Two women knelt, naked, hands clasped behind their necks. Their backs were ramrod
straight, breasts thrust forward, stomachs taut, and knees spaced widely apart. A nude
man, dark and handsome, knelt beside them, his heavy sex erect and glistening.
"Part of their daily routine," explained one of the two men watching through
the glass. “This viewing room enables potential buyers to discreetly appraise our
stock."
"Look, I`m not -"
"That one, for example," the Host continued. "Twenty-five years old and
married to a wealthy stockbroker. Once she displayed absolute outrage at any affront to
her modesty. Observe."
A man clad in a strange livery of red jacket, black breeches, white stockings and patent
leather shoes entered. They could not hear his order through the glass but, without demur,
the woman rose to her feet and turned in one graceful movement. She hurried to kneel
before the costumed man and began to unbutton his breeches. Taking his large, limp member,
she caressed it expertly with her lips, quickly encouraging an erection. The other woman
and the naked man remained immobile.
"I am not a potential buyer," the visitor insisted, nevertheless assessing the
exquisite young woman who knelt before the glass. The hair was shaven from her body and
she proudly displayed firm, perfectly formed breasts, badged with honey-coloured aureolae
and thrusting nipples. Her midriff was pleasingly taut and, below, the denuded lips of her
cleft were enticingly parted.
Perhaps you would be more interested in the male?"
“No."
"Our prices are reasonable, considering that we have invested a lot of time and
money in each of them. Perhaps you would care to make an offer?"
"I do not buy women - or men."
The visitor made little effort to conceal his contempt. Wealthy and handsome, he
experienced little difficulty in obtaining the company of desirable women. Presently, the
door in the training room opened once more and another naked woman entered. The visitor
gasped.
"Unlike the other specimens, this one is not for open sale," the Host said,
pausing before adding meaningfully, "yet."
"I don`t understand -"
"Your wife, I believe?"
"It can`t be!"
Beyond the glass, the valet looked up from his pleasure and spoke. The newcomer moved to
stand prettily in front of the glass, only inches away from the visitor, her husband. He
scrutinised the delightful creature in disbelief. Always attractive, she was now
incredibly beautiful. It was definitely his wife, alive, but the organisation had
transformed her.
"Her breasts were rather inadequate: we have had them shaped and augmented. And her
nose was less than perfect but we have corrected that. She was a little overweight, of
course. We could probably achieve such results with any woman - anyone`s wife."
"I will destroy you," the visitor hissed with venom, and two large men who had
been standing quietly at the rear of the viewing room now moved forward threateningly. The
visitor prudently controlled his rage.
"We have not achieved such perfection without pain, effort and expense," the
Host continued. "See how vital and alive she is now? Your wife has become
accomplished in the erotic arts. She greatly entertained one of our more demanding guests
only last night."
In obedient and unquestioning response to a command, the woman slowly and deliberately
began to caress her shaven slit.
"She has embraced her slavery as you can see. We freed her mind and released her
from society`s inhibitions. She, like all of our other acquisitions, can enjoy the
punishments and discipline, because she is safe in the knowledge that we would never
damage her. My rules do not allow maiming, breaking of the skin or burning, for
example."
"You are insane."
"Shall we say half a million?"
"Quite mad!"
"We can simply sell her to someone else. Regrettably, not for half a million pounds,
of course, but we would turn a profit."
The man watched, agonised, as his young wife lasciviously stroked her feminine
intimacies. Was she aware that people watched? Probably. She undoubtedly knew of the
two-way mirror. The delectable creature caressed her magnificent, firm breasts, teasing
the pert nipples into protruding hardness. Her tongue flicked out salaciously as she gazed
at her own reflection.
"This one has proved a problem, by the way," the Host said, indicating the
woman who continued to expertly fellate the valet. "We miscalculated and her husband
could not afford her. As for the other, his spouse does not want him. We shall sell them
elsewhere, of course."
The visitor bit his lower lip and thought swiftly. "Why shouldn`t I just go to the
authorities?"
"What authorities?" the Host replied with a laugh. "I am the authority
here. Anyway, you don`t even know the location of our island - it is one among thousands
in this part of the world. Oh yes, apart from the cinematic record of your wife`s
wantonness, we also graphically recorded your exploits last night... the woman you enjoyed
was someone`s wife, of course. Finally, numbered among our patrons are the most powerful
and ruthless people in the world. They would not thank you for risking their exposure to
criminal charges."
"This is extortion!"
The man`s wife toyed with her engorged nipples and stroked the surrounding silky flesh as
she feverishly worked herself with her other hand.
"As you can see," the Host said, "she is particularly fond of those
magnificent breasts. Her only aim is pleasure and she is fully-trained to satisfy your
every whim."
The woman tossed her head back and groaned in the throes of a climax. Her husband
suddenly noticed that he himself now had an erection.
"We offer a comprehensive after-sales service. She can be subjected to periodic
refresher training. The discipline here is corporal and she probably would not wish to
return more often than necessary."
Spent now, shoulders relaxed, the woman stood obediently before the mirror and ran a hand
through her dark mane.
"I need time to think," her husband said.
"There is no shortage of alternative buyers. We have an offer for your wife already
as a matter of fact - from the guest who had her last night. He is not a kind man and her
bondage would not be easy. Our patrons include a wide spectrum of wealthy connoisseurs:
minor European royalty, wealthy business people, Arab oil-sheiks, owners of specialist,
high-class brothels ... we will deal with anyone who has the money."
It was the major venue on the island - a cavernous, circular area in the main block of
the complex. They called the large room Big Hall. It was lavishly furnished, with every
concession to fashionable and opulent design themes. Around the open, central dance floor,
elegant wealthy people dined on the offerings of expert chefs. An orchestra played
discreet music while guests drank fine wines and made sophisticated small talk.
Three women glided around the large room as if clad in expensive designer gowns. And a
man, too. His naked cock erect and bobbing with each step. Leashed by fine chains affixed
to their red collars, they were each led by a liveried valet. Guests watched appraisingly,
comparing notes and exchanging comments.
The visitor, seated at a table towards the rear of the room, was again accompanied by two
burly guards. He watched, clearly agonised. One of the women was his wife! A valet led
her, placid and obedient, from one table to the next. She knelt on all fours as a man in
Arab dress hefted her large, pendent breasts. Then someone parted her buttocks and she
jerked as a finger invaded the exposed rear orifice.
Despite these indignities, she cooperated totally and without protest. A middle-aged,
hard-faced woman cruelly pinched her inner thigh, and then sharply slapped her taut
stomach. Someone forced her mouth widely open. She stood erect and passive as a large,
bearded man ran practised hands over her breasts, down her flanks, and then stood behind
her, repeating the thorough appraisal. The naked woman meekly allowed him to lift each
ankle and run his palm over the soles her feet.
The valet tugged the leash and this beautiful, elegant woman progressed to the next
table, smiling dutifully. There, a crone-like woman, expensively gowned and bejewelled,
thrust two fingers deeply into the chattel`s vagina. People at the table smiled when the
painted hag commented on the cloying wetness she found there. Guards had warned the
visitor to be silent. Several times he seemed about to jump to his feet but each time the
valets restrained him. He watched grim-faced as his wife submitted to the degrading
examinations.
"Enough," the visitor eventually said. "I will pay her price."
Carlos Fernandez, sitting alongside the Host, smiled with satisfaction.
"Congratulations," he said in his clipped Spanish accent. "Have you given
any thought to the proposition I made regarding my own dear wife?"
The Host did not answer from some moments. Then he said: "Senor Fernandez, you are
one of our most valued patrons, you have stocked your estate in Andalucia with purchases
made here. You wife participates in their discipline?"
"Serita is a cruel bitch, Fernandez smiled, "but I would like experts to teach
her."
"Very well. I will invite her to join our training team here. You must understand
that you cannot hold me responsible for her fidelity. It is a sensuous island, as you are
aware."
Fernandez laughed. "Our relationship has cooled to one of sexual indifference. There
is one thing, though - Serita must not know that I have arranged this for her."
The Host inclined his head in agreement. "I will contact her without delay. As it
happens, there will be fresh acquisitions for her to practise on, senor."
It was true for, even as he spoke, the Host`s white slave network was busily acquiring
new stock.
In London, on a cold morning in early summer, Sally Clark stepped from her apartment. She
was clad in running shoes, tiny shorts and a tight white vest that she particularly liked
because it moulded so nicely against her ample breasts.
On that day, like any other, she set off to jog through the park, taking the same route
and, as always, never speaking to a soul. Man-made hillocks and mown grass, thoughtfully
planted shrubberies, metal bridges... she knew every twist and contour.
There were few people in the park at that time in the morning. An occasional workman
taking a short-cut to one of the few remaining factories glanced up as she jogged past.
Sometimes there would be a whistle of appreciation. There was some pleasure in that and,
knowing herself appraised, she would suck in her gut, almost involuntarily accentuating
her figure. Sally was an attractive young woman and, when skimpily clad in tight vest and
running shorts, her charms were apparent enough.
Sally had lived alone ever since arriving in London after problems at home. Everything
went well at first. She found a small but comfortable flat, albeit at an exorbitant
rental. She even landed a job in the office of a solicitors` practice and commenced work,
subject to satisfactory references. Then things began to go wrong. She never knew what her
referees had written but, within weeks, the senior partner summoned her to his office...
not quite what they wanted, best to part company now. As he spoke, the distinguished,
steely-haired man had twisted a curiously-styled, iron signet ring on his finger.
It proved almost impossible to find another job. Sally`s money was dwindling fast and her
rent was in arrears. Then, quite unexpectedly, she met the urbane senior solicitor, her
ex-boss, near her apartment block. He seemed quite concerned about her welfare and gave
her a business card, advising that she contact the person named. She did so and now, two
months later, found herself working for an escort agency.
At least, that was what it was politely called. Like all of the other girls at the
agency, Sally discovered that it was easy to supplement the meagre pay by offering extra
services. Many assignments ended in bed in some hotel room. She told herself that it was
not prostitution, exactly. And always, but always, Sally rose in the early hours and
returned to her own apartment, determined to keep some semblance of normality in her
life.
On this particular day, workmen seemed to be repairing the track again. They had parked a
large yellow van on the grass and deep muddy tracks showed where it had been driven from
the nearby roadway. Its rear-doors were open, with a metal ramp at the rear for unloading
and loading from the tailgate. Two men clad in blue donkey-jackets leaned on spades some
yards from the van, in the very centre of the path.
Accustomed to frank stares and lewd comments from workmen, Sally jogged past but stared
straight ahead and ran onto the muddy grass to skirt the two men. However, this was not
just another dull morning. She had scarcely passed the workmen when they grabbed her arms,
a man on either side. Without giving her chance to break stride, before she could even
scream, they ran her up the ramp and into the van. Before she really knew what was
happening the men applied a fetid pad to her face, and she lost consciousness almost
immediately.
Sally Clark was on her way to the Bond-Age Club.
Jade Preston, naked, padded into the large bedroom of her London home, glancing
instinctively at the full-length mirror as she passed. She was a vain woman who never
missed the opportunity to view her image and she was usually pleased by what she saw. Jade
wandered across the room to open the uppermost drawer of a dressing table, the drawer
filled with the expensive frothy lingerie that she adored. Then, suddenly aware that eyes
were upon her, she turned and saw her husband, watching from the doorway. He was clad in a
black silk dressing gown.
"John! You startled me," she said with a smile, straightening and enjoying his
frank stare. "When did you get back?"
"I didn`t want to wake you. Have you been good?"
"Very good, I think," she said with a smile. "How was your trip?"
"It was profitable. Come here."
She approached him and moulded herself against his hard body, shivering at the
deliciously sensuous feel of soft silk against her naked curves. "Darling," she
wheedled, "would you mind if Sebastian joined us for the cruise next week?"
"You’ve been seeing him again?"
"You said you wouldn`t mind," Jade said, nuzzling her lips against his neck.
Jade felt him straighten slightly. Her heart pounded a little. She knew that, tolerant as
John was about her peccadilloes, he was quietly jealous. But then, their marriage was
supposed to be open and modern.
Jade had always been a sensuous creature. She needed men. John, tanned and handsome, was
the nearest she had found to her ideal partner. He had an air of mystery and danger about,
him. Jade knew instinctively that many of his jaunts overseas involved some risk but John
never said anything about that. He was a strong and self-assured man and it was this
strength that Jade found attractive. But he was away from home so often...
"What do you see in that pretty boy?"
"I don`t know."
She spoke the truth: Jade did not truly know what she sought in love or sex. No matter
how good her relationship with John, no matter how many casual affairs, there was always
something missing. She found sexual satisfaction of a sort but there was something
indefinable and extra that she yearned for.
John reached down to stroke her fleecy cleft, quickly finding the unusually large and
protuberant clitoris that nestled there. Jade squirmed as she felt the nub becoming
massively engorged. That little monster between her sex lips always forced her to yield to
strong base appetites, the ones she did not properly understand.
He hurled her upon the bed. Jade liked it that way. A warm glow heated her belly. She
wanted him to maul her small pert breasts. She needed to feel small and helpless beneath
his power. Once charged with passion, Jade was voracious in demanding penetration, and her
heart palpitated as he bludgeoned his rampant penis into her wet slit and she bucked up to
receive it. Groans and ecstatic cries filled the room as he pistoned violently within the
yielding, fully-awakened feminine flesh.
John was a capable and virile lover. His violent fucking went on for some time. Then,
when Jade was reduced to a quivering, begging animal, his forefinger found the rose of her
anus. God! She loved that. This was always the coup de grace. Jade bucked and writhed as
he penetrated the tight opening and, within seconds, a deep, throaty gurgle announced the
onslaught of her climax. Presently, panting and perspiring, she lay beside John on the
bed.
"You don`t have to invite Sebastian on the cruise if you don`t want to," she
said.
"There`s room on the boat."
"Sebastian isn`t strong, you know. Not like you. Neither am I."
John did not reply as he rose from the bed and pulled the dressing gown over his
shoulders. Rather than looking into his face, Jade gazed at his semi-tumescent cock,
framed as it was by the open drape of black silk.
"I did not expect you back so soon," she said. "Sebastian was going to
take me to the theatre this evening."
"That`s okay. One of the Foreign Office boys has arranged a business meeting for me
tonight. I`ll be in Soho at a place called the Bond-Age Club."
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