Sausages for the Slave

The aircraft rocked as a large man stepped in the doorway followed by a woman carrying a clipboard. They both wore military fatigues. The big guy, bald head oiled and gleaming, stopped by the first prisoner on the other side of the aisle from Dan. He reached down and turned up a label that was attached to the shoulder of the orange jumpsuit. 'This is 9314'.

'OK got him' replied the lady with the clipboard, ticking off her list. She turned and shouted out the door and two more soldiers crowded in. 'Take him to the holding cage.'

Dan watched the complicated procedure of removing and reapplying restraints, preparing himself mentally for the same treatment. Arms were pinioned behind him and cuffed, 9314 was roughly bundled off the plane. The loud thump which followed probably meant he landed flat on his face. The second prisoner was similarly dealt with. Out the door, thump, and gone. Now Dan's turn. The big guy poked at Dan's jumpsuit sleeve.

'Hey, this guy's got no tag. What's your manifest say?'

'Well, I've only two prisoners on the manifest, Sir, and we've taken them both into custody. I don't know who this guy is,' the aide replied, pointing to Dan.

'Hey Mohamed, speak English?

'He doesn't look Arab. Sir.'

'Yes. I speak English, just like you. That's because I am American.'

'Are you some kind of terrorist?'

'No. I'm with your side. I needed to get out of France undercover. You could say I hitched a ride disguised as one of them. I was supposed to get off when the aircraft refuelled on the east coast, but it didn't do a refuel stop. This was a direct flight, the first direct flight, in fact. We didn't know that when I was boarded. Only found out when we were airborne. '

What's your name?

'I can't reveal that.'

'Who put you on the flight?'

'Classified information. I can't reveal that.'

Ok. I'm not pushing it. I hear you-- not asking who you work for or what you do. One of them shady outfits. But you can't disembark here. Not that you'd want to. We can only deplane documented enemy combatants that are sent to us. This is a restricted area. You shouldn't be here.'

'That's fine with me. I'll just stay on board. The aircraft either goes back to its base on the mainland or back to Europe. I can work with either destination.'

'Okay. Never saw you. You're not here. But I'm not going to untie you and I'm putting your blindfold back on. No unauthorised person is supposed to see this installation. This could be a test of our security for all I know.'

'Understood, ' replied Dan crisply, trying to sound all military efficient-like, as his world went dark once more.

'Corporal, our work is done. Back to base.'

Nice knowing you, thought Dan. The aircraft rocked once more as the two stepped off. Then silence reigned. Dan was pleased with himself. Feeling very James Bond. Improvised and showed initiative. Confident that he wasn't going to be incarcerated in Guantanamo and that the aircraft crew would have no alternative but to take him with them, wherever, Dan relaxed. Wouldn't have minded a change of diaper, but he was prepared to suffer a little in the cause of getting delivered to somewhere civilised. Dan could hear various comings and goings outside, probably refuelling he decided. Eventually, the aircraft rocked again as somebody boarded, but nobody approached him. A short while later the door clunked shut. Dan blinked as his blindfold was lifted. A young guy in a flying suit stood in front of him.

'Okay, mystery man. I hear we have to take you out of here. Do you have to stay tied up? Is that part of your disguise?

'That disguise was only for getting me out of Europe. I had to look like a detainee. I'd appreciate it if you'd untie me.'

The pilot quickly undid the strapping on Dan's legs and arms, and Dan gratefully wriggled all his limbs, getting the circulation back into them. The other pilot, or co-pilot, Dan didn't know which was which, was up front powering up the engines. The first pilot, the one that untied Dan, told him they were heading to a place called Wildfield, New Jersey. It was a former Navy station that they used for refuelling and as a base. As far as the Wildfield folk know, they are a civilian executive jet, he said. Dan assured him that he wouldn't do or say anything when they got there to give the game away. The pilot went into the cockpit, closing the door behind him and soon they were airborne and on their way. Dan settled in for the flight. He was going home -- somehow.

An uneventful three hours later, the aircraft taxied to a halt outside a small hanger in a remote corner of what he presumed was Wildfield. As the engines were powered down, Dan unclipped the five point harness and wondered what would happen next. He didn't have to wait for long. The cockpit door opened and the pilot came out and quickly opened the cabin door, indicating to Dan that he should exit quickly and make himself scarce. Dan didn't delay. Waving his goodbyes and thanks, he headed down the steps and onto the tarmac. There was nobody about. What now, he thought, carefully walking barefoot along the side of the hanger. He realised why the prisoners were kept barefoot as he gingerly stepped on the sharp gravel chips. A rapid getaway was out of the question. Luckily he hadn't far to go. Rounding the corner to the back of the hanger he spotted a small eight-by-four U-Haul trailer parked tight against the wall. A square of paper pasted to the trailer door carried a simple printed message 'Daddy's Trailer.' Dan grinned. It was all coming together. The trailer was the smallest in the range, offering only about four foot of headroom inside. Dan crawled in to find a foam mattress on the floor, a sleeping bag and a bag of supplies. He opened the envelope that was fixed to the bag. Dear Daddy, it read, this is the last leg of the journey. Pull the door closed and it will lock. It's about a three-and-a-half-hour drive back home. When you arrive I may not be there. Don't panic, I will turn up and release you. Dan was happy with that. He could just about sit comfortably on the foam mattress, without his head hitting the roof of the trailer. He reached out and pulled the door closed, hearing the outside bolt dropping shut automatically. He was locked in. By the gloomy light of the interior, Dan examined his supplies. Two spare diapers, a pair of grey track legs and a matching top that looked remarkably like what he used to wear at home in Manor Homes Village, a pair of trainers, a bottle of water, and two ham and cheese baps. He would survive.

Dan settled in to wait. Eventually, he heard a vehicle pull up. Somebody rattled the door of the trailer which confirmed that it was locked. No attempt was made to communicate with him, no friendly slap on the side of the trailer even. Must be a strictly confidential deal, Dan supposed. Ask no questions, expect no answers. The less you know the better. If the trailer door is locked then you are good to go. Just deliver the box to the address and get out of there. Dan felt the trailer lift and drop onto the hitch of the vehicle, probably a pickup. Then they were off. He decided the airfield had been under observation and the arrival of the mystery Lear jet reported. While he was walking along the side of the hanger he had noticed a storage and van rental place just outside the perimeter fence. That's probably where this trailer came from, he speculated, as he shuffled down into the sleeping bag.

He had no watch and couldn't see out of the enclosed trailer. Dan found it hard to judge their progress. The sun had gone down as the aircraft reached its destination. Dan reckoned it was now maybe nine in the evening, local time. He had no idea what time it was Paris, but he knew he'd had a long day. He lay down in the sleeping bag and let his mind drift to the prospect of having a good time with Elizabeth tomorrow after he was delivered to her door and had a good night's sleep. She'd probably drop a pan on the floor at breakfast, her in her sexy Britney outfit. He'd chastise her heartily, before having her slip between his knees to lustily suck on his dick. Good times ahead. Dan fell asleep. He came to suddenly when they seemed to slow down. Coming off the highway, Dan decided. After a few stops and starts that seemed like traffic lights, he knew they were near. Then they slowed and stopped. He heard some talking. The gated entrance to Manor Homes Village. Dan's pal the security man doing his job. Next, the trailer reversed and was unhitched. Without any indication, no slap of goodbye on the side panel, Dan heard the tow vehicle drive away. The package had been delivered as instructed. The waiting began again.

Dan must have dozed off. The sound of the bolt being pulled back and the trailer door opening woke him. It was dark outside. Dan blinked to try and clear his vision and focus on the figure standing at the trailer door.

'Well, well, the wanderer returns. Come out, Dan. Let's have a look at you.'

It was Mary. Dan was a bit shocked. What was she doing here? She was supposed to be in Dubai. And where was Elizabeth, his rescuer?

'H..Hello, M.. Madam,' stuttered Dan, as he shuffled on his ass down to the trailer door. Nothing dignified about it. At least he had changed into his track legs and top and was wearing a fresh diaper. As he reached the end of the trailer, he could see he was back in his own driveway. The trailer had been reversed up to the now open garage door.

'Let's go inside and talk,' said Mary, moving into the garage. Dan followed as Mary pressed the remote on her key ring. The garage door closed behind them. She led the way into the kitchen, past the door of the slave quarters. Dan glanced in nervously, hurrying past.

'Make us both a coffee, Dan.'

'Sure.' Dan replied, avoiding the Mary Madam conundrum. She had sold him so she wasn't his owner anymore, technically, he tried to convince himself, scurrying around anxiously, wanting to get the coffee made, trying not to spill anything or knock into anything. His brain was in turmoil. Just like that, he had come halfway around the world, virtually. Just hours ago, he was a slave in a Paris basement, getting milked for his sperm. Now he was back in his own kitchen, making coffee for his wife, technically former wife, and definitely former owner. And what was the big picture? What was going on, he wondered. Had Mary bought him back, maybe? He decided to ask as soon as they had their coffee. He took comfort from the fact that Mary had definitely invited him into the coffee round. It was coffee for two.

He placed the two mugs of coffee on the kitchen table, sugar and milk on the side. Mary was sitting in her usual commanding position, back to the wall. Dan's metal IKEA stool waited invitingly in front of him. He was waiting for Mary to invite him to sit.

'Why don't you get naked, Dan? It's been a while since I've had a look at you. Then you can sit and we will talk.'

After briefly, very briefly, considering refusing. Dan folded.

'Yes, Madam,' he replied meekly.

What was holding him back was the, 'I can put you out on the street anytime' line Mary had used when she told him she had divorced him, eighteen months previously. He didn't fancy being put outside her front door and being told to go hop, with only the clothes on his back, his pockets empty. So Dan stripped for Mary, on Mary's command, feeling a little self-conscious as he did so. It had been a month since they were last in each other's company. A little strangeness had crept in. Dan knew he was by far the weaker of the two in this set-up. He was the powerless one. He was being told to strip and he was stripping naked. The lamb in the lion's den. Feeling her cool eyes roam over his body freely. Seeing her smiling slightly as his diaper was revealed. No disguising the sound of the Velcro tabs being pulled back. No dignity in that. Stooping to place his bundle of clothes in the corner by the door, highly aware of presenting his bent-over and exposed ass for her careless, casual, gaze.

'Come here. Stand beside me.'

'Yes, Madam.'

Mary took Dan's nearest wrist, reached up, and clipped the wrist cuff to his collar. The same for the second wrist. She then cupped his balls gently and watched his penis stiffen and rise.

'Now sit. We'll have our coffee.'

'Yes, Madam.'

'First Dan, you may be wondering why I am here. The simple answer is that I'm back to report to the quarterly board meeting on the Middle East market. I know I'm only gone a month but the quarterly meeting is when the quarterly meeting is, and that is tomorrow. The IT market in the Middle East is really ramping up and it's a high priority for the company. I'll fly home every quarter to attend the meeting and check in with HQ. Just part of the job, Dan. '

'I see.' Dan was getting more comfortable. Getting some coffee into him. Decided he could ease up on the 'Madam' thing.

'The second thing you may be wondering is, what is going on as regards you being brought home by Elizabeth? Simply this. Elizabeth emailed me to ask for you to provide that service you provided to her. She wasn't aware that I had transferred to Dubai. And yes, Dan I now know what that service was. Anyway, I told her you had skipped out on me in Paris and I didn't know where you were. Thought that would be the end of it. Didn't reckon on Elizabeth's special skills. Two weeks later, she told me she had tracked you down. Said that you had been enslaved by some cruel white bitch in Paris who was making you work for her and planning to sell your sperm. Well, I had to be shocked. What choice did I have? Had to agree to get you back by whatever means. Poor Dan. Enslaved by a cruel white mistress. Can't have that. Elizabeth said, no problem. 'Leave it to me,' were her very words. And voila, as they say in Paris. Here you are. Purely by coincidence, I happen to be home today and tomorrow, otherwise, you'd be sleeping in Elizabeth's bed tonight, well sleeping in her guest bed I presume. Maybe in the one she calls her Daddy's bed, Dan,' added Mary with a sarcastic arch of her eyebrow. Anyway, when I told Elizabeth I'd be home she arranged for you to be delivered here. She won't get back till tomorrow.'

'Lucky for me. Otherwise, I'd be lying in the trailer all night.'

'Indeed. Now we both need to sleep. When I get back from the office late tomorrow afternoon, you and I will go out and have a nice meal in our favourite restaurant and decide a way forward. Deal?'

'Yes, Madam,' said Dan again. He had decided not to attempt any conversation or argument during Mary's explanation, concentrating instead on drinking his coffee. This required him to lean in over the table and bring the mug of coffee carefully to his lips. It was the first cup of coffee he'd had since his meal on the flight to Paris a month ago, and he didn't want to waste it. It tasted good. He was happy to wait to sort out his future over a meal tomorrow evening. Meaning Mary would tell him what she wanted and he would go along with it. Fine, thought Dan. For now, he just wanted to sleep. A lot had happened.

Mary conducted him to the slave quarters, pausing only to get his old shock collar from the charging station. Dan didn't object or try to resist as she fastened it around his neck before pointing to his plastic-coated mattress.

'There, you are all set, Dan. No harm in putting your shock collar on. I might want to call you on the tablet tomorrow, in case I'm running late or something. Now into bed. Alexa will wake you at six-thirty and we will have breakfast together at seven. Just like old times. Eh, Dan?'

'Yes, Madam. '

After Mary left, and the door slid closed, Dan lay on the mattress in the dark, his hands held tight under his chin, taking comfort from the familiar red light blinking above him on the ceiling. He had every intention of reviewing the unbelievable events of the previous twenty-four hours before moving on to consider his options for tomorrow. He did neither of those things. He immediately fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

'Good morning Slave, time to get up.' Pause. 'Good morning Slave, time to get up.' Pause. 'Good morning Slave,..'

Dan woke up. Though still a bit groggy, he knew immediately where he was. He was back home. And he knew immediately what he should do now. He rolled over, got off the bed, turned towards the small black box on the wall near the now open door to the slave quarters, and answered.

'Alexa, I understand, thank you.'

His wrists were still clipped to his collar. That determined what his next move should be. He went upstairs and stood outside the closed door to the master bedroom, which was his wife's bedroom. Dan still thought of it as the master bedroom. The 'mistress' bedroom didn't quite carry the same weight. The 'here is where the ruler of the roost sleeps' room, is what the title should convey, and 'master bedroom' does that, he mused, as he waited. About three minutes later the door slid open.

Mary sat propped up in bed, sipping her morning coffee which she had obtained from the little coffee maker on her bedside table. The lower half of her body was covered by the duvet, but otherwise, she was naked. Dan couldn't help staring. Nor could he help salivating as he looked at her pink-brown nipples sitting in the middle of her pert breasts. He was hungry and was long overdue for his morning breastfeed, Paris time. As he waited to be called to enter, Dan wondered idly what Sophia had done to satisfy her breast-suckling kick that morning. Probably expressed the milk that Dan wasn't there to suck from her. Feeling his penis thicken and rise as he gazed on his wife's breasts, Dan realized he had to kick the breastfeeding thing too. He'd gotten quite used to it. Wouldn't do to be caught staring hungrily at his wife's breasts or the breasts of whatever woman he happened to be looking at. He was now hard and erect.

'Good morning, Slave. I see you are pleased to see me. Come here and I'll free your hands.'

'Good Morning, Madam,' answered Dan obediently, despite thinking the 'slave' label was pushing it a bit. He moved across the room to the bed and stood next to his wife. He leaned in so that she could reach under his neck and unclip his wrists from his collar. Leaning in brought his head very close to his wife's breasts. He closed his eyes. Decided that was the best way to deal with temptation. He felt Mary unclip his hands and he stood straight, opened his eyes, and trained them on her face. Decided to study the pores on her nose carefully, anything to stop his glance moving downwards. Mary playfully kneaded his balls and, almost absentmindedly, gave a few slow strokes to his penis.

'Would you like me to prepare your breakfast, Mary,' Dan hazarded, bravely going into the Mary mode of address. After all, he reasoned, it was breakfast time, their intimate 'Dan and Mary having a chat' time and, besides, he was no longer, strictly speaking, her slave anymore.

'Do that, Dan. By the way, you won't have to service Alexa this morning. I've tuned back her libido. She only needs to fuck the slave once a day now. When there is a slave for her to fuck, that is. And it's usually in the afternoon.'

'That's great,' Dan replied neutrally. Wasn't going to point out that he was no longer the slave. And neither was going to say that bending over for Alexa wasn't on his agenda either.

Nothing had changed in the kitchen. Dan prepared Mary's cereal and his own. They sat opposite each other and Mary didn't waste time. She set out the position.

'As I see it, Dan, you have two realistic options. The first is that you stay here. I'll buy you back from Sophia. Do some sort of deal with her anyway. You will resume your usual slave life in this house. Alexa will schedule your tasks. You will satisfy the neighbours by providing the services you have been providing. That includes satisfying those with special requirements. I'll arrange for Bette to visit and discipline you every so often, especially after you have serviced Elizabeth's special requirement. Just to remind you of your slave status. I'll be back here every quarter and we'll enjoy a good time in my bed, as we will tonight, Dan. Just for old time's sake.'