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From: "Zebulon" <zebulon@fastmail.ca>
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Subject: {ASSM} Part 9 - Tall, Blond and Bound (NC, FF, Bond)
Date: Sat, 15 Mar 2003 00:10:04 -0500
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Part 9 - Tall, Blond and Bound
This is a work of fiction in 14 parts. It is the fourth
novel set in the same world as "The Training of Jeannie
and Clair," "Blackmailed into Bondage," and "Staci
Davis: Investigative Slave." It is approximately the
same length as the other three novels.
Zebulon
No reference to real persons is intended. It contains strong,
non-traditional sexual imagery and language. If you don't
like this kind of thing, don't read it.
Feedback is welcome. Zebulon@fastmail.ca
All Zebulon's work is posted here:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Zebulon/www/
This story may be reposted anywhere as long as (1) proper
credit is given, (2) I am informed of where it is being posted,
and (3) I am allowed free access to the web site where it is
being posted.
(MF, FF, Bond)
- - - - -
Part 9 - Tall, Blond and Bound
by Zebulon
* * * * *
After the Eagle and Fernando had left, Carla took over.
"All right, enough of this horseshit. You've got a lot to
learn and you're going to learn it fast and you're going to
learn right. Aren't you?"
"Yes, Mistress Carla."
"You're damn right you are." She turned back to the
bound girl. "So what are we going to call you? Kimberly
or Barbara? Kim or Babs?" She received no answer other
than a sullen stare. Of course, with the gag she didn't
expect one. "What do you think, Lisa?"
Her personal slave shrugged. "I've never cared much for
the name Kimberly, Mistress."
"Andrea?" Carla asked.
"I think Barbara's a nice name, Mistress Carla."
"All right, bitch," Carla said, "Babs it is." She reached
over and felt the bound girl's breast. Barbara lay still and
took it.
"Humph," Carla said, half to herself. "Andrea. Suppose
you wanted to tie this little slut's ankles together. How
would you do it?"
"I'd untie one of her ankles, retie it with a rope, and then
bind it to her other ankle."
"Wrong!" She shot out a quick hand and slapped
Andrea across the face.
Andrea was shocked. It wasn't a brutal slap, but it
stung.
"Welcome, to the Mistress Carla school of higher
education. You'll learn double quick if you don't want a
whole lot more of those. Lesson number one. You never,
never, ever take unnecessary chances. You never untie a
limb unless you've already got it retied in advance." Andrea
looked confused. "Here watch this," Carla added. She
untied one of Barbara's ankles. Barbara just lay there
unmoving. "This is one smart cunt," Carla said to Lisa and
Andrea. "She knows she can't get away with only one leg,
so she's playing possum in the hope we get stupid. If she
smells a real chance to break away, then she'll suddenly turn
into a hellcat. Right, bitch?"
Barbara didn't answer. Carla gave her a vicious slap
across the tit. "Right, bitch?"
Barbara shrieked something incomprehensible into her
gag and jerked her head around. It wasn't clear whether it
was a yes or a no, but Carla didn't care. So long as the
slaved answered.
"Right." Carla continued. "So we let one leg free and
we get careless. What happens? The little slut waits her
opportunity and kicks us in the head. One leg may not seem
like a lot, but watch this." She moved her head next to
Barbara's leg almost daring her to try to kick her. Barbara
stayed motionless. "So you don't want to play, huh?" Carla
moved over to the workbench and returned with a long
needle and a couple of little clamps. She moved in quickly
and attached a clamp to one of Barbara's large vaginal lips.
The pain was intense. The leg came up and took a swing at
her tormentor. Carla skipped out of the way without
difficulty. She jabbed the needle into Barbara's bound leg.
She jabbed it again into Barbara's tit. She moved around
the table and attached the second clamp to Barbara's other
nipple.
Barbara was now screeching into her gag and thrashing
about. She was crying uncontrollably. The loose leg was
kicking in all directions. Carla jabbed her a couple more
times. She held a couple of additional camps in front of
Barbara's face. "If she gets your leg tied, I'm going to add
one of these to the clamp that's already on your snatch."
Carla then turned to Andrea. "O.K. so you've untied her
leg and now you've got this to contend with." She picked
up a coil of rope from a hook on the wall and handed it to
Andrea. "Go ahead. Tie her ankle."
Andrea had winced at Barbara's pain. Now she held the
rope and had no idea how to proceed. Barbara was like a
frantic animal with its back up. She tried moving in from
several different angles and the defensive leg was constantly
threatening. She made a quick rush and received a nasty
kick on her arm as her only reward.
Mistress Carla stopped her before she could try again.
"Now, let's be smart. No unnecessary chances." She
reached in quickly and pounded the center of Barbara's
chest, driving the wind out of her. The bound girl seemed
to crumple up on herself. She suddenly couldn't breathe and
her leg lost all its strength. Carla quickly recuffed the loose
leg to the table.
"Now, here's the right way to do it." She took the rope
from Andrea. "First you tie the rope around her ankle like
this. Then you thread the rope under the other bound leg.
Now you can release the first ankle, so. And the bitch can
kick as much as she likes. You simply pull on the rope and
the ankles come together. You just wrap the rope around
the ankles like this to tie them together." Andrea was
nodding. "Now, how would you put the leg back?" Carla
asked.
Andrea started to move toward the rope and froze.
Instead she found another length of rope and tied Barbara's
ankle above the first rope.
Carla nodded with some approval. "Good." She gave
Andrea a complex set of instructions about how she wanted
Barbara retrussed. Andrea nodded. Barbara's eyes, already
teary from the pain, went wide at the description. Her final
admonition to Andrea was, "Remember, take no chances.
This little cunt is smart. She'll act passive and wait to jump
on the first opportunity you give her." She looked
thoughtfully down at the bound girl. "Of course, if she were
really smart," Carla said half to herself, "she would have
anticipated my intentions and put up a good token struggle
right away."
* * * * *
Meanwhile, back at the coffee shop, the Eagle was
telling Fernando about his plans for the future. He would
let Mistress Carla finish training Andrea. He was going to
keep her for a while before arranging her sale. Having her
around made the idea of an extended vacation much more
enjoyable. He had decided to change location, though. A
safe house in a different resort area--somewhere far away.
Andrea would be ready to accompany him in public soon,
and he wanted to take her out without the risk of running
into someone who knew her. They were still searching for
her in this neck of the woods. Someone had even put up
wanted posters all over town.
Then Fernando offered something, seemingly out of the
blue. "You've never gotten over Candy, have you?"
Candy? Vincent looked up with a blank expression.
"Who . . . I mean, what the hell has Candy got to do with
anything?"
"Are you kiddin', man. Andrea's a dead ringer for
Candy. Hell, half the girls I've ever seen you with looked
like her."
And something clicked. Candy! They'd been freshmen
in High School when they met. She was the first tall blond
in his life. A couple of inches taller than he. In fact, the last
time he saw Candy, she'd been almost exactly Andrea's size
and shape. No wonder Andrea had looked so familiar.
He hadn't thought about her in years. Then again,
perhaps he'd thought of little else.
Candy had dropped him like a hot rock once her zits
dried up and her popularity rose. By the time they were
seniors, Candy was a cool elegant prom queen who
wouldn't give him the time of day. Vince the Eagle had
never really forgotten her. Nor had he ever forgiven her
either.
He remembered the vision of her at the prom, with her
lavish prom dress, and rich boyfriend. He thought again of
Andrea and every other tall blond he'd ever captured and
trained. It didn't matter what they felt when he first got
them. Anger, fear, hatred. They always ended up
submissive and trusting and oh so eager to please. He now
realized why he enjoyed his work for the Mart so much.
Why he preferred tall, blond women. Candy represented an
open wound in his life that had never properly healed. He'd
have to look her up someday.
Over the next week, Andrea's training under Carla's
strict tutelage progressed. But the vision of Candy's face
kept haunting Vince's thoughts. One evening when he was
making love to Andrea he realized that he was fantasizing
about Candy.
This was absolutely stupid. There was no point in letting
himself remain hostage to his old memories for the rest of
his life. And he certainly wasn't busy with other things at
the moment. He would never have a better chance to get
her out of his system.
Vince made some inquires through the Mart. Three days
later he had answers. He talked to Carla about Andrea.
Would she take her on, finish her training, and split the
commission? It was a far better monetary deal than the fee
she would be paid for her time. She accepted.
Two days later, Lisa was back in her chauffeur's garb
and pulling the limo out of the garage. She brought it
around to the front of the house. There was a tearful
goodbye with Andrea. She had known that a slave was
property and could be sold or given away by her Master.
But she had thought that if she did a good enough job
pleasing him, he would keep her. Instead she was about to
climb into a strange car and drive out of his life forever.
She was blubbering as he gave her a final embrace and
told her to be sure to mind Mistress Carla well. She
promised through her tears that she would. Then she and
Lisa packed the trunk with some modest luggage and the
drugged and bound Barbara. As they worked, Vince said
his goodbyes to Carla. Soon after the limo pulled away.
Vince watched it disappear and wondered vaguely if this
were really a smart move. As he stood there, a strange
mixture of emotions played through him. The mood didn't
last. He walked back into the house and called a taxi. All
other arrangements had been made. His ticket was waiting
for him at the airport. The cleaning crew would come to
reset the safe house that afternoon. His bag was packed.
* * * * *
Time passed. Sheryl's training was almost complete.
Tina was on the phone trying to find another tall blond for
Hector. She could always arrange for a recruitment
contract or she could take her chances at an auction. But
her life would be much simpler if she could find an
appropriate girl through the barter market.
A recruitment contract involved a certain loss of control
that came from trusting another to do your choosing. In
this case, Hector was so particular about what he wanted
and the new recruit had to match Sheryl when they stood
together. Auctions were more fun and usually brought
higher prices. For that reason they were more popular with
sellers than with buyers. But even sellers could find the
auction process difficult and time consuming. And the
buyer, of course, had to select from whatever happened to
be on the block or try again later.
For these and other reasons, the barter market was
becoming increasingly popular. Sellers simply posted a
description and waited for buyers to contact them. Buyers
had an extremely wide selection of choices and often at very
reasonable prices. And through the barter market, you
could swap slaves as well as buy or sell. That meant much
lower commission fees.
Modern computers and some brilliant new software had
made this arrangement possible. Tina had set her search
program to look for tall blonds with certain distinguishing
features and was surprised at the number of files it pulled
up. She spent the better part of a day working her way
through the various offerings, carefully reading each
description and studying the computer pictures. The quality
of the graphics was only fair, but it gave her a reasonable
idea. She narrowed the field to a half dozen girls and sent
for full dossiers. They arrived by special courier over the
next few days. She reduced the field to three and decided
the one in Florida would be ideal if she were still available
and a suitable exchange could be negotiated.
Now came the tough part of working through the barter
mart. Tina wasn't looking forward to it. She got herself
comfortable and dialed. The Florida offering was still open.
But the owner wanted a short, busty girl with light brown
hair and a certain amount of cash in trade. Did she have
anyone in particular in mind? Yes, she'd been negotiating
with a seller in Spain, but he in turn was holding out for an
aristocratic, fair skinned redhead.
Tina dialed the Spaniard. He had picked up the girl, a
foreign exchange student, almost as an accident. He was
willing to trade and toss in a good deal of cash. And yes, he
had been interested in a redhead, but had changed his mind.
He had just spent the weekend with his friend, a French
Duke. That worthy owned a long-haired black girl with a
magnificent ass. The sex had been tremendous. He tried to
buy her from the Duke, but she wasn't for sale. Now he
wanted a girl just like her. Tina finished the conversation,
hung up, and sighed. She sent out for something to relieve
stress.
It took Tina almost half a day to set up a four part
exchange which left everyone happy. She talked with over
two dozen buyers and sellers, eventually coming back to the
two she had started with. She would get Andrea, the tall
blond from Florida. Andrea's owner would get her busty
brownette and cash from the man in Spain. The man in
Spain would get a stunning black girl, originally from
Kenya, who was just finishing her training at Mistress
Oleander's S&M Academy in Lima. And Mistress Oleander
would get a dom-submissive pair from Tina.
Thank God for Oleander. The woman was a gem.
Money was not the critical thing with her. The challenge of
the training project was. The woman was an artist. The
background of Marcie and Juanita fascinated her. And
thank God for Master Quinn who had suggested that Tina
give her a call.
Tina looked down at the top of the gently undulating
head at her crotch. She'd finished her last call with her legs
spread for the girl who was providing stress relief. It was
wonderfully soothing, the slow, insistent tonguing that had
continued, on and off, for over an hour. Much better than a
back rub. When she felt like more, she would simply kick
the girl into action. When she wanted her to stop, she
would kick her again. She reached down and grabbed a
handful of hair. Then she scooted her chair back and pulled
up the slime covered face. There were still a few subtle
signs of resistance, but she was doing much better now that
she was finally broken. "You hear that, little one? Your
Mistress is headed for Peru."
"Yes, Mistress Tina."
"Do you like the idea of going to Peru, Juanita?"
"Yes, Mistress. I've always wanted to see Peru."
"Well, I'm sure Mistress Marcie will like it too. All right,
little girl, go ahead and finish me up."
"Yes Mistress."
Tina sat back to enjoy herself while the bobbing head
went back to work more seriously on her clit. It was
delicious. Almost as delectable as the memory of that first
encounter once Marcie had recovered enough to begin
training Juanita.
* * * * *
It had taken five weeks for the physical wounds to heel.
Tina was concerned that the psychological damage might
never be undone. She'd contacted Mart central for advice
and been referred to a couple of experienced trainers who
offered suggestions. The trouble was the advice conflicted
and neither sounded convincing. A old friend, who was
currently based in Jordan, told her she had to track down a
Master Latimer. He was a genius who would almost
certainly have something useful to suggest. Tina tried to
find him, but he seemed to have disappeared off the face of
the planet. Her inquires did eventually result in a return call
from a Master Quinn who turned out to be the real genius.
His advice made sense. Give her some tools; give her an
attitude--if she didn't already have one; give her a chance;
and let the chips fall where they may.
Marcie had been exercising as well as recuperating. She
was actually in better physical shape then when she had
been abducted. So Tina had one of the guards give her
some hand-to-hand combat training and let her practice for
a couple of days. When the guard thought she was ready,
Tina had Michelle dress her in the garb of a full Dominatrix
and bring her to the east veranda for a chat. Tina hadn't
seen Marcie since that first morning after her arrival. She
inspected Michelle's handiwork and was quite pleased.
Except for the scar near the corner of her eye, there didn't
seem to be any damage at all. Over tea, Tina made it very
clear that Marcie's old life was over and that she now had
three options--slave, corpse, or mistress. Marcie wasn't
sure what that meant, but accepted the statement in silence.
Tina let the silence build for a long time and then asked,
almost as an aside, about her first night with Juanita.
Marcie told her. Haltingly at first and then with increasing
anger. When Tina felt she had reached the right pitch of
fury, she signaled for Michelle who conducted Marcie back
through the basement labyrinth of rooms where she had
spent her first night. The memories came crashing back
with tremendous force and Marcie found herself trembling
with emotion. She wasn't sure if it were fear or anger or
both.
They came to an imposing door.
* * * * *
- - - - -
-End of Part 9 - Tall, Blond and Bound - Zebulon -
This story may be reposted anywhere as long as (1) proper
credit is given, (2) I am informed of where it is being posted,
and (3) I am allowed free access to the web site where it is
being posted.
_________________________________________________________________
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