"I think I know what you are referring to," said James after Tonya had asked him if he had ever heard of The Slave Factory. "If you mentioned Per il piacere del Maestro to a hundred thousand different people around the world, you would be hard pressed to find one person who would know what you're talking about," declared James.

 

The young woman sat inside a restaurant bar with a man who was more than twice her age. Neither of them held the slightest concern over the difference between their ages. Captivated by what the older man had been telling her, she was also unaware of the purposes of the two men that sat at a table twenty-five feet away observing her.

"Okay," said Tonya as she leaned across the bar table, "You've got my interest. What does pearl pickle da mistro mean?"

James smiled forgivingly at Tonya's attempted pronunciation. "Basically, it means For the Master's Pleasure," he said.

"James, you can't really be serious, people actually do this? They voluntarily allow themselves to be sold into slavery?" asked Tonya, "And other people, rich people... they are willing to pay out big bucks to own a human being?"

"Yes, the company has been in business for centuries. I think it may have originally started back in the days of the Roman Empire, but its origins are very vague. The name of the outfit is Italian rather than Latin so I don't really know when it began. It's not something you can go online and find a Wikipedia article about."

"Tell me more," pleaded Tonya, "Please? Wouldn't something like this be illegal?"

James glanced around the room to see if anyone might be close enough to overhear, at least checking to see if there was anyone that wasn't supposed to be there.

"I don't know a lot more about it Sweetie; I just know it's a high-dollar business that matches up people willing to be slaves for hire with people who want to own them. What I heard, and based just on rumors you know, is that if you are selected as a candidate slave, then they put you through some kind of training process, then you are auctioned off to the highest bidder. The company keeps part of the money and the slave gets the rest."

"That seems so barbaric, medieval even. So, how much money are we talking about here?" Tonya asked.

"I don't know exactly, but I've heard millions."

"Millions?" gasped Tonya, nearly knocking over her glass of Chablis.

"Yeah, but that's just what I heard, I really don't know any more about it."

"But wait," insisted Tonya, "I must have a thousand more questions... like, when do you get your money and just how far or crazy can someone go with things if they buy you?"

James leaned back in his chair and after thinking a moment, stated, "I can't answer that, I just don't know. I mean, think about it... there must be some limits on what a person would agree to allow, and regardless of how much money is involved; don't you think?"

"Who knows?" wondered Tonya aloud, "I know I'd need to know what I was getting myself into, and for sure, there are things no amount of money would be worth."

"Of course you're right!" agreed James. "But, consider it. Think about what you would do if in the end no permanent harm was done, and then you would be set for life. In the final analysis it really is just a job. Whether you are filling out forms at a desk, or on your knees under a desk sucking a cock, it's still just a job."

"Ha-ha, James... you know me too well. I hate filling out forms. Do you think it is mostly just about sex?" asked Tonya.

"If I let my mind run with it, yes I think a lot of it must be sex but remember Tonya, it is for the Master's pleasure. If he wanted you to shine his fucking shoes, then that is the job you have to do. That's what slavery is, they own you and whatever they want to do with you, they can."

Tonya raised her wine glass and said, "I thought you said they set limits?"

"I said I assume there must be limits. I would think there has to be some sort of list of rules, things the owner can and cannot do, I mean they can't just choose to amputate your foot," James stated. "But I can only speculate on this, you know... and assume things in a common sense sort of way. But I'd bet real money that you would be required to do things and asked to perform acts that you would never do on your own."

"Like what?" Tonya asked?

"Like, well... okay, you know I'm totally straight. If some guy came up to me on the street and said he'd give me money if I sucked his cock, I'd say no fucking way or probably I'd punch him out for it. You know why?"

"I suppose because you aren't gay," chuckled Tonya, as she called the server over to order a refill.

"Another round?" asked the young bar server.

"Yes please ... James, are you ready for another round?"

"No thank you." James said, turning to the bar server, "I'm fine with what I have."

"Just make it one then," said Tonya.

James waited until the server had brought another glass of Chablis for Tonya before he continued. He leaned forward and in a low hushed voice he said, "No, I'm not gay but in that scenario, where some guy walks up to me on the street and I don't know anything about him or how much money he was talking about, I wouldn't believe him. I would think he was full of bullshit. But the real reason is that even if I believed he was going to give me money, I'd figure that it wouldn't be much."

"So, you'd suck cock for money huh? James, I never would have thought," smiled Tonya.

James felt uncomfortable as he tried to make his thoughts clearer to Tonya, wishing he had picked something besides giving blowjobs to illustrate his point. He said, "Let me state it another way. Let's start over and say that a guy walks up to me on the street and says he has money that he is willing to pay me and asks me if I will negotiate with him."

"Okay," replied Tonya, putting as much effort as she could into not laughing.

"Imagine that this stranger and I are setting in a room with a wooden table and I'm on one side, the stranger is on the other side. The man has a bag beside him down on the floor and it has money in it but I don't know how much there is. All I know is that he wants to pay me for something."

"Okay, I'm with you," said Tonya, as she tried to visualize what James was describing.

James continued, "The guy says that he is going to name something he wants me to do and then state an amount of money he would be willing to pay me to do what he says. He tells me that I can say yes or I can say no, or I can just walk away. He also says that if I say, 'No', then I am also saying that 'yes, I have a price for what you want but you haven't reached it yet.'"

"I'm still with you," said Tonya.

"Good," James continued. "Now, if I say no, then he has an option too. He can choose to walk away because his first offer is all he's willing to pay, the negotiation is finished, there is no deal, and I don't get anything. Or... he can continue or even decide to raise his offer."

Tonya nodded her head and said, "Okay, so you're sitting at the table, has he told you that he wants you to go down on him yet?"

"No, I don't know what the other man wants yet. Tonya, don't try to over think this. I would be simply willing to hear what he wants and how much he is willing to pay me for it. That's all there is to it... so far."

Tonya was staring to grow impatient, "So what happens next?"

"The guy tells me that the thing he wants me to do is look at his cock. That's not a big deal right? I've been to the gym, I've seen men's cocks in movies now and then but no, I don't want to look at his fucking dick. However, I've been told that there is money to be made so I say, 'What is the offer?'"

"And." said Tonya.

"The guy reaches down into his bag of money and pulls out a ten-dollar bill and lays it on the table in front of me; now it is my turn to make a choice. Ten dollars isn't a lot of money of course so I just say no. The thing is, there may not be a higher offer but for ten bucks, I am not going to ignore my pride and look at him wagging his wiener at me."

"Okay," Tonya says, as she continued to visualize the room with the wooden table and the creep with his bag of money.

"So, I've said no to the ten bucks and the guy reaches down into his bag again and now there is fifty dollars on the table. Fifty dollars still isn't a lot of money but I start thinking about having a nice steak in a fine restaurant and fifty dollars would pay for that, depending on the restaurant," added James, "but fifty bucks still isn't worth my pride."

"So you wouldn't do it," assumed Tonya.

"No, not for fifty but I have no idea whether there will be a higher offer if I say no, understand? Okay, I say no again and the guy adds more money to the pile and now there is a hundred dollars setting on the table in front of me."

"Okay, okay, I get it, at some point you tell the guy to show you his cock. It's just a matter of guessing how much he is willing to pay," exclaimed Tonya, "You're simply saying that we all have our price."

"That's partially right," nodded James, "But let me finish this out. With a hundred dollars on the table and all I have to do is look at his cock, even though I know he might be willing to pay more, I say I'll do it. That makes me bona fide as a legitimate participant in the negotiation."

"Huh?" questioned Tonya.

"I've proven that I have a price. I've clearly stated that I can be bought and made to do something I normally wouldn't do if the money is right."

"Yes, I sort of see, but weren't you, what did you call it? Bona fide... when you didn't just walk out when he tells you what he wanted?" asked Tonya, thoughtfully.

James came back quickly, "No, because until I agree to something, I haven't indicated that I have a price, even though I am willing to hear offers."

"Okay, so you are a whore... I always figured that James," giggled Tonya.

"Precisely, and who isn't? So, I reach over and grab the hundred dollars and the asshole unzips his pants and I look at his cock. Then he reaches down into his bag again and puts five hundred on the table and says it is mine if I'll touch his cock."

"Ewe," giggled Tonya.

"Ewe right," laughed James, "Touching another man's cock is not my thing, I never have and I've always told myself I never would. However, accepting the bargain to look at it for a hundred, even though it wasn't really over my limit proves I do have a price and when the guy raises his offer to a thousand dollars, I reach over and wrap my fingers around his pecker."

"It's all or nothing," muttered Tonya, as she started to grasp what her long-time friend was telling her.

"Exactly!" declared James, "Of course, now that I've sold my pride and stepped over my own limits for a thousand dollars, you can probably figure out what comes next. 'Suck me off,' the man says and here is five thousand dollars. I either take it or take the risk that he won't offer me more. Maybe I hold out for a quarter of a million dollars and I do the deed."

"It wouldn't take a quarter of a million for me," laughed Tonya, her thoughts shift from a room with two men down to one, where they are now riding down the highway in a brand new convertible.

"Yeah, but you're a girl, it isn't a big deal for you to suck a man's cock. Let me finish my analogy. I did what he asked for what he offered and now I have that quarter-mill in my pocket. I'm not set for life but there is a lot I can do with that kind of money. The man reaches into his pocket, pulls out a knife and lays it on the table, and then he says he will give me a million bucks if I take the knife and cut off my own dick. I'd say no of course, but I'd wonder... is there a price that I would be willing to do that as well?"

Tonya frowned, "Now you're just getting gross."

"Yes, but that gets us back to what I was talking about earlier. There has to be a hard limit somewhere, where you have this long list of things you are willing to do if the price is right but at some point, the item on the list is beyond pricing. No matter if it was all the money in the world, there is some line you just won't cross."

"Common sense, yes I understand now," said Tonya.

"Maybe common sense, but like I said before, I don't suck cocks but for the right amount, I suppose I might. All I know is that I wouldn't want to be put into a position where I had that kind of decision to make."

"That wouldn't bother me," replied Tonya, "I think I know what I can handle and what I can't."

"Yeah, well maybe you should do it then. I'm just saying that I wouldn't want to be put in that position and make those kinds of choices. Tonya, you've got a hell of a future ahead of you, you wouldn't need to debase yourself like that. What are you, twenty-two? You look like a million bucks, you're smart, educated, you have a good job; and you have Mark..."

"Oh yeah, like this stuff is really real, as for Mark, well, Mark is great but, I don't know... there is something missing there," sighed Tonya.

"Oh, now that's a first coming from you, what's wrong?" inquired James.

"Nothing is... wrong, it is more like something isn't right, you know what I mean? There is just something incomplete about our relationship."

James pondered what Tonya said and asked, "Are you still living together?"

"Yes, but I don't know for how much longer. He asked me to marry him."

"He did? Wow, when did that happen?" exclaimed James.

"About a week ago, I told him I... well, I told him probably."

"I don't think probably or maybe is the kind of answer you are supposed to give to a marriage proposal," chuckled James, "Anything but yes usually translates to no."

"I know, but... when he asked me, I was really happy and excited and... I came this close to saying yes," declared Tonya, holding her hands in front of her with her palms facing but not touching to illustrate how close she had come. "The thing is I felt he wasn't that disappointed when I wouldn't commit to it."

James responded, "Hmmm..."

"Yeah," agreed Tonya, "that's what I meant when I said things weren't quite right. Not only did I hesitate, I got the feeling he was relieved when I didn't say yes to him right away."

James reflected on what Tonya had shared and remarked, "Putting this my way, you were willing to play house with Mark, do the things that a married couple does but when he asked you to marry him, what you would have to give in return to him is a life-long commitment. That was the part that was beyond your limit."

Tonya pondered for a moment and then nodded at James but she wished that he would talk more about the slave thing. Although she considered the idea of selling herself as some kind of sex slave ludicrous, it was a way out of what was really going on in her life, she granted that.

She felt a sense of dependency on Mark and she liked those feelings but Mark was too much like that himself. He was probably sitting at home right now having kittens wondering where Tonya was, and not because he worried about her, or wanted her to fix his dinner. He would be freaking out that perhaps she had abandoned him. Tonya was comfortable being dependent on someone herself; she just was not comfortable with things the other way around. It was the subconscious reason why she had never wanted to have pets.