The Procurist

"So, any questions? Concerns?" The man across from her asked; a hint of a smile pulling up the corners of his finely made mouth. Corrine took a steady breath although her heart was fluttering wildly. They were in an elegantly furnished "sitting room." He was every inch the master of the house. He was completely relaxed, confident, at ease. She was terrified but too proud to let it show.

Really the arrangement should have been a no-brainer. She would live with him in what she considered to be a mansion for four years. In return, he would pay for her college degree, set her up with a healthy stock portfolio and upon completion give her a new car and $100,000 cash. The sticking point?

She would have to do everything he said. Everything.

"What type of work do you want me to do?"

"You are a smart girl. What does every man want? A beautiful young woman at his beck and call, bound to obey his every command. Quite simply put, you would be a sex slave." He said this as casually as if he were explaining her role as a receptionist.

"Wh-what? Are you kidding?" She knew he wasn't and he didn't waste words with an answer. She refused to become her mother. Corrine had spent her childhood watching her mother stumble home at dawn after fucking random strangers for money and swore to be more than that.

"No. Thank you for the offer, but ... no." She stood and grabbed her purse, readying to leave.

He said nothing as he stood and walked to a low bar in the rear of the room. She hesitated, expecting him to stop her or at least offer to call for the driver that had brought her here. He grabbed a short fat glass and poured about 3 fingers of an amber brown liquid. He turned to face her and leaned back onto the bar as he took a deep drink; crossing one ankle over the other. His suit jacket spread open revealing more of his crisp white shirt.

"I know you don't want to be like your mother." He said.

Hot anger flooded Corrine at the embarrassment of this stranger knowing about her mother. "You know NOTHING about me. And even less about my mother."

"Oh I know more than you'd think." He replied as he sat back down in the leather armchair.

"You graduated early, with honors at age 17. You immediately moved from the city to attend college full time while working third shift at a gas station. Your hours were cut so you couldn't afford to continue with school and dropped out at the beginning of this past semester, I'm betting to look for more work to save to go back to school next fall. But the owner of the gas station's brother just moved here from Iran so he had to let you go. I know you have$17.32 in your bank account and that your rent will be past due in," He paused to look at the ornate watch on his wrist, "3 hours. I know you have to go to the free store for food. I know you're hungry."

She stood in the entryway, stunned. How did he know this much about her? Had he been following her?She hated that he knew she was starving.

"Corrine, sit."

She complied but only out of curiosity. "This is an opportunity to put you on a path to greatness. To stop the fight for simple rights like education and food. How is giving four years of your life in this physical service for money and a degree any different than a young man committing to four years of physical service in the military to have his schooling paid for? He would have to live wherever they told him, obey their commands and potentially give his life for a cause that he may not even care about. But at the end of those four years, he will be free and better off. As will you."

"But- me? I'm hardly built like some sex kitten. Why me?"

He shrugged and that sly smile crept back up onto his face as he said, "I enjoy taking on risky investments."

Corrine cleared her throat and tried to match his relaxed posture.

"What happens if I want to leave before the four years are up?" she asked.

His bright blue eyes held her gaze steadily and she fought the urge to squirm under the intense ice blue of his eyes. He didn't even blink when he said, "Well, the repercussions would be dire. This is a contract and will be treated as such. I have powerful friends. Friends in high places that owe me. Suffice it to say that I could make your life even worse than it already is. I don't take this arrangement lightly and neither should you. You do, after all, stand to gain the most from this... opportunity."

He was right. This stranger - this rich mysterious stranger- could set her on a path to a better life. She should take what he offered. Corrine swallowed the lump in her throat and grabbed the pen lying between them, squeezing it tightly as she reread the paper before her.

"I will do everything you command of me with no limitations or restrictions for a period of time no shorter than four years or until such time that I have received a degree from a university of my choosing in any field I desire. You may not command me to stay longer than the agreed upon period or manipulate a situation to where that would be the outcome."

Line after line of tiny text filled the paper, outlining her payment in legalize but she couldn't focus on it.

She put the pen to the space where her signature belonged and prepared to sign her freedom away. "W-wait," She stuttered, "I don't know anything about you. What's your name? What do you do?" Her mind was racing. What were the catches? What wasn't she seeing? Her breathing came faster as her mothers voice flooded her ears, 'No such thing as a free ride, babygirl.'

A cold sweat started to bead on Corrine's forehead. What if he killed her?

He watched her as the panic set in, her breath coming in short fast gasps and the small hand that was clutching his Pierre Cardin was visually shaking, the knuckles white. Suddenly, she dropped the heavy pen and started to rifle through the worn purse at her side. "I-I ... I gotta go. Now. " But instead, she stayed seated, one hand frantically searching in her bag, and the other grasping and rubbing at her throat. She was making a soft whimpering noise and her pale face was fading before him to an even pastier white. He knew she was on the verge of having a severe panic attack. He leaned forward, "Corrine."

Her head jerked up at the sound of his voice and she stilled. "Wh-what?"

"Maybe I can help you find what you're looking for," He offered.

She looked at him and he seemed genuine; like she could trust him. He reached for the hand at her throat and cradled it in his much larger hand. He was so warm. "You're alright, babygirl."

The pet name immediately returned her to her senses and brought her back to the crisis at hand. She snatched her hand from his warm grasp and started digging for her pills again. "Thank you, but I-I can manage. "

He pushed back his chair and rose to his full height, dwarfing her in his shadow. He was easily 6'7 or 6'8". He sidestepped the small table between them and turned her chair towards him in one fast motion, sending her purse and it's contents spilling out onto the floor. She let out a short cry and dropped to the Aubusson on her hands and knees. He reached under her and swooped her up in one arm and grabbed a bottle of pills with the other hand. He sat her back down in her chair and knelt before her. "Is this what you need?" She nodded, tears flooding her eyes and threatening to spill over.

Corrine took the pill from his outstretched hand and immediately felt awash with relief. Just the sight of them and the chalky bitter taste on her tongue did much to sooth her. These anxiety attacks had been happening for about the last six months with increasing occurrences and severity. He took his hand and placed it on the back of her head, firmly pushing her head down toward her knees. She let him guide her and focused instead on her breathing. She didn't notice as he called for the man that had picked her up and driven her here to his home. What did he say his name was? She couldn't remember.

'Deep breath in. Slow breath out. Deep breath in. Slow breath out.' Her mental mantra was all she could think of.

He gently eased her back upright as her breathing began to return to normal and handed her a glass of cold water. She took a sip, then a gulp - all pride melting away for a minute as she found comfort in the cool liquid. She set the empty glass down on the table and there was the driver, Mr. B with a whole pitcher, filling it back up. He set the pitcher on a rolling cart and left it behind before leaving himself.

"How are you feeling?" The master of the house asked as he returned to his seat.

"Much better, thank you."

"Are you ready for me to address your concerns?" she nodded and set the half empty glass on the table.

"A man in my line of work can't afford to divulge his name readily in the event that you would decide not to take advantage of this opportunity and make this business of mine public," He pointed to the glass, "I want you to drink all of that." His voice sounded ... different. More stern, but not angry. She fought the urge to immediately pick up the glass and drain it, not wanting to embarrass herself more than she already had with her panic attack. After a moment of silence lingered between them, she realized he was waiting for her to finish it before he continued. Her cheeks flushed hot red as she picked up the cup and drank. She felt like a little girl that had made a scene for attention and was being forced to cool down. The silence in the room seemed to echo each swallow. The moment the glass was empty and she had put it down, he continued as if someone had just released the pause button.

"For now, if you wish to go further that is, you will call me Sir. Not master, not Mr, just Sir. You will always address other men as Mr or sir." he steepled his fingers under his chin and absently stroked the hint of a 5 o clock shadow.

"As for my occupation, I am a procurer of... sexual fantasy. You may learn more about exactly who I am and what I do at a later date and time when I feel that I can trust you- or you may never know, even if I trust you with every fiber of my being. It all depends."

"On what?" Corrine asked.

He turned his fingers so that they pointed to her. "You. Whatever is best for you. That will remain my top priority while you are in service here. To be mindful of your best interest. You will have a complete physical and all of your medical needs met. You will be in the best shape of your life by the time you leave here. I am tough. There will be pain but also pleasure. Tears but also with laughter. Most of the girls I've offered this to have loved their time here and begged to stay longer. Those that didn't love it as much left very much alive and with all of the same benefits promised to you."

She felt a sting of jealousy that other girls had come before her. Or was it humiliation that she thought that she was special and the only one he had offered this too? She eyed the pen, then let her eyes roam over him. He was tall. Viking tall. His blonde hair was cut so that it hung near the tops of his cheekbones and was just slightly shorter in the back. His skin was golden and he seemed to radiate health. He was lean and filled out his finely tailored clothes perfectly. He looked to be in his early thirties. His most striking feature were his eyes. Corrine had never seen eyes that bright. The blue seemed to almost glow. She could feel his gaze on her as palpable as fingers running over her skin. Could she trust him? She had to.

She picked up the pen and quickly scribbled her name.

"Very good." The man (or Sir as she'd been directed to address him as) said. He leaned forward to collect the contract and dialed something into the cellphone at his side. "I am going to have the Doctor come over to give you a physical before we go any further. Just to be sure I will be completely happy with my acquisition."

"But it's so late. I was hoping to get a showe-" He held up his hand to silence her. "From this point, you will not speak unless told to respond to a question." Mr. B reappeared to collect the contract. "Corrine, please hand over your purse, shoes, and any jewelry you may have to Mr. B." When she didn't immediately obey he added, " He will take good care of it, I assure you."

"But-"

"Have you forgotten what I just said?" His voice was softer now than it had been and it was this tone that made Corrine shake. "You may not speak unless in answer to a direct question. However, I will not hold this outburst against you. This will be your only free pass."

The idea of her medicine being out of reach nearly sent her into another attack. Words started to fall from her lips uncontrollably. "But I need my medication. I'll suffocate. I could really die! You don't know what you're doing to me! Please just let me carry my medicine. I promis-" Abruptly his hand shot up to cover her mouth and he had spun her around so that he was behind her. "Mr. B," that was all he had to say.

Mr. B pulled a ballgag with a big red ball from his pocket and handed it to Sir. "Now be a good girl and open," Sir commanded. Corrine shook her head and struggled to pull from his grasp. In response, he pressed his thumb and forefinger into the sides of her mouth, forcing her teeth apart and shoved the ball in. During the struggle, Mr. B retrieved a length of twine and assisted Sir in holding her still while he tied her hands behind her back. She fought wildly to get free and started kicking when Sir picked her up and forced her from the room towards her destiny.

"I will carry your medication with me, but keep in mind I will only administer it in an extreme situation so I advise you to find a way to calm yourself." He said as he carried her. The house was bigger than she originally thought. The ceilings were taller than any other she had ever been under, except for public buildings like a museum. And that was what this place reminded her of. Beautiful artwork covered the stately walls and big white statues seemed to occupy every nook and cranny. The passed a formal dining room and he carried her through a giant kitchen, finally stopping to open what she realized to be a cellar door.

The sudden dark space below and rush of cold air froze Corrine's struggles. She was terribly afraid of the dark, but he took the stairs into the blind darkness as confidently as he had carried himself the entire evening."Einschalten," he said and the lights came on with the characteristic flicker of fluorescent lighting. Before she could take notice of whatever language he was speaking or what it was he said, her eyes fell to the bizarre set up the hesitant light had revealed.

The space was huge and must have run the entire length of the house. There were hooks and pulleys hanging from the ceiling at various spots and what appeared to be a bird cage big enough to hold a large animal or even a person. The thought of being locked in that cage sent her body into shivers. The left side was covered with gleaming black tiles all the way around to the middle of the rear wall. In the tiled corner there was what she could only describe as a big empty aquarium on wheels standing over a large drain in the floor. There were two spigots on the wall and a length of black hosing coiled there. A pair of sea-foam green swinging doors with small windows were centered on the back wall. To the right of the doors, the wall was lined in metal sheeting with more eye hooks and pulleys attached. A single wooden chair sat in front of what she had just mentally dubbed, "The Wall." There was a large black metal cabinet and rows of drawers. Her mind raced as to what atrocities lay nestled in the drawers.

She had never before seen or even dreamt up a nightmarish sight such as this. Sir set her down on the concrete floor and grabbed her arm firmly; leading her through the different contraptions and to the swinging doors. Glass cabinets covered the back wall, filled with vials, syringes and other medical equipment. If she had not just taken her medication, she would have collapsed in panic at the sight. He pulled a long sheet of paper from the top of the table to the edge where he gestured and said simply, "sit." She tried to, but the table was set so high up that without the use of her hands to push her body up, she couldn't reach it without a stepstool.

Sir watched her struggle and smirked at her pride. Instead of looking to him for help, her big green eyes searched for a step. Then she tried backing up to it on her tippy toes to no avail. He picked her up by the waist and set her up onto the table as easy as if she were a child. He was intrigued. This girl had fire. One of his clients that ran a local free store had seen her and wanted her for himself. So Sir had tracked her down and made the offer. He could tell that she would be a challenge, but the best slaves always were.

He took a seat in a hard blue plastic chair next to the exam table to await the Doctor's arrival and watched his newest acquisition. She had long, straight jet-black hair that hung to about the middle of her back. Her skin was the color of porcelain and just as smooth. She wore very little makeup. Just a touch of mascara and some lip gloss but that was enough. She had a young fresh beauty; he wouldn't have believed she was 18 if he hadn't seen her birth certificate himself. Yes, he would enjoy breaking this one.