Mistress Athy's Slave Catalog

It was all a dream,

thought Adam. It was the only explanation that seemed to fit the facts.

There was no Academy. Monica is safe here with me. None of it really happened.

Adam looked back and forth between Eve and Monica. He concluded he was still dreaming. The evening had had a dreamlike quality from the beginning.

This isn't going to be a good dream,

he thought.

I shouldn't have two mistresses.

Another possibility occurred to Adam. As it did, a dull panic that had lurked in the back of his mind for months jumped to the forefront of his imagination. He looked at Eve and tried to shout a warning, but the loud music combined with the gag in his mouth prevented him from making any audible sound.

Ironically, his inability to scream supported his dream theory.

"I've made an impression on him!" teased Monica.

"I don't know what's gotten into him," said Eve. "He seemed really into it a second ago." Eve looked around the dance floor and asked, "Where's

your

sub?"

"Closer than you think," Monica said, winking at Adam and reaching for her cell phone. "Pardon me while I make a call." She located a number in her phone's contact list and pressed SEND.

"Of course," said Eve. "If she's that close, shouldn't we buh, uh, OHHHHHH . . .!"

Eve abruptly collapsed, letting go of Adam's leash as she fell into a fit of unanticipated passion.

Others on the dance floor looked on—their expressions ranging from disapproval to amusement.

Monica saw Eve's condition and laughed. "I didn't actually know that would work," she admitted, grabbing Adam's leash as Eve squirmed on the floor. "Did Eve ever tell you about the chip in her head? The one that allows me to give her a spontaneous orgasm through the telephone? It's very high-tech—and convenient."

Monica calmly tied the end of Adam's leash securely to a nearby hand rail. Bound by his straitjacket, he could do nothing to untie it. Other than Monica, no one else paid attention to him, only to the moaning woman on the floor.

"Pardon me, slave," said Monica, removing a pair of cuffs from her belt. "The effect is intense, but it won't last long." She knelt over Eve and expertly pulled the gasping woman's arms behind her back and applied the cuffs. Eve made a superficial attempt to resist, but her current state of distraction made all her attempts ineffectual. Monica quickly added a ball gag and a leash to the squirming woman.

"I

said

my sub would be tightly tied," Monica told Eve. "Bet you didn't know my subbie would be

you!

" Monica removed her own belt and wrapped it around Eve's knees.

Eve screamed as she climaxed, still writhing on the floor.

When she was done, Monica bounced to her feet and raised her arms in the air as if expecting people to applaud.

Strangely, some did. Onlookers were baffled but entertained by what they believed to be some kind of performance art.

"Thank you! Thank you!" said Monica, beaming. She leaned over Eve and pulled her roughly to her wobbly feet. Eve stood, sweating and gasping in confusion.

Monica unfastened Adam's leash from the rail. With a leash in each fist, she pulled them both close to her face and said, "Now I trust I have your attention?"

Eve looked at Adam with uncomprehending eyes. Adam was only beginning to understand the nature of the situation but had no power to explain it to her.

"It will all be clear in a moment," Monica assured them. "Now there's someone at the bar who wants to see you."

Monica led the way through the crowd, tugging the pair behind her. Adam had a sinking feeling he knew what to expect. For Eve, what happened next was a horrible surprise.

Sitting at the end of the bar in a short vinyl cocktail dress, the last woman on earth they wanted to see smiled confidently before taking a sip from her drink.

Eve lurched away at the sight of her former mistress. Adam tugged against his leash as well but was abruptly blocked by a tall dominatrix appearing behind him whom he recognized as an Academy guard. Other latex-clad dommes now emerged from the crowd to back her up.

"Well, look at you!" said Helga as she gazed upon them. "Both of you!" She absent-mindedly wiped some moisture from her glass before putting her finger into her mouth. "I think you should know that you have put me through quite a bit of trouble. In fact, I'm quite cross with you." The intensity of her last statement bubbled with understatement.

Helga stood and examined them as if inspecting rented cars for new scratches. She met Adam's gaze. "You took my best Pony," she accused, "

and

my boat!"

She turned to Eve and grabbed her sparkly dress by the neckline. "And this! Is this what you think a Pony wears? You silly thing! Fortunately I have more appropriate attire for you in my suite!"

"And just in time!" added Monica who rudely placed her hand between Eve's legs. "Somehow her outfit got all wet!" Eve looked tearfully at the floor.

Helga turned to Monica. "You've made a good start in restraining them. I'll help you finish the job."

A room service cart loaded with straps and chains was rolled into view. Dominatrices pushed Adam and Eve roughly to their knees as others applied additional bondage implements to the pair. When they were done, both were secured in tight fetal positions, unable to move.

The dommes then hoisted them onto the room service cart, Eve on top, Adam on the shelf below. Head harnesses were applied to them both which were fastened with tight chains to the cart itself. The chains were so tight, Adam couldn't move his head in any direction and could only face forward.

At a sign from Helga, the dominatrix guards disappeared into the crowd. Helga and Monica turned toward the crowd and struck a theatrical pose. "Like so!" declared Helga.

Cheers and catcalls answered them as Helga rolled their captives through the club and out the door, followed by Monica. Adam and Eve protested vigorously but could convince none of the partygoers that they weren't playing a role.

The captives were briskly rolled through the hotel lobby in full view of unsuspecting guests. Adam caught the eye of one of the smartly dressed hotel staffers they had met by the elevator. He shouted a muffled plea for help.

The staffer looked down at him and smiled. "I see you found The Club! Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Oh, yes!" Helga replied for him. "We were a great hit. Thanks for loaning us the cart."

"You're welcome," answered the staffer helpfully.

"Come again soon!" her coworker added. Neither showed any sign of understanding the tied couple's distress, and one still looked jealous, thinking the captives were being escorted to yet another party she couldn't attend.

Inside the elevator, Helga pressed the button for the top floor. The doors closed. Easy listening music played inappropriately.

Monica removed scissors from a tray on the side of the cart and unceremoniously removed Eve's ruined panties. "So, Adam, this is the bitch you abandoned me for?" It wasn't a question; no response was expected or permitted.

What did Helga tell her

? wondered Adam.

Monica shook Eve's panties in her fist. "You know, I thought you'd be prettier," Monica told Eve, setting the scissors back in the tray and removing a riding crop. "I thought, if he's going to abandon me to run off with a different mistress, she'd better be

awfully GODDAMNED PRETTY!"

She swatted Eve viciously and repeatedly across her bare bottom. Adam could hear Eve's protests as she squirmed helplessly above him.

"Monica!" Helga rebuffed at last. "Temper! We're still in the elevator! You'll have plenty of time to spend with your new pet once we're back on the island. For now, we need to concentrate on getting them ready for shipping."

The door opened on the top floor, and the pair were rolled down the hall. There was a flurry of activity on this floor—the nature of which shocked Adam. Dommes escorted slaves—many of whom were naked—from room to room. Adam again attempted to cry out, hoping to call someone's attention to their plight.

"No one here will help you," explained Helga. "They're all with us. We've rented every room on this floor."

They stopped in front of a door, but Adam could not see the room number. Helga knocked, and the door immediately opened.

"Are these the ones who escaped?" asked the young domme who appeared in latex lingerie. "Somehow I thought they'd look more . . . formidable."

"They're livestock," remarked Helga. "Think of them as such."

The cart was rolled into the room, and other young dommes started to unfasten Eve from her perch on the top. Adam could only see the dommes' bare legs as they worked, but he could hear Helga rummaging through Eve's purse as they did.

"Here's their room key," she told one of them. "Go to their room, gather their things, and leave their key at the front desk. Make it look like they had a night of passionate love-making and checked out early. Bring all their personal items to Mistress Monica. They're hers now."

Adam saw two empty wooden crates on the other side of the room, each one two feet by two feet, and about four feet tall—each with a hinged top and a removable side panel. The lowest six inches of each crate was a separate compartment accessible only from the side. There was a six-inch round hole joining the upper compartment with the lower one. The purpose of the lower compartment became clear when a domme slid an empty bedpan into it (beneath the hole) before replacing the side panel. The fact that there were two crates removed all doubt as to how Helga intended to smuggle him and Eve out of the country.

One of the crates was labeled PONY with clear stenciled letters. From his current position, Adam could not see the label on the other crate.

"They're both overdue for a proper grooming," said Helga. "Monica, you will supervise the Pony's grooming here. I'll attend to Adam personally in my own suite. Be thorough. Don't leave a single pube." Helga swatted Eve's backside with a rolled up magazine as the other dommes carried her away.

"Mistress Helga," said a young domme who had just entered the room. "Mistress Kathy wants you in the big suite right away."

Mistress Kathy's here too?

"Godammit, what does that woman want now?" cursed Helga. She threw the magazine on the floor in disgust.

"The client is here early," explained the domme. "Mistress Kathy is already in the showroom negotiating."

Client?

"She can manage a client on her own. Doesn't she know that I have grooming to do?"

Adam glanced at the discarded magazine on the floor and saw that it wasn't a magazine at all. The glossy cover had assorted pictures of frightened slaves on it. Above the pictures was the title

Mistress Kathy's Updated Slave Catalog

.

Holy shit!

The young domme exchanged a hopeful glance with her partner. "

We

can groom the slave for you," she suggested, "in

our

room."

"No," said Helga flatly. "I am not leaving the two of you alone with him. You may groom him in the shower adjoining the showroom where I can keep an eye on you. Now help me get him upright. He can't be groomed while in a fetal position."

The dommes detached the chains binding him to the cart and rolled him roughly onto the floor. They removed his shoes, then unfastened the chain that joined his collar to his knees so he could finally stand up. Adam hoped they would untie his legs or remove his gag next, but instead they wheeled an upright dolly to him.

"We need to get that straitjacket off," said Helga. Adam hoped this would be an opportunity to resist his captors, but the dommes had worked out a strategy of removing one arm from the straitjacket and cuffing it to the dolly before releasing the other arm. He made a brief attempt to resist when his right arm was free, but the pair of dommes quickly grabbed it and secured it to the dolly before he could make use of the moment. Adam protested loudly through his gag.

"I wonder what he's trying to say," said one of the dommes.

"He wants his gag out," said the other. "Who wouldn't?"

The dommes completed their task, chaining his ankles, knees and collar to the upright dolly.

"Just one more thing," said Helga brandishing the scissors. She used them to cut through the elastic in his pants and underwear. The young dommes then took delight in tearing the garments away from him, leaving him naked and defenseless.

"My, how you've grown!" teased Helga. She stroked him just enough to provoke the reaction she wanted. The other two dommes giggled shamelessly. "Adam's waiting, girls. Let's take him to the big room."

The dommes turned his dolly around and pointed him at the door. As they did so, Adam glimpsed the stenciled label on the second empty crate. It said CHANDELIER.

With Helga in the lead, Adam was wheeled naked to the suite at the end of the hall. Helga entered while the dommes waited in the corridor with Adam.

"There she is," he heard Mistress Kathy say. "Ingrid, this is Mistress Helga. Helga, this is Ingrid, the Countess's attaché. The Countess could not be here herself, but she's joined us by internet."

"Hello, Mistress Helga," announced a strangely accented voice through some kind of speaker phone. "I am watching with great interest! Mistress Kathy was about to overcharge me again."

Kathy and Helga laughed politely at an apparently an old joke.

After several minutes, Helga was engaged in conversation with the client. The pair of dommes in the corridor decided they had waited long enough and wheeled Adam stealthily through the door of the suite and toward the bathroom.

Adam caught an eyeful in the seconds it took to get from the door to the bathroom, but it was hard to believe what he saw. The suite was indeed a showroom—crowded with fifteen or more naked women, all of whom were tethered in some way to the wall, the ceiling, the floor, or each other.

Adam had only a second to gather in this scene before being whisked away into the bathroom. Before his captors could close the door, however, a voice came booming through the speaker phone.

"Who is that gentleman in the back?" the voice demanded. "He's

magnific!

I must have another look at him!"

The young dommes looked at each other, unsure what to do.

"The 'gentleman' is not part of the selection," he heard Helga say. "He's a recent acquisition."

"And a flight risk," added Mistress Kathy.

"Nonsense!" said the woman on the speaker phone. "I have the finest security on the continent! No one has ever escaped from me!"

"He's to be trained as a staff slave," said Kathy. "He's not for lease."

"Nonetheless, I want to have another look at him," insisted the voice on the speaker phone. "Bring him out, or I shall cancel our arrangement and rent none of your girls."

The negotiation seemed to have reached a standstill. Kathy finally said, "Bring him out then. There's no harm in letting her look."

Adam was wheeled out of the bathroom into the suite, and his eyes were able to confirm what he had glimpsed only briefly a few moments earlier.

Naked women were bound so as to be completely immobilized in a variety of artistic poses—as if they were statues in a museum. Those that weren't standing were tied to each other as they lay on the floor, and some dommes were forced to step over them when moving about the room.

Perched on a loveseat was Mistress Kathy wearing a short but elegant dress. Across from her was the Countess's attaché in prim business attire. Helga stood in the middle, pitching their wares as if each slave were an art piece. Another woman in office attire carried a small video camera connected to a laptop whose screen was turned away from Adam.

"Oh, look at him!" said the accented voice on the speaker. "I can see why you want to keep him to yourselves. He's an alluring beast! Olga, get closer! I want a better angle."

At once, the young woman with the camera approached to within a foot of him and started tilting the camera up and down along the contours of his body.

"Oh my," said the voice, which then trailed off. "I want him. Money is no object!"

"Countess, we've discussed this before," said Kathy delicately. "The arrangement was to lease some of our fine women. Females only."

"But I've rented men from you before!"

"Yes," admitted Kathy testily. "And you've always returned them broken."

"You're not still blaming me for that, are you? That was so long ago! And they were so fragile! Hardly men at all."

"Countess," said Helga, inserting herself into the conversation. "Not to put too fine a point on this, but your contempt for men is well known to us. Our slaves have to be returned in good working order—with all their parts attached."

"Otherwise we take a loss on the transaction," continued Kathy. "Your deposit only covers marks and scratches, not complete disability."

"Very well, I'll buy him outright then!" continued the voice. "I'll give you double the usual price."

"Out of the question," said Helga.

"Mistress Helga," Kathy interrupted. "I will decide what's out of the question."

"Ingrid," said the voice. "I want to see more. Be a dear and—how do you say—give him fluff."

"Of course, Countess," replied the attaché, who must have been well paid, because she did not hesitate to obey her employer's bizarre request. She had a small bottle of lubricant ready in her coat pocket which she used to squirt fluid into her hand. The two young dommes stood ready with hand towels in case she requested them.

At first, the attaché showed no emotion, no pleasure, from what she did. She smeared the lubricant on him and quickly massaged him to full arousal. When she achieved her goal, her expression finally changed, as if she seemed to be just a little bit impressed.

"Oh my!" said the unseen Countess. "No wonder you don't want to part with him! I'll buy him. Right now I will buy him from you."

"Admittedly, he makes a good first impression," said Helga. "But he's hardly trained. We can't guarantee that he has the stamina to satisfy the demanding needs of one such as yourself."

"Now you're just making excuses," said the voice. "Very well, then. We'll need a proper test. Ingrid, you'll have to mount him for us. Show us how well he satisfies you."

"Yes, Countess," said the attaché. To avoid mussing her outfit, she dried her hands first, then promptly unbuttoned her coat. "Shall I do him on the bed or on the floor?"

"The lighting's best on the table," said the woman with the camera.

At once, the two dommes assigned to Adam's grooming cleared off a table and lifted Adam's dolly onto it as the attaché continued to disrobe.

"Mistress Kathy," said Helga. "You can't seriously be considering this?"

Kathy glared angrily at Helga. "Countess, please excuse us for a moment while Mistress Helga and I discuss a private matter."

"Of course," said the voice.

Kathy pulled Helga to the far side of the table and started to scold her in whispered tones. "I've been very patient so far in dealing with your fuck-up. Here's a chance to recoup at least some of our losses on this one."

Adam thought it was uncharacteristically careless of them to whisper so close to him that he could hear what they were saying, but he ultimately realized they had no reason to care. No one made any indication that they were going to remove his gag, so there was no chance of him compromising their "private" conversation.

"She'll damage him," insisted Helga. "You know she will."

Adam couldn't quite hear Kathy's reply, but it sounded like,

You were going to dismember him anyway.

He strained to hear more, but was distracted as Ingrid's panties landed softly on his chest. The naked attaché strutted toward him and climbed nimbly onto the table, straddling him on all fours. For the first time, she smiled at him, evidently in anticipation.