ALICE - A PAUL PURPLE STORY

BY CORNER GHOST

[ part 3 ]

I was just relaxing under that shower when the man walked in pushing Billie-Jo in, her chest and vagina were raw red, but it was the blood on her vagina that shocked me, he hadn’t even bothered to wash it off of her! What type of person is he?

Then he looked at me and then said. . “Don’t worry girl, I’m used to the view! Now what’s your name?”

I glared at him, how dare he just speak like that. “I’m Alice Watson . . . I mean Alice Fornalski.” I said.

“Alice eh? Well I suppose we could let you keep that, now follow me upstairs!” He said and started to walk away, I didn’t move only looked at his naked back.

“Why?” I asked him expecting him to turn around and hit me, but then a voice spoke from the bed, it was Pauline.

“Because he is the master and you will obey him, don’t forget the taser . . . he can be much worse!” She told me and her hand grasped hold of that little thing.

“Or because I asked you to, follow me . . . please.” The man asked me, his voice showing nothing, not even anger. I looked at Billie-Jo who was lying on the bed as Pauline started to dab at some of the blood on her vagina.

----

I followed that man up the stairs into a hallway, he showed me the front door and the locks that surrounded it, including one that needed a fingerprint to work. “That one also controls the alarms, if you try to get out this way then the door and windows are fixed and unopenable.” He said sounding smug.

He then tapped on a window. “That is toughened glass, like armoured glass only better. You wouldn’t be able to smash it.” He seemed to take pride in that and then he indicated the area outside.

“The nearest neighbour is about 3 miles in that direction, but the ground is either stony or boggy, one or the other I’m not really sure.” He walked along and we entered a room.

I’m not sure what I was expecting, whips on the wall, pictures of torture or something, but it reminded me of the head-teacher’s office in school, a desk with a computer on the top of it, some screens around the side, two telephones and a photograph.

He sat behind the desk and gestured to a chair, I sat down . . . oh wow! I don’t know what it was covered in, but it felt so good on my skin! You know I hadn’t realised that I was still naked, I’d walked all through his house naked and hadn’t felt anything! Weird or what?

He watched me, his hands had been clasped and his elbows were on the top of the desk, he rested his chin on his hands and then spoke.

“What the blazes am I to do with you?” He asked, I just kept quiet, “I can’t take you back and you’re too old for the training I would need to give you, all I can see you being is a waste of food! Give me a reason for keeping you alive!” He looked at me straight in the eyes . . . as if begging me to help him?

What could I say? I didn’t want to remain here, but I couldn’t leave poor Billie-Jo in their clutches alone. I tried to open my mouth to answer but couldn’t. I just dropped my head and started to cry.

I don’t know how, but somehow he was holding me, just like daddy did – stroking my hair and . . . well, just being there as I cried on him.

“Now that’s not fair of you young lady. Here take this.” A large white handkerchief was being waved in my eyes, He allowed me to wipe my eyes, as I did so I realised that I was in the arms of a naked man, a very naked man! I went to pull away expecting him to keep hold of me . . . but he didn’t! This wasn’t what I expected of this man.

“I though . . . I mean don’t you . . . rape . . . girls? I suppose I’m not pretty enough.” I finished sounding lame even to my ears.

“Alice, stop that! You are as pretty as many girls so don’t put yourself down! And you’re right, I do rape girls. I have to show them what they can expect in their new life, in some cases I offer them something better than they had expected to look forward to.” The man said.

I shook my head, “But . . . it’s evil! You cause all their suffering and then turn them into what? Slaves for people to use and throw away?” I accused him.

“Is that what you think? If that was true then why are we talking like this? Why haven’t I just killed you and thrown you away?” He said quickly.

“I don’t know, maybe it would be a waste of your money?” I said angrily

But he shook his head, “No, I must admit it was a hard decision, I mean I could have passed you onto another trainer, but I’d better tell you that the only ones who would have taken you are those involved in snuff films.” I just looked at him, my puzzlement evident to him.

“You don’t know what snuff films are?” He asked me, I shook my head. “Well the main story is the rape and torture of a victim, usually a young girl your age. These can involve cutting off parts of the girls’ body, while she is still alive, whittling her down until she dies of lack of blood or from her injuries. That is the snuff part, the victim will die and it doesn’t matter how pretty or ugly she is.”

I couldn’t believe what he was telling me, “You’re kidding right? I mean who would pay to see something like that?” I asked him.

He sadly shook his head, I knew one girl. She was killed like that. She’s why I changed my approach. Somehow I can find those girls who have problems at home, need rescuing, and then I place them with people who, yes want a slave, but will look after the girl.” He said to me his eyes looking toward the corner of the room as if he could see someone there, a tear at the corner of his eye? What kind of man is this?

“Mister, hey mister, remember me?” What was I doing? I didn’t want him to remember me.

He turned to look at me, “If you are going to talk to me my name is Paul, but you should call me Master or Sir while I’m training you.” He, Paul, said.

“Yes Sir, but are you going to train me? And how?” I asked him.

He gave a short laugh, “Well you’re here and it’s a shame not to take advantage of this.” He went back to his chair and pressed the mouse button to open his computer.

“Alright Slave Alice, I’ll start you on a training programme, but I will warn you now, you will not interfere with anyone else’s training routine, I’ve spent years perfecting my work, it may seem harsh but the end result is worth it – both for me and the girls I train.” He said, and seemed proud of this.

“What about Billie-Jo, are you going to rape her again?” I asked him.

“Not that it’s any of your business Slave Alice, but the answer is yes, but soon she’ll learn the pleasures of sex, at the moment she needs to be stretched inside to be able to take cocks without it hurting her. I don’t rape just for the thrill of it, there is always a purpose for everything I do, please remember that!” He said a touch of anger in his voice.

“But why? And what pleasure can you get from sex? Whenever HE had sex with mum HE always makes her cry – So it’s all a lie isn’t it!” I knew I had him there.

He shook his head sadly, “It sounds like your father enjoys hurting her, some people get off on that. But how can you say that you don’t have pleasure, haven’t you felt it when you masturbate?” he asked me – how could he ask such a question?

Well, I couldn’t answer it, not at first but he just kept watching me that I had to say something. I felt myself burning, I was so red, “I . . . I’ve never really . . . I mean I heard stories . . . but how could they even think of putting there hands . . . down there?” I said sounding disgusted, but I have to admit I felt a strangeness in my tummy.

He looked at me, “Then, at the moment, you’ll have to take my word that it can be pleasurable, but I think that had better be all the questions you need to ask at the moment. Now will there be anyone looking out for you, going to the police, things like that?” He asked me.

I thought for a moment, HE wouldn’t miss me, except for something to look at and threaten, and from the way mum spoke to me this morning I think she’d be happy that I wasn’t around. I shook my head.

“What no-one? What about your mother? Surely she would be worried about you?” He asked me. I wanted to shout out ‘YES, She would!’ but somehow I knew she wouldn’t, she’d be happy with HIM, letting HIM hurt her. And so I shook my head, “What about your father?” He asked me.

That set me off again, I burst into tears. “My . . . dad . . . mum left him . . . two year ago . . . she took me . . . with her . . . he’s never even . . . tried to find us . . . he wouldn’t . . . know if I . . . was missing!” I said between sobs.

“Well what about your step-father? Wouldn’t he miss you?” The man, Paul, sounded really interested.

“Oh yeah! He’d miss me; miss looking at my body, miss breaking into my bedroom tonight!” I said bitterly.

Paul looked up, “How far has he got?” He asked - I might have known it’s all men are interested in I suppose!

“He managed to see me in my bra and panties, okay?” I managed a touch of sarcasm in my tone.

“That wasn’t what I meant, has he touched you or anything like that?” He asked me.

“Ugh! You’ve got to be kidding! I wouldn’t let him touch me.” I said.

“Alright, so you hate your step-father, what if it was your real father who wanted to look at you, would you let him?” He asked me his tone was serious although I did look at his face to see if he was joking.

“Umm. I don’t know. I . . . I think I might, but I don’t know.” I finally said but the feeling in my tummy got stronger as I thought about it. “Okay, so you don’t like your step-father, what is his name?” Paul asked me.

“Red, Red Fornalski . . . what parent would call their son Red?” I said, Paul didn’t make a comment but just wrote it down.

“When did he marry your mother, the exact date if you know it?” I didn’t understand why he was asking me this, but I told him. “And now your father’s name and his last address.”

I cried as I told him and then I asked him, “Why do you need this?”

He put his pen down and regarded me before speaking. “I have to know if you’ve been reported missing, the more information you can give me the easier it will be for my people to check. Now, your home address and the school you attend . . . your favourite subjects at school? Least favourite? Do you have any medical problems? . . . The time of your last period, and finally the type of contraceptive do you use?” He sounded like a doctor; all he was missing was a white coat . . . or anything else! I hesitated on the last two questions, I finally told him last week and none.

He looked up at me on the last answer, “Well mum said that good girls didn’t need them, and so I wasn’t allowed to have any!” I said keeping my head down.

“And what else did your mother tell you.” He asked me with a small smile on his lips.

“She told me never to touch myself . . . down there, that good girls didn’t do things like that, it only leads to problems – look what happened when HE tried anything!” I said and then looked at Paul guiltily.

“Yes, you ran away and nearly screwed up my recruitment of that girl, yes your mother was right.” Then he smiled at me to show that sometimes he could be a good person. “Alright I’ve got an idea about your lessons while you are here, now stand up and let me look at you.”

This was what I was dreading; at least when HE saw me I still had some clothes on – now I had nothing. I slowly stood up before him, my hands moving around my body as if trying to hide my body parts away from his eyes.

“Alice, there is very little of you that I haven’t seen already, so there’s no need for modesty!” His tone was firm and I was somehow reminded of the head-master image that I’d had when we entered the room.

He got up and approached me, I could see his penis as he did this, and it wasn’t as I thought it should be, it was more like a shrivelled worm, hardly threatening. Paul noticed my eyes and looked down.

“Doesn’t look like much does it?” He asked and I shook my head. “And like this it can’t do much to a girl. Do you want to touch it?” I went to move back but he stopped me, “It’s alright you don’t have to . . . just yet.” He said - I didn’t like the ‘just yet’ part though.

He then went behind me, “Don’t worry, I’m trying to see how strong you are, I’m not going to hurt you.” And he grasped my arms holding them down by my side.

“What are you doing?” I said, starting to panic.

“Now raise you arms,” he told me, “try to stop me from keeping your hands by your sides.” I did as he asked, straining away, pushing up against him. Until finally exhausted I had to stop. “That wasn’t too bad, but I think you’re going to have to exercise a bit more, so I’ll start you on a gymnastic routine, that will increase you stamina and upper body strength. I’ll also have Pauline teach you some basic self defence. And I’ll have a doctor examine you for a contraceptive shot.”

He walked back to his desk and sat down. While he was writing I just stared at him – in amazement or shock I’m not sure. “You are going to teach me self defence? And get a doctor to look at me? What if I tell her what’s happening here?”

“She knows, in fact she is one of my customers, so it won’t matter what you tell her. You don’t understand about this work, it’s one of the most illegal things that can be done, but people want to have their own private slave, one that is best suited for their needs, this is the service that I provide . . . And if I didn’t then someone else would. But I ensure the well being of my slaves.” He handed me several sheets of paper with the word Contract at the top of the page. “This is my standard contract; I suggest you read the highlighted parts.”

I quickly scanned through the parts he told me and then paused before going back to them and reading them again, I looked up at him. “They have rights? Access to the internet and email programs? Evidence of ill-treatment beyond negotiated requirements and you take the slave back? Termination of slave meaning termination of buyer? What type of contract is this?”

He nodded, “Oh I stand by this and all those who deal with me have to agree with it. I mean some slaves are required to allow their masters to hit them and although I don’t like that type of thing I ensure that the slave is able to turn the pain into pleasure. I did have one girl who was brought by a man who then lost her to some gangsters and was being held in a brothel.” He paused for a moment.

“What happened to her?” I asked him.

“I rescued her and placed her with a person who loves her and looks after her, she’s into something different now but she enjoys it.” He said and for some reason looked at the monitor while he was speaking.

“And what about the original owner, didn’t he protest?” I asked, although I didn’t really want to know.

“He couldn’t cope with the loss of his slave and killed himself. But he was a weak person and shouldn’t really have brought her in the first place.” There was a hardness in Paul’s tone, it suggested that he could do things when they had to be done, I didn’t want to see him angry with me.

“Does she contact you?” I asked trying to steer the conversation back to nicer things.

“Oh yes, she’s quite the regular talker.” He smiled again and then got serious. “Now Alice it’s time for you to back downstairs, about the sleeping arrangements I’m afraid you’ll going to have to share the bed in the basement. Pauline will be up here and it will be you and Billie-Jo downstairs. I don’t want to hear from either of you during the night, and tomorrow I’ll start your lessons.”

“Lessons? Like school you mean?” I said although he had spoken of them earlier.

“Of course, the one thing I don’t like is the squandering of intelligence, all my girls are rounded in their class work, and I do hope your handwriting is perfect, otherwise you’ll going to learn calligraphy as well!” I tried to see if he was joking . . . but I don’t think he was.

I followed him back downstairs to the basement where Pauline was getting Billie-Jo to stand on her tip-toes. When we arrived she told Billie-Jo to stand normally and then bow to Paul.

“Master, I hope you don’t mind but I’m starting this slave’s training now, she has a tendency to twist her feet slightly, I though by getting her to stand on tip-toes she might learn not to.” Pauline said and I could see the taser in her hand.

“That’s very good Pauline, but now I want her to suck me. Billie-Jo! Come here!” I couldn’t believe he was going to make her do that!

I watched as the scared girl stepped slowly to him, being prodded by Pauline. “No, you can’t do that!” I blurted out, but whether I was speaking to Paul, Pauline or Billie-Jo I didn’t know, but I had to say something.

Pauline looked at me as if bored, “You don’t understand Spare, this is a part of her training, when her master orders something then she will have to obey him.” she said.

All Paul did was to look at me and shake his head slightly as if telling me not to interfere with him. Billie-Jo also looked at me, “I have to Alice . . . Pauline said I’d be punished if I didn’t,” Then she gave a small smile, “And it’s not as if it doesn’t taste nice!” And then she went down onto her knees and, using her hands – how could she touch it – she guided Paul’s penis into her mouth.

“Remember what I told you upstairs Billie-Jo; lick along the underside and over the small hole at the top of the cock.” Paul told her, I wanted to rush forward and stop him but, for some reason, I couldn’t.

No! I did know the reason, it was the look in Billie-Jo’s eyes, she was enjoying doing that disgusting thing to that man, I could see her throat as she swallowed his stuff . . . only he was still moving inside her mouth, and then I realised that he was putting his penis into her throat!

“Stop it; you’re going to kill her!” I screamed out.

“No he isn’t! Master knows what he’s doing.” Pauline countered as she watched me closely.

Then Paul pulled out from Billie-Jo’s mouth. “That’s very good Billie-Jo, I’m sure your next master will appreciate your talent.” Paul said to her and patted her head, as if she was a performing dog.

He then lifted Billie-Jo up and made her stand next to me, “Alice you will look after Billie-Jo, when she’s not having lessons that is . . . can you do that?”

I put my arm protectively around Billie-Jo/s shoulders, feeling her heaving with sobs, “I still don’t think it’s right!” I said.

It was Paul who surprised me, he shook his head and said softly, “No, it isn’t right, but would you want me to leave Billie-Jo alone at the moment.” There was something in his tone that told me to trust him.

“Okay, I’ll do it. I don’t want to, but she needs me.” I said.

Paul patted my shoulder briefly, “Thatagirl, I knew I could depend on you.” He said and then added, “Dinner in one hour, make sure you wash and use the toilet beforehand.” He said and pointed to a clock on the wall.

As he walked away with Pauline I found I was rooted to the spot, nobody had ever said they could depend on me; somehow it made me feel welcomed, a feeling that soon vanished as the click on the basement door told me it had been locked.