Chapter One

 

"There are three things men can do with women: love them, suffer for them, or turn them into literature."

- Stephen Stills

 

Cindy

 

She was a gorgeous pale redhead in a frothy pink bra and garter set, no panties, white stockings, pink strappy high heels, globular breasts pushed together and upward to form deep cleavage. She was fastened to a large wooden X-frame, arms and legs pulled cruelly taut and far apart, her pert little naked ass criss-crossed with pink welts. She gasped into her ball gag as the whippy bamboo cane slashed across her upper thighs. Her tears were streaking her makeup, but her cock was long and rigid and pulsing, with a single glistening drop of pre-come fluid marking her frustrated passion.

The whipmistress was taking her time with the slow torture of her helpless and aroused victim, aiming each slashing blow for maximum agony. The dominatrix was a tall, statuesque brunette wearing a merrywidow and matching black heels. Her eyes were dark and piercing and there was a cruel smile playing at the corner of her lips.

A miniskirted blonde watched the games, standing ready to help her mistress should the need arise. She held a leash in her hand that was fastened to the collar of a nude older man on his hands and knees. Like Cindy, the shackled she-male being tortured, the kneeling man was erect. He wore a strange harness that imprisoned his purple and swollen shaft helplessly in a tight, constricting ring. His hips thrust forward uncontrollably, his frustrated passion unable to explode through the cruel ring.

It hadn't taken long for Cindy to confess; in fact, she began to babble as soon as the Countess Esmeralda DaVinci, whip-wielding mistress of the household, had cornered her. "She made me-I'm sorry-I couldn't help it-" Cindy moaned, trembling with certain foreknowledge of her fate. "Alcina forced me to crack the computer system and alter the contract you'd prepared for Archer Cordell to sign, and then she made me break through the firewall to send an electronic message to his assistant. Please...please...I couldn't stop her..."

"I'm sure you couldn't," the Countess purred with an evil mocking tone. "You couldn't stop her from fondling your cock and getting you hard, could you? You couldn't stop her from making you spurt all your come when we'd worked so hard to bottle up your juices and improve your health. You couldn't stop her from escaping and robbing me of my very special prize, Archer Cordell, could you?"

Cindy's head hung low. Lizandra, the blonde factotum, a slave girl turned into a senior aide, was equally furious, because she'd been having fun tormenting Archer Cordell during his brief imprisonment at the Countess' castle in the Italian countryside. She was thoroughly bored with torturing the man at her feet. Jordan Byrd, once her master, was now the Countess' naked slave, and Lizandra's toy as well-though Lizandra still enjoyed knowing Jordan would pass an entire year in his own slavery before he was allowed a single orgasm, fitting revenge for the various ways he'd used her when she was his slave.

And Lizandra was furious at being outwitted by Alcina, Archer's slave. She had thought Alcina was as eager for revenge against her master as she had been about Jordan. When Lizandra had allowed Alcina to torment a naked and bound Archer for a while, Alcina had given every indication that she was passionately enjoying herself.

She glanced down at Jordan, on his hands and knees, cock hard as always, with a cruel sneer. Jordan could feel her eyes on him and his cock tormented him as always, but he was secretly pleased. Not that he hadn't wanted to see Archer Cordell receive his much-deserved comeuppance, but he was afraid that Archer would have replaced him in the Countess' special affections. It was difficult enough being a frustrated slave after having been a highly successful, rich and powerful businessman, but he did love the Countess and he was a masochist at heart, and he didn't want any competition.

Faced with the Countess' wrath, it didn't take long for Cindy to end up in shackles, her pink rubber minidress stripped from her, her panties torn away. Her cock had returned to full erection even though it had been thoroughly drained by Alcina. After all, it had been months since the pretty she-male slave had been permitted an orgasm. The Countess believed that orgasms drained life force and vitality, especially from men, and restrained them in her lovers and in her slaves. That was part concern for health, part simple sadism. Cindy trembled, not only from fear of the torments she knew she'd suffer in the hours and days to come, but also from the sure and certain knowledge that she'd had her last orgasm in all the time she would be the Countess' slave.

"I want all the details," the Countess teased wickedly as she fastened a ball gag in the she-male's mouth, making her unable to speak. "So as soon as you tell me every detail, I'll stop your punishment."

"Mmmmh! Mmmmh!" Cindy moaned in helpless fear and desperation. She well knew what cruelties the Countess was capable of.

"I can't understand you, darling," the Countess purred. "Perhaps the cane will loosen your tongue." The first agonizing red-hot blow streaked across the globes of her ass and she moaned and twitched with helpless reflex action at the shock of pain. Although she knew it was futile, she desperately tried to talk through the intruding ball that stretched her jaws apart.

It didn't matter. The Countess knew everything already. Her elaborate plan to trap and capture Archer Cordell, rich jet-setting executive, had nearly succeeded. If it had not been for Alcina, his slave secretary, it would have succeeded completely. Powerful drugs, the pharmaceutical products of her own research laboratories, had shattered his will and he had signed away his freedom and his fortune, but the contract documents had been altered in the computer. Before she could correct it, Cordell's senior aide, Daviel, had shown up with the police to rescue his master. The Countess Esmeralda DaVinci could have stopped the police with a little warning- she was extremely well connected-but it had all come too fast.

"Cindy, my pet," the Countess said, coming around and cupping her face in both hands, "You must be thoroughly chastised for your behavior, but afterward I'm afraid I can no longer keep you in my household. I'm going to sell you, probably into the Middle East. What they'll do to you will make my little games seem like fond and happy memories."

Cindy looked at her mistress with desperation, but saw no mercy in her face. She was doomed. Her cock swelled even harder at the thought of the torments that lie ahead, and had it not been for the tight cock ring she would have spurted helplessly merely from the images that raced through her mind.

 

Daviel

 

Archer Cordell hadn't been the same since he'd freed Alcina, and Daviel wasn't sure what to do about it.

Daviel had been Archer's slave and chief factotum for over ten years. Archer had long since given him a blanket offer of manumission, which Daviel kept in a file folder in his desk drawer, but he never chose to file the papers. He had all the money he would ever need, thanks to generous stock options and his own personal investments, access to a practically unlimited expense account-and nothing to spend it on since the death of his lover Cyril in 2010. Daviel had spent every dollar he had on Cyril's health during his final struggle with AIDS, then embezzled more, resulting in his arrest and enslavement after Cyril's death, ironically one of the last deaths from that terrible plague. By then, he didn't care about anything, and accepted his fate with resignation.

But slowly the spark of life grew within him, and he found new purpose in managing and organizing the chaotic entrepreneurial life of Archer Cordell. He tried to help him on the personal side as well, for Archer was a man at war with himself, in conflict between the two faces of his identity: the one he presented to the world and the one inside himself.

Alcina, the lovely slave who had saved him from the clutches of the Countess Esmeralda, had reached Archer Cordell on that deeper, personal level. But after the trauma of his captivity and torment at the hands of the Countess, he had closed down, freed her in order to free himself, and thrown himself back into his work with a frenzied drive that was more about escapism than about productivity. Daviel was worried about him, but knew from experience that there were barriers even he as a favored slave dared not cross.

Today he was at a slave auction hoping to pick up new staff for Archer's office. The line of criminally-convicted and volunteer slaves was set up for the inspection of the small group of very wealthy owners. Archer never came to the auctions himself; Daviel picked out the slaves and negotiated the purchases.

General office and technical slaves were difficult enough to come by, but the highest prices came for those special slaves who were available for any service a master or mistress might desire. Those slaves were displayed naked, shackled and spread, for the delectation and arousal of the shoppers as well as to humiliate and break the will of the new slaves.

Daviel smiled at the sight of one thick and swollen male organ that quivered as a single bead of clear viscous fluid collected at the tip. Not only were sexual slaves chosen because of their innate libido, special implants stimulated their mental pleasure centers at electronic command, turning the slaves into helpless creatures of pure lust at the whim of any master, mistress, or whoever held the controller. There were other circuits as well, able to stimulate whatever response was required. This was particularly important in managing criminal slaves.

Daviel had his own implant, though thanks to Archer Cordell's programming staff, he now controlled his own circuits. This was good, because a recent hacker sport had been to crack the radio frequencies that controlled the stimulators and play a variety of wicked tricks on the helpless slaves.

Daviel examined the female selection with a clear intellectual eye. They were all beautiful, of course, and wet and writhing from the action of their own pleasure chips. Eager buyers examined the merchandise, most getting altogether too wrapped up in the lust of the moment.

But much of it was an illusion. In this age of genetic manipulation and advanced medical science, movie star or supermodel beauty was available to anyone with even a moderate amount of money and desire. Slavegirls often had their treatments paid for as part of a slave contract, a rewarding investment for everyone concerned.

Because physical perfection had become common, Daviel looked at the merchandise more carefully, because issues of soul and personality were less easily manipulated. Sexuality was easy with the pleasure chip, but there were things harder to fake. He'd scored a winner with the slavegirl Alcina, although how much of a winner he hadn't realized until later. But perhaps it would not be a good idea to introduce anyone like that to Archer anytime soon. Perhaps not ever.

He worried about Archer. Alcina had been good for him, even though he didn't realize it. But how could Daviel make things right when Archer didn't want to cooperate?

 

Jordan

 

"If Archer Cordell thinks he's escaped, let him. Soon enough, I'll have him back in my power, and then he'll quickly learn who his mistress really is," the Countess hissed.

Jordan shivered at the cruel edge in her voice; he knew well what her revenge could be like. He had been a successful businessman and now he was a helpless slave, a plaything, a tease-toy whose squirming and desperate need was a source of amusement to his mistress.

He was also jealous. He'd been jealous of Archer Cordell on many levels, from his financial success to his reputation with women, but most of all because he appealed to Esmeralda, the woman he adored, the woman who had enslaved his soul long before she had captured his body.

He was glad Cordell had escaped; had it been necessary, he would have arranged the escape himself. Fortunately, Cindy had taken the fall for him, and would receive the punishment. Whether the Countess would really sell the she-male into an Arab harem wasn't certain; she often preferred to subject her prisoners to her own range of torments and the angrier she felt, the more wicked and imaginative the punishments she could deal out. But the threat would remain for a long time, and she was capable of delaying the sale for months or even years, until the slave had forgotten. Then, when she tired of punishing her victim, she would sell him-or her-into the most cruel situation she could find.

He hoped that would not be his eventual fate, but he felt fairly safe. He still controlled several important businesses in his own right, and Esmeralda needed him-unless she got angry enough at him. And, after all, he truly loved her. She must know that, appreciate that on some level.

"Jordan, my dear?" the Countess asked, pulling his attention back immediately.

"Yes, mistress?" he said instantly, surprised to be addressed directly.

"If I wanted to ruin Archer, drive him into slavery, how would I do it?"

He paused. He knew that he could probably figure out a strategy for the Countess, but he didn't want Archer anywhere around.

The Countess smiled. "Jordan, for once I won't punish disobedience. I understand how you feel about Archer, and I tell you that you won't have to worry. It's true I wanted him as a slave, and I'd still like to play with him for a while. But he's a threat to us now, because he'll no doubt want revenge for his little visit. I need to have him broken and perhaps he and Cindy can visit Arabia together."

That was entirely different. "Mistress, I live to serve you. I think there may be a way. But what about Alcina?"

"I don't think she's a threat by herself, and my spies tell me that Archer freed her and sent her away. She's more a threat to his emotional equilibrium than to us, unless we go after her personally. And I admire her. She's a lot like our Lizandra, isn't she?"

Jordan nodded. Lizandra had been his secretary and mistress before she went over to the Countess' side, now she dominated and tormented him nearly as much as did the Countess herself.

"Mistress, perhaps it's time I became a businessman again, if only for a while..."