Mad Dog No More Heroes Ch 10

10 - Epilogue:

Simon Milton winced as he gingerly lowered himself onto the burgundy leather chesterfield. Whoever the bastard was who'd worked him over, he'd done a bloody good job of it. He'd get even with the fucker if it was the last thing he did.

He lit a Davidoff cigar and took a long drag, then balanced it on the edge of a cut glass ashtray on the side table. He picked up the Apple MacBook Pro from the varnished floorboards besides the couch.

His first action with the computer was to open the music library up and start playing. Soon the sound of Mozart's overture from the Ascanio in Alba oozed out of the Bluetooth speaker and filled his living room with soothing music.

The fat city day trader opened the Safari browser and tapped in the URL for a site on the dark web that he knew by heart. After a couple of minutes surfing the webpage he found what he was looking for.

"Ileana's starting bid is set at US$3,000," the listing read like something from eBay. The accompanying pictures were, however, something that Milton doubted would ever be seen on the world's favourite online auction site.

The girl was young, chubby, busty, blonde and naked. He liked that in a slut, big tits and long blonde hair.

She appeared to be straining against the ropes that bound her. Milton didn't know if that was natural or she'd been encouraged with a whip. Frankly, he didn't care.

Ileana was photographed in what looked like a cellar. She was tied in the shape of the letter 'X', with her arms and legs roped to metal rings set into the dirty concrete floor and arched brick ceiling. A ball gag filled her mouth, its straps cinched her long hair to the sides of her head.

The listing for her upcoming auction included her height, breast size and weight. The listing also pointed out that she had all her teeth. It also guaranteed that she was free of sexually transmitted infections.

"She was acquired from an orphanage in Bacău, Romania," the listing continued, "and has undergone one months intensive training in BDSM in Germany. She is now broken and completely submissive."

There was another photograph, this time of her face without the ball gag. She had obviously been told to smile, however, happiness was not reflected in her eyes. Strangely, neither was fear. All that was there was emptiness.

"She is capable of giving blow jobs," the caption read.

The accompanying photograph showed her mouth stretched wide to accommodate a fat cock.

"Fucking - she is experienced in both vaginal and anal," again their were more images of her with both orifices being used.

"Ileana enjoys golden showers."

The fat cock was again evident again in another two images. This time they showed a golden stream of urine that flowed from it into her gaping mouth, spilling down the sides of her face and onto her breasts. The girl was forcing a smile and licking her lips.

"She is experienced in receiving breast torture."

There was a picture of her breasts bound tightly until they were distorted and blue, hyperdermic needles had been pushed into her tits. There were also the dark grey ash marks where her areolas and nipples had been used as an ashtray.

Milton liked the idea of using his cigar on a girl to make her scream. He'd tried it on the escorts he'd hired, but the bitches had always baulked at the idea. No amount of cash would make them consent.

No, he'd buy a slut in the online auction. When she was his property he could do what he damned well wanted with the bitch.

Last summer he'd bought himself a five bedroom farmhouse on the North Yorkshire moors. It had cost him a small fortune, a gnats whisker under a million quid but Milton could afford it.

Unlike the other city boys, he hadn't pissed his money up the wall. Sure he'd spent some of his trading profits on life's little luxuries, but most he'd invested in his IT side business.

Milton had started his career in IT. He had an MSC in computing from Cambridge. His research dissertation had been in big data applications. After graduation he developed Oculus-3, an Artificial Intelligence bot that trolled the money markets and made better predictions of stock movements than any human analyst could.

Later he applied Oculus-3 to social media. The bot harvested the data about trends and targeted personalised messages to individual people on social media to shape public opinion.

He'd bought AnalitIQ LLC online. It was an offshore, tax friendly company registered in the Turks and Caicos Islands. He set up his IT firm in an office suite in a re-purposed Victorian warehouse in the London Borough of Newham.

The first thing he'd done when the company was set up was to build a truly humongous Beowulf computer cluster. Frankenstein, as he nicknamed it, was a 144-node cluster supercomputer.

He installed Oculus-3 and hired a couple of code monkeys to work the system. He'd had some success early on. His first campaign had been against Yulia Lebedev, a writer who covered intelligence issues on a news website.

He had been paid thirty thousand dollars by Alexi Makarov, a Russian businessman, to spread fake news on Facebook and Twitter that apparently came from the journalist. The idea was to discredit her stories about Russian activities in Ukraine by making it look as if everything she posted was fiction.

Makarov had been pleased, and had given AnalitIQ more work. Almost all political. Milton had no qualms. Over an eighteen month period the IT firms' work had been so effective that the Russian had bought in as a partner.

Now that Makarov had got involved Milton would sideline the day trading. The Russian was an oligarch, mid-tier. That meant that he was merely obscenely wealthy, as opposed to being rich enough to practically be a ministate in his own right. But he had the money to help Milton leverage himself from millionaire to multi-millionaire.

The whole transition away from working in the money market would suit his future plans. He'd move into the farmhouse, and would only travel to London for unavoidable meetings. Ultimately it wad nothing that couldn't be done online with Zoom.

Milton had chosen the place with an eye to his future plans. One of the primary purchase decisions was that it was well away from anyone else. He did not have any yen to socialize.

The place had been brought up to Milton's tastes in luxury; the Casa Padrino living room sofa alone had set him back over seven thousand, while the LKU kingsize bed was a gnats whisker under two grand. Not that he was bothered; he could afford to buy them.

But best of all there was a brick barn. He'd had the builders renovate the barn with an eye to spartan utility. One of only two fixtures in the room was a strong cage bolted to the floor.

Living in such a remote part of the country, he had explained to the workmen, it was probably wise to have a guard dog. This would be its kennel. It was a lie, of course. The kennel would be where his slave slept.

The second fixture was the heavy duty Saint Andrew's Cross. He'd bolted the thick baulks of timber to the wall himself. Milton knew his DIY skills were limited, but still, he took pride in his work. Nothing would shift the cross, no matter how much the silly bitch wriggled.

Amazon provided the two large metal dog food bowls where the slave would eat kneeling like an animal. The handcuffs, leather restraints, whips and floggers were bought online from Lovehoney .

Milton clicked on the "make a bid" icon. He wondered how much to offer for the slut. It was a sealed bid auction, and those interested were limited to one bid. It meant that if he went too low his offer wouldn't be accepted. Of course if his bid was too high he'd win the auction but overpay.

She was young, and while not ugly, she wasn't as beautiful as some of the slaves he'd seen on offer. They started with opening prices of $5,000 but the winning bids were usually in excess of $10,000.

This Ileana bitch was offered for three thousand. He'd seen similarly priced sluts go for up to four-and-a-half grand.

He typed in his bid. Four thousand two hundred-and-fifty Yankee dollars. Now all he had to do was sit back and see if he was lucky enough to win the auction.

(Thanks for reading. Mad Dog will be back soon in First Strike! Any thoughts and comments would be welcomed.)