar ensured her legs would be kept wide apart as she half-dangled
precariously, with only the balls of her ankle boot-clad feet in contact with the floor.
A huge ball-gag was strapped in her mouth with several layers of tape sealing it deep
within to ensure her complete silence – not that she could be heard with the TV blaring.
She still wore all her clothing, although it was now rumpled and disheveled. Her peach
tank top, which barely contained her breasts to begin with, was stained with sweat as she
struggled for each breath, and her white leather miniskirt had crept even further than
normal up her thighs, permitting easy viewing of her soaked pink satin panties.
Jason shook his head. "Nicely done, Gabe. I guess the lessons I gave you paid
off."
"And the women I find for you are exceptional, are they not?" Gabriel turned
casually from the spectacle of female suffering and went over to the fridge to get a
bottle of beer. He opened it and walked back to the woman. He took a long swig before
dribbling some of the cold alcohol on the intricate tattoo gracing the woman's
exposed lower back. She squealed as he leaned down and licked it off.
"They always are," Jason conceded. "What's her name?"
Gabriel shrugged. "Lisa... Liza... Hell if I remember. I just call her
groupie."
The woman moaned when Gabriel licked her again, but wiggled her ass and whined when he
moved away from her.
Jason stepped forward to examine her. He ran his hands over her body, pinching and
squeezing every so often. When his fingers probed the moist folds of her cunt beneath her
panties, he chuckled at the deep, hungry moans his touch elicited from her.
"Very nice," he remarked. "She responds well to the strenuous bondage.
I think I'll catch a hefty sum for her at the auction."
"I guess she actually digs it," Gabriel sighed.
Jason arched an eyebrow and regarded his friend. "And that's a problem?
Probably likes being the center of attention, too. Don't ya, bitch?"
The woman groaned and shifted her position as if she was trying to find the hands
again, that might grant her some pleasure.
Gabriel sighed and smacked her ass. "It's... tiresome. I mean... the women.
They're all the same. Just because I'm a singer in a band they bend over
backward to please me. Or forward," he laughed, eyeing the doubled over girl.
Serious again, he continued, "Don't get me wrong, man. I know it's been
very lucrative for both of us, but...."
Jason smiled knowingly and nodded. "You want a challenge."
"No. Well, yeah. Maybe. I don't know."
"You're not dropping out of our partnership, are you?"
Gabriel shook his head. "No. Hell, no! I'll still find you the occasional
girl, but..." his voice trailed off again and he shrugged.
"She must be quite the bitch," Jason commented.
"What? Who? I never said–"
"You don't have to, my friend. It's written all over your face.
Believe me. I've been there. Preston has, too. Hell, he has two girls. Which,
don't tell Cathy this, but wow! Preston has all the luck. A spunky redhead who now
helps him with the training plus that blonde, Sharae."
"Don't tell Cathy that you're drooling over a fellow slaver's
girls? Please. I don't want to come under her wrath. Anyway, Cathy's a babe
herself. That long dark hair and those chocolate eyes..."
Jason scowled at him. "Keep your eyes off my girl."
Gabriel returned his glare with one of his own. "Don't you think Preston
would say the same?"
The two men stared at each other for a minute before they both chuckled and relaxed.
"To be honest, if anyone ever looked at Angel and Sharae the wrong way Preston would
make minced meat out of them."
Gabriel laughed. "I'm glad I'm not a slaver."
"But in a way you are. Kind of a contractor. Now, just be quiet.
Everything's cool. Nobody knows I have you on my payroll." Jason laughed, but
Gabriel knew the threat underlying his words.
Gabriel grinned and gazed into space. "She's a babe, Jason. Tall, lean –
but not too lean. Curvy," he sighed. "And I heard the last part of the
conversation she was having with her friend. Something about not letting a guy have
control over her, then she mouthed off, tried to be cute, right to my face. It kind of
ticked me off, but, god, was she hot. Being under a guy's control is exactly what a
girl like that needs."
"Yes, insolence needs to be addressed," Jason agreed. He resumed running his
hands over the bound woman's body. "Oh, I'm pretty sure I can find a home
for this one. Or I can just sell her at Justin's auction. He's become quite
famous for his clearance sales."
Gabriel threw his head back and laughed. "I really don't need to know
anymore about that. Just pack her up. Hopefully 'Gorgeous' is on her way here.
That is, if she knows what's good for her."
Meanwhile, the helpless girl began struggling again, apparently in response to the talk
of selling and auctions. The two men paid no attention to her as they worked together to
release the strappado rope and lay her on the floor.
"How do you want her?" asked Gabriel.
"The usual. Ball-tie. The trunk. Something to keep her occupied for the
trip."
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