Chapter 2: Moving Day

“What in the hell are you doing?”

My roommate, Ellen, stands in the doorway to my room. Early morning rays of the sun fall on a pile of clothes on the floor. I fling my one expensive evening dress on top of it. Ellen watches, aghast. A pair of pants and several shirts quickly follow, crushing the delicate lines of the dress.

“Kirsten, stop!” Ellen crouches and plucks the dress away before I can add anything more to the growing mountain. “What’s gotten into you? Your clothes are precious to you. You shouldn’t treat them like this.”

“They’re yours if you want,” I say. “I won’t need them where I’m going.”

“Where you’re ...? Kirsten, what’re you talking about?”

“A new world has accepted me.” I wave my arm over the vestments of my former life. “All this will just be in the way.”

“You’re acting like you’re going to a convent.”

I give a short laugh as another shirt goes on the pile. “Hardly. I met a man.”

“A man? You haven’t dated in months.”

“Oh, I’ve gone out.”

“Yes. Alone. And you don’t come back until dawn. And more often, too.”

“I’m a night owl. You know that.”

“Then what is it? Love at first sight?”

“I doubt it.” I turn a drawer upside down in search of one last article.

“You just can’t leave like this! I can’t afford this place alone.”

“I’ve thought about that. There’s a month’s rent in an envelope taped to the fridge. That should give you enough time to find a new roommate. Sell my furniture if you need to.”

The doorbell rings. I’m expecting it but Ellen’s confusion is only compounded.

The doorbell rings again. “Look, tell whoever is out there I’ll just be a few minutes. Go on. Go!”

Ellen flies away at my command. A male voice asking for me indicates the chauffeur has arrived.

I find what I’m looking for—two lacy white bras. I ball them up and tuck them away in my small athletic bag. I’ve also packed a couple of white, button down collar shirts, three pairs of panties, blue jeans and a toothbrush.

Ellen comes back. “He says he’ll wait by the car. A limousine! Who is this guy you’ve met?”

“You know, I’ve no idea.”

I give Ellen a long, tight goodbye hug. She follows me into the living room. “What about your classes,” she says. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right? Right?”

I don’t answer. I give a quick look around to make sure I haven’t forgotten any tiny, but essential thing. I’m confronted by Ellen’s shocked face.

“You’re dropping out, too? But, you’re so close to graduation! At least finish.”

“I don’t need to. Not now.” I toss Ellen the keys to my small Chevy. Her jaw drops. “You don’t have a car. Take mine. The title is in the envelope.”

Ellen is rooted to the spot. I race out to the curb. The rear door of the limo is already open. The inside is dark, not revealing any details of what is in store for me. Will I be bound and gagged on my way there? But no sinister agents are inside. I sit in the center of the plush back seat and in seconds we glide away, past all the identical apartments and condos. We round a corner and, on the sidewalk back down the block, I catch the last sight of my friend Ellen.

***

My old life is left behind. A brief thought of leaving everything familiar is quashed by my anticipation of what awaits me at the end of the ride. I’ve desired so long to be in this spot, this moment, that any memory of how I lived before is an annoyance.

Since my first visit to Red Silk I heard rumors about people like Mr. Rose. People like him who effectively own other people; deciding what they wear, or not, what they eat, where they sleep.

I never brought up the subject with Red Silk; to do so I instinctively knew would kill any chance I might have of entering this world. So I went to her place whenever she called or when I could no longer contain my heat. Occasionally, I’d overhear a word or two from the attendants about a slave who just got shipped out for an extended stay at a master’s private sanctuary. Never did I ask for any details but I soaked up every drop of information. Later, I would dissect it in my mind, try to determine the key to that person’s being taken away. Distilled down to its essence, I’d incorporate it into my psyche and take that one step closer to my goal. Yesterday, it finally all came together.

A mist envelopes the limo. When it clears, the drab buildings of the city are replaced by vivid green trees; brilliant flowerbeds of red, yellow, and purple; and beautiful homes. Mile after mile goes by and the color of the passing scenes only intensify. We ascend a gently winding road, then we go through a tall, wooden gate. A rolling green lawn flanks the gravel lane that leads up a small rise to a beautiful Georgian style house.

Mr. Palmer and a young woman dressed in a light blue blazer with a long, flowing white skirt and dark boots are standing on the top portico step. A large, well-dressed man awaits at the bottom of the steps.

The driver opens my door and I slide out. Blinking in the bright sunshine, flanked by the driver and the large man, I wait as the young woman descends the steps, her spiked heels clicking. Mr. Palmer follows in a leisurely fashion.

The woman approaches with a wide smile. She possesses an air of eagerness and energy, of new found authority.

“So here is the new slave Mr. Rose has found,” she says. “I’m going to enjoy training her from the ground up. Pretty little thing.” She spots my bag and I automatically hand it over. She goes through it and laughs. “Clothes? You won’t need these here. Any other surprises? No? Good.” She closes the bag but doesn’t give it back to me.

“Mr. Rose wants her out for display with the others later today,” Mr. Palmer says. “Do what you need to do to make her ready.”

“Yes, sir,” the woman responds.

“Very good. Carry on.” Mr. Palmer turns on his heel, going quickly back up the steps.

The woman looks me over, like a child who can’t wait to unwrap a present, but must wait anyway. “Raymond, take her to a private shower, then bring her down to her cell. Paul, get the uniforms ready.”

“Yes, Ms. Lynn,” both men reply. Paul returns to the car and it silently glides way. Raymond, the big man, takes me by the arm and half carries me up the steps.

The house is magnificent inside, but I have little chance to experience it. We turn this way and that, and Raymond pushes me into a small bathroom. He strips me; impersonal, efficient, and into the shower I go.

Cold water hits my skin and I yelp. Raymond adjusts the knobs and steam begins to cloud the clear glass, then he undresses as well and joins me in the stall. He sets right to work, cleaning every last pore on my body and shampooing my hair. Is this where I’m first going to be used in my new life? I squint through the shampoo that runs down in my eyes. Raymond’s cock is erect but he makes no move to use it, even when he lathers and rinses my pussy. The stiff streams from the hand held nozzle is my only satisfaction. A large, heavy towel wrapped around me absorbs the wetness while several passes with a blow dryer takes care of my hair. Raymond takes away my towel and, wrapped in his own, guides me back the same way we came. Under the stairs that go up to the second floor, he opens what seemed like a closet door and takes me down a steep flight of creaking stairs.

Fluorescent lights illuminate a long hallway that stretches to the left and right. We turn right, passing several sturdy, wooden doors bound in iron. Pairs of eyes peer out from small, open observation panels. I’m startled when one occupant pounds on her door, begging to be let out. Raymond ignores it and guides me on to the last cell on the right, leaving me alone with Ms. Lynn.

She circles me, feeling my legs and arms, squeezing my ass and breasts. Her sharp nails pinch my nipples and I gasp. “Some good raw material here,” she says. “I’m going to love molding you. Of course, it might take a month or more.”

Paul brings in my “uniform” and in short order they have me booted, bound and gagged. I balance precariously on a pair of shiny, four-inch heels, the tops of the boots just below my knees. Wrapped around my torso and arms is a black, silver studded body harness, its crotch strap cinched tight against me. Another harness with a red ballgag encircles my head and ensures my silence. Slim leather cuffs lock my wrists behind me. Ms. Lynn adds the final touches herself; a wide posture collar forces my chin up and prevents me from swiveling my head. She clips a leash to the front collar ring and tugs for me to follow.

My inner fire, all day just below the surface, threatens to overcome me. An act of will keeps it at bay—barely. The constraint of my bonds and the smell of leather allow me no respite. When I move, the crotch strap rubs against my pussy lips, bringing me closer to the edge of orgasm. Each whiff of the leather threatens to push me over the edge.

As we traverse the hallway, the disembodied eyes in the cells watch us, or more accurately, Ms. Lynn. One pair, the ones that belong to the woman who pounded at her cell door, narrow and I hear a growl, like a wolf before its kill. At the far end of the hallway there is another set of stairs going up. Ms. Lynn ties my leash to a wall hook well above my head, then with Paul right behind her, she enters the growler’s cell.

A few moments later they bring out a classic Nordic blonde. Like me she wears the boots and body harness, but there the similarities end. Her gag is a huge leather muzzle, its four straps buckled in back of her head. I can tell by the way she walks she has cunt and ass dildos planted deep inside her. Her crotch strap is pulled a lot tighter than mine so her pussy lips bulge over the sides. Not only are wrist cuffs slapped on her, but a larger pair around her upper arms, too. Her elbows are forced together in back, thus to make her full breasts stand out even more. A leather collar, not one for posture like mine, but still very wide, is locked around her neck.

“Debra, get acquainted with the master’s new property. And don’t forget; things have changed since you fucked up. I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere now. I like my new job, and I’m not going to let any conniving bitch take it away from me. Not even you.” Ms. Lynn casually slaps the blonde on the ass and she and her assistant head into another cell. I sense a growing anger in Debra who wears the look of one betrayed. For her part, Ms. Lynn never looks in Debra’s direction again once she is placed in line next to me.

Raymond returns, now dressed in grey pants and a grey, light coat and, one by one, the other slaves are attired in harness and gags. One by one we are lined up and leashed together in coffle. Ms. Lynn supervises the whole procedure, tightening a strap here and there.

I am the last in line. Ms. Lynn leads us up the second flight of stairs, through a large, well-stocked toy room then outside to a narrow, flagstone path. The sun warms my back and, unlike the slaves in front of me, whose heads don’t turn, I try to take in my new environment.

Well trimmed, waist high hedges with small white flowers line the path. Tall eucalyptus trees loom behind us, the grove extending off into an unknown depth. From their high branches several exotic birds call. In the posture collar I can only see them when I twist my whole torso. Raymond catches my action.

“Eyes front!” he says, punctuating the command with a wide strap across my ass. I jump at the rebuke and quickly square my shoulders.

At the front of the big house Ms. Lynn arranges two slaves on every other step, tapering up to the two inner columns at the edge of the portico. I am on the bottom step, as apparently befits my low status. Debra snorts when she is placed opposite me but a vicious, well placed slap on a breast from Ms. Lynn stops any further tantrums.

Mr. Palmer comes out of the house and takes up position as when I arrived. Ms. Lynn joins him, slightly behind and to the right of him. “Excellent,” he says to Ms. Lynn.

We don’t wait long before a white limo glides up to the steps. Paul is immediately on hand to open the back door, then he and Raymond hustle back to the automatically opening trunk.

Two men step from the limo. The first one is dressed in a dark blue business suit and is no more than thirty. The other is a trifle older with shining blue eyes. He carries a thin briefcase and is clearly deferential to the first man. Since I’m nearest the man in the blue suit, his grey eyes alight on me first, but then he sees Debra. His eyebrows shoot up in an expression of delight.

Mr. Palmer meets him at the bottom of the steps. “Mr. Lange, how good of you to visit us again. Mr. Rose sends his compliments and asks that you join him in the atrium.”

“He wants to get right down to business, doesn’t he? Good. By the way, I notice you’ve added to your stock,” Mr. Lange says, nodding back at me.

“A new acquisition, as yet untrained. Still, it is at your command, as are any of the others.”

Mr. Lange steps closer to me. “I’m always intrigued by the newest thing. Has Ed tried her out yet?”

Mr. Palmer seems to stiffen. “Mr. Rose has not. At least, not privately. It just arrived today.”

“What about this one?” Mr. Lange motions to Debra.

“Hardly new to the estate, sir. But new to her position.”

The young man smiles. “This ought to make for an interesting visit. I’ve been wanting her a long time. Philip, make a note to have my red flogger handy tonight.” The man behind Mr. Lange pulls out a small computer pad and makes a note, then trails behind as Mr. Lange and Mr. Palmer climb the steps.

Ms. Lynn orders the slaves lined up, but comes down to pull me away from the others. “Oh, no, don’t take this one back yet. Mr. Rose wants to see it first.”

I catch a searing glare from Debra but I don’t have time to think anymore about her attitude. Ms. Lynn quickly leads me up the steps and, with my high heels and bound arms, I must concentrate on keeping my balance. A sudden commotion from below causes us to look back. Debra has planted her feet like a stubborn mule. The coffle is forced to stop. Paul doesn’t use the paddle on her, but instead whispers something in Debra’s ear. Immediately she breaks down in tears. Paul gives a gentle tug on her leash and she falls in step with the others.

This time I get a better look at the house. Well, at least the foyer and living room beyond the hallway intersection that leads to both wings. The light blue marble floor makes even my slightest step echo up to the twenty-foot high ceiling. Eight-foot windows let plenty of late afternoon sun into the living room, bathing the plush furnishings in its warm rays. I am taken by the grand, idyllic beauty and, without realizing it, drift toward the living room. Abruptly, Ms. Lynn tugs my leash and I am reminded of my limited range.

Voices approach from down the hallway. I recognize one as Mr. Lange, but the other is rich, vibrant, with a natural edge of command. It roots me to the spot and the heat between my legs increases even more.

“She knew exactly what she was doing. The decision has been made.”

“No last minute regrets?” Mr. Lange asks.

“I regret the whole situation but I’ll not have my authority challenged. The matter is disposed.”

The men emerge from the hallway shadows side by side. They’re not quite in to the living room when Mr. Lange spots me. “I like the new arrival.”

The other man sees me, a depressed brow abruptly smoothed by cheer. Yet, his rich, perfectly combed dark hair and chiseled face can’t hide a remote sadness in his young, dark brown eyes. I can’t help but wonder if he feels this way all the time, or if he recently received some bad news. My heat rises under his frank gaze; my new master assessing his new property.

He softly strokes my hair. “She is a beauty, isn’t she? I hope you don’t mind, but with her I’m going to invoke master’s privilege.”

“I’ve someone else in mind for tonight anyway. The other new slave.”

“Debra? She’ll give you nothing but attitude.”

“I’ll break her of it for you. Rather fitting isn’t it, after all? Besides, she might as well be put to use. Just a slave now like any other, right?”

Mr. Rose gives his guest a sidelong look. “Of course. Mr. Palmer, see that Debra is brought to Carter’s room.” He turns back to me. “Ms. Lynn, let this one rest for the day. I’m sure she needs to catch her breath.”

“That’s very generous of you, sir,” Ms. Lynn says.

“I’ve just ordered Debra to be given away for the night. I’m in a generous mood.”