JUST WHO IS THE SEX SLAVE NOW?
Emma Jefferies stood at the rather imposing front door, and breathing heavily to herself, pressed the doorbell, the sound of which she could quite clearly hear, through the solid wooden door itself. For young Emma, her nineteenth birthday fast approaching, was not here by her own volition, as she heard the sound of approaching footsteps on the inside, she knew they belonged to her ‘client.’ Yes, Emma was a hooker, a whore, or a prostitute if that term sounds a little less ‘crude,’ and more professional.
However, before we condemn her too much, Ladies and Gentlemen, it was a life and ‘career choice’ she had been forced into, rather than one she’d made for herself. Her recently deceased mother, Janice Jefferies, had been a total heroin addict, falling in with a crowd of men who’d simply used and abused her, now turning their attentions to the young daughter instead. With no escape seeming possible for her, they effectively controlled and owned her now, particularly her vicious pimp, son of the man who was the ‘gaffer’ here and had ‘befriended’ the hapless Janice originally, Stephen Brookes. He, very much, ran her life, controlling her ‘cash flow,’ essentially now, she couldn’t even breathe without his say so. And this appointment had been arranged by him, a new client whom he had never dealt with before, but one who ticked all the correct boxes, including providing a large ‘deposit’ for Emma’s ‘services.’
The door opened and a gruff voice sounded loudly, “INSIDE! NOW!” As Emma nervously stepped across the threshold the door slammed shut behind her, seeming to signify that she was trapped within. But the man’s demeanour changed immediately. In a much softer tone, he now addressed the young girl gently, “sorry about that, I had to make it look convincing, just in case somebody was watching you, making sure that you didn’t chicken out. But don’t worry, now you haven’t got to have sex with me, or anybody else for that matter. We’re here to deliver you from this terrible life you’ve been subjected to. Go through that door there, Darling, and inside you’ll meet the lady who’ll explain everything to you.” The door to the living room, where I waited patiently for her.
Emma Jefferies appeared more or less just what I’d expected her to look like when I saw her for that very first occasion. Like the real slut that she’d been forced to be in life. All of the clothing that she was currently adorned in was cheap and nasty, imitations of quality gear, which if it had been of the required standard would have been quite seductive and sexy, but clearly was so poorly made that it was anything but. Her short skirt, for example, was manufactured out of cheap plastic, with the idea of making it look like real leather, but it fooled nobody. And the nylon stockings upon her legs had clearly been purchased inexpensively from the local supermarket, the very last manner in which one would describe them as being ‘sexy.’ In a way, here in front of me now, was the very opposite of the expression, ‘mutton dressed as lamb,’ usually referring to an rich, ugly woman dressed in really classy gear, here was a girl possessing a fair degree of natural beauty, dressed in what appeared to be ‘rags,’ although years of bad nourishment and cruelty did diminish said beauty somewhat. My heart leapt in sympathy to see just what she’d been reduced to. As I resolved there and then that Stephen Brookes, whom my research had clearly identified as responsible for all this, was going to pay.
But first she needed to be calmed, confusion was clearly written all over her face. Putting on my best welcoming smile, I opened my body in a truly embracing cuddle shape, stating in a friendly manner, “welcome Emma, Darling. I am your second cousin, Gemma Blackstone!” Taking her trembling form into a warm cuddle, whereupon she lost control of her emotions completely, starting to cry her eyes out, almost inducing me to do the very same!
Obviously, it had been a bit too much for her to take in, but there was no rush here, and I allowed her all the time that she needed to unburden herself, before I began to explain matters to her. Like the fact she’d just ‘acquired’ a long-lost second cousin, and in truth I hadn’t known of her own existence myself, until a few months ago.
When she had settled down enough, I removed an old photograph from my jacket pocket, one older than her, and predating myself to be honest. It showed two teenage girls, one of whom was a young version of her mother, Janice. Emma recognised her straightaway.
“And the other woman is her cousin, Sylvia, my mother.”
“I didn’t even know that mum had any cousins.”
“I don’t suppose that you did, Emma. I only found out myself recently, when your mum died. Mother got to hear of it and made some ‘off the cuff’ remark. Which was the first time I’d ever known of her, and your existence. You see when Janice, your mum, went ‘off the rails’ all those years ago, mother denied all knowledge of her until then, when I almost forced it out of her. Including your birth. You see how alike they could think, our names are almost identical, yours being Emma, and mine Gemma. And ok, if Janice did make mistakes with her life, that’s no reason to cut her off completely, as mother did, and you are perfectly innocent with regard to those wrong choices of hers. There’s no way that you deserve to be a sex slave, belonging to the Brookes family, and I’m here to take you away from that and to look after you now.”
“Thank you SO much, you can’t believe how much I’ve dreamed of getting away from them. I promise that I won’t be a burden to you, I will work for my living.”
“I’m sure you will, but not in the same manner as the Brookes’s forced you to work for them. And all in good time, first thing we’ve got to do is get you away from them and from here. I take it that Stephen Brookes wasn’t above sexually abusing you himself on occasion?”
She started to cry again, no doubt my question had triggered some unpleasant memories, which soon became clear when she was capable of coherent speech again. “Yes, he forced me to have sex with him many times. Never caring whether I wanted to, or if I enjoyed it at all.”
“Well, now he’s going to pay for that. If he kept you as HIS sex slave, now he’s going to be MINE. Even if it’s not actually me he’s in bed with. BILL,” not his real name of course, the one we’d used when making all the ‘arrangements’ with Stephen Brookes, “give Brookes a ring. Tell him you really enjoyed yourself with Emma here, and you want to do so again. See if you can get him to come around here right now and alone, to discuss ‘extending her contract.’ Hopefully he will.”
“Sure things, Gems.” We could hear him on the ’phone to Brookes, and although I couldn’t make out all the details of their conversation, it did seem to be favourable to our aims. Which ‘Bill’ confirmed as soon as he came off the ’phone. “Good news, Gems, he’s coming here right now, he bought it all. Alone, and I rather get the impression he won’t have told anybody about where he’s going. He actually left while he was still talking to me on the ’phone.” PERFECT!
I removed several items from my haversack, ready for his arrival. Several sets of steel handcuffs, a ball gag, and a bag to fit over his head, one which still allow its bearer to breathe safely, if they couldn’t see anything. Last but definitely not least, a TASER gun.
We were fully ready for him when roughly fifteen minutes later he knocked upon the front door, Emma having been sent upstairs and out of harm’s way. ‘Bill,’ who incidentally had the real name of Martin Byrne, opened the door, inviting him in, which he did so quickly enabling the door to be closed immediately shutting out any ‘prying eyes.’ Which would have been presented with plenty to view, as soon as the door was shut, I emerged with the TASER, wasting no time at all in using it. I hadn’t used such a setting as to knock him out completely, but he had no chance of fighting back, as between us ‘Bill’ and I, handcuffed his arms behind his back, fitted the ball gag within his month, and placed that bag over his head. Supporting him, we now guided his figure into the garage, which was directly connected to the house itself, meaning we couldn’t be observed, plonking him into the boot of our waiting car employing the other cuff sets available to us to place him within a full hogtie. Using some padding to ensure he wouldn’t be hurt in the forthcoming journey. Collecting Emma and being careful to remove all traces of our occupation, we then set off.
Incidentally, the house was a registered Airbnb, which of course, we had booked under ‘Bill’s’ false name, making doubly sure that the invoice for our stay had been fully paid. In advance and in cash. Other precautions that we took was that the car we used had a set of ‘cloned’ number plates, the original ones would be replaced when we returned home, where specifically placed stickers, a ‘U.K.’ one, a selling car dealership strip in the back window, as well as a few others would also dis-appear, together with the alloy wheels, the original black steel ones, with a completely different tyre tread pattern being put back on. Making it VERY difficult, if not impossible to trace us, remember we had, quite illegally, kidnapped somebody here.
When we arrived in our home village, some considerable distance from the city, we met up with members of my family company, an organisation quite capable of operating outside of what the law deeded acceptable, although NEVER indulging in such immoral practices such as prostitution. We arrived at the home of the ‘lady’ who would be looking after Mr Brookes, now knocking him out completely before removing him from the vehicle. With me issuing some instruction as to just what was going to happen to him, we departed home. Where young Emma and I disembarked, allowing the vehicle to be driven off, hidden and then restored to its ‘original specification.’
Thankfully young Emma was extremely tired by now, incidentally so was I, so after finding her some night-clothes to wear, remember all she possessed in the clothing department was the poor-quality gear she was wearing now, she settled down to sleep in the spare room. As I did in my own bedroom.
Come the morning, I instructed the housekeeper to look after Emma, as I had to pop out for a bit. Thankfully she had awoken so I was able to inform her that I would be absent for a period of time. I was time to check on the progress of my ‘guest.’
Reporting to his ‘quarters’ I was pleased to see that all my relevant instructions issued last night had been performed, and with a perfect sense of timing, he was just coming round from the effect of the drug he’d been administered with when I arrived. To find himself spread out and handcuffed to the corner posts of a large bed. Having been completely stripped naked, although, as per my orders, that wasn’t the state that he’d been left in.
Stephen Brookes almost ‘spluttered’ awake as he came to, instantly trying to shake his body as much as his bonds would allow, as it dawned upon him that he was, indeed, subject to such a condition. “What the hell is this? And just what have you put upon my legs?” As they had been placed within female lingerie, namely stockings and suspenders. And not just the cheap rubbish that he’d forced Emma to wear, no, these items had adorned my own legs up until last night!
“Good morning, Mr Brookes. I trust that you slept well?”
“Are you stupid as well as deaf, bitch? I asked you what the hell is going on? Just imagine the things I’m going to do to you once my dad’s boys catch up with you!”
I, quite deliberately as you all imagine, literally laughed in his face. “Oh, really? And how likely is that, then? The way I see it, you are now here, not that you, or him for that matter, have any idea as to where ‘here’ is by the way, chained to this bed, whereas I am totally free to move.” I ‘danced’ about a little as if to emphasise the point. “It’s YOU in my hands here, not ME in yours!”
“Yeah, well you’d better unchain me right now, bitch!” Rattling himself against the cuffs binding him. “I’m going to really enjoy it when our lads get hold of you!”
It was time to ‘ditch’ the false politeness. I sat myself down on the bed, taking hold of his, impressive I must admit, cock in my hands, and looked him straight into his eyes. “I’d shut up with the threats if I was you, stop kidding yourself that you’re in any position to make any here. This is not about what you going to do to me, rather just what I am going to do to you now! Because I’m going to have some REAL fun now, all of it at your expense! Well, ok, not me personally, do you really believe that I would be willing to touch such a worthless piece of shit with my own pussy? I DO have standards you know!”
Giving his balls a real twist, which obviously sent a spasm of pain throughout his whole body, fully confirmed by the real shout of “aaaagggghhhh,” which emerged from his mouth.”
“There’s PLENTY more of that to come IF you want to play things that way! So, shut your fucking mouth and listen well. You want to know why I’m doing all this? It’s payback, shitface, as simple as that. You’ve treated young Emma so disgustingly, making her your personal sex slave effectively. You asked a question earlier; one I believe that you are actually entitled to an answer to, what is now upon your legs? Something that gives a clue as just what my plans for you are, I believe that these items are known as the, albeit unofficially, ‘clothes of sex.’ Oh, and they’re not the cheap shit that you forced her to wear, oh no matey boy, up until last night these were upon MY legs, and make NO mistake about it, I do not wear cheap and nasty lingerie ever! Point is now sonny boy; YOU ARE GOING TO SHAGGED! Again and again, from now on you don’t live, you just exist, and to be your partner’s complete and utter sex toy. You believed that Emma was your property, for you to use just how you wanted to, well the boot is very much on the other foot.” I grinned at him. “Just who is the sex slave now?”
