Harry Winston reclined in the overstuffed comfort of his chair idly watching the evening news.

He wasn't alone, a naked redhead was also there, kneeling between his legs. Her hands were tightly cuffed behind her back and her face was pressed into his lap, her mouth closed around his only slightly hard dick.

Winston sighed as she increased her tempo in a desperate effort to get him hard. She licked and sucked, working soft lips up and down the length of his penis ...

She knows that I'll punish her if she fails to bring me off, he thought. Hell, I might punish her in any case!

He thought about what sort of punishment he might use, briefly fantasizing how the girl would look suspended from the ceiling of his slave quarters with a whip curling around her nicely curved hips and thighs...

He grew slightly harder.

The girl felt the change-and increased her efforts, spurred on by this perceived success...

Hell, he thought as he felt himself once again shrinking in her mouth. It's not her fault I can't get it up... He shook his head. I've got to face the facts-I'm bored!

He grabbed a handful of the girl's hair and pulled her away from his dwindling non-erection.

"Don't worry, I know this isn't your fault..." He struggled to remember her name-to no avail.

She's new, he remembered, no name appearing in his mind. I just got her in a trade with 'the guys'.

"...Slave," he finished; smiling with the realization that name was always correct. "Go now-run to your kennel. I want to find you kneeling in front of it when I come down."

"Yes Master," she licked her lips. "Is master sure..."

"Do I have to repeat the order?" Winston scowled at her. "Do you want me to punish you?"

A flash of fear crossed the redhead's face as she pushed herself to her feet-rather gracefully for a new slave-and hurried out of the big room.

Winston watched her retreat, absently admiring the swing of her hips. Why can't I get it up? He asked himself. I can see that she's beautiful, why can't I enjoy her?

Why the hell am I bored!

He was busy enough. The film studio he headed was doing well-although he knew it would have long since been sold or driven out of business if it hadn't been for...

That film! His eyes widened as he thought about it. Of course! The last time I was really excited was when we made that film!

It had been Winston's idea to make a feature-length film about the bdsm world-a film that showed how young girls were enslaved, trained, and made to serve their new masters. He'd brought in an award-winning cinematographer-who was also a closeted enthusiast-and a top-notch director who knew something about the hidden world of white slavery. Together they'd rounded up a group of beautiful would-be actresses and turned them into soft, willing slave girls while the cameras ran, capturing the whole thing in detail-every lash, every torture--everything.

The film, even though released clandestinely, had brought in a ton of money-not to mention a great deal of interest from various law-enforcement agencies-interest which had quickly blown over when the next 'crisis' came along and drew the Feds away.

All except for a single, very stubborn, agent. What was her name? Winston smiled and searched his memory...

Kelly! He nodded. Special Agent in Charge Megan Kelly, he nodded slowly as it all came back.

She had been a cast-iron bitch who'd actually managed to figure out where the missing girls went and who it was that took them. He smiled. It's a good thing that we got her before she was able to communicate that information to anyone other than her boss. The smile widened. And a better thing that her 'boss' was one of our customers!

Winston and his partners had sold off the girls used in the film to special clients-one of them, Ms. Blanchette, a deputy director of the FBI and Kelly's immediate superior hadn't wanted any of them-she'd requested someone special.

Special Agent Megan Kelly.

And now Kelly is her slave, kneeling at her bedside, heeling her as she moves from room to room.

Winston smiled as he thought of the proud agent licking the feet of her one-time boss-and remembered that the last time he'd seen the two of them, Kelly was doing just that--licking her new Mistresses boots.

He doubted the blonde's status had changed since.

That was a fun time, he thought. And the excitement over the possibility of getting caught made it even more enjoyable!

Winston hadn't been involved in anything like that since. Maybe that's why I'm bored...

Winston's attention was drawn to the still-active television. A commercial was running-one in which a group of young dancers were writhing rather fetchingly as they tried to sell a new kind of bed. He studied the action for a long moment-then came to a decision.

It's time to make another special film! He nodded once. Only this time, rather than actresses, we'll grab a bunch of dancers. He watched the end of the commercial. I always wanted to see just how flexible they were anyway!

He sat back and began to make plans-and realized that he was hard as a rock!

My idea can wait, he smiled. At least until I punish my redhead. The smile widened. And fuck her the way she deserves to be fucked!