My Day at the Mall

My Day at the Mall

Prologue

I had never in my life considered owning a person. I mean this is the U.S. of A. and we are in the twenty-first century after all. We send troops all over the world to free people, right? Hell I used to be one of those sent to do just that. Well some recent events in my life have forced me to change my views on slavery. Nevertheless, there you have it. I am now the bona fide, yet dubious, owner of two willing slaves. I guess you're wondering what happened. I warn you, I can only report the events as they unfolded, wait until you hear the whole story before you pass judgment.

Wassat? Who am I? Hmm...? I guess an introduction is in order. My name is Wayne Richards. I was born and raised in northern Alabama. I have blonde hair and sea-blue eyes. I'm not model gorgeous or anything like that, but I've been told I'm handsome enough and I've never lacked for a date if I wanted one. I stand at six feet three inches and weigh in at a little over two hundred and forty pounds. I did my time in Uncles Sam's Misguided Children so I know how to keep in shape. I was a gunnery sergeant in the Marine FORCE RECON, 1st Recon Battalion, 1st Platoon, and 1st Marine Division, based out of Camp Pendleton California. I spent most of my time on detached duty to the Special Operations Group run out of Langley and Falls Church, Virginia.

We did many things I am happy to forget. We also did a very few I'm proud of. I was at the end of my hitch with about a week left to go and no real plans when a friend, Redland (Red) McDaniels, called and asked if I wanted a job running security at the new mall he was building. The Torrington Mall was due to open in about three months. At first, I thought it was a joke. Then I found out it was to be the largest mall in the region and one of the largest in the world. So of course, I said yes. The six-figure salary and use of a company SUV was a nice inducement too. I would be in charge of what amounted to a small police force with more than a hundred men and women under my direct command. That was over two years ago now.

A car accident three months ago has kept me off my feet for the most part, thanks to a hip-to-ankle cast on my right leg. I wasn't even driving when Red and I got "T-Boned" at the intersection. Red walked away without so much as a friggin' scratch. (The Lucky Bastard!) Me, I can be up on my feet for a couple of hours at a time and even that's painful. Neither insurance company wants to pay the bills and my own medical provider says to bill the auto insurance for them. The insurance companies are fighting it out in court as to who will pay so my own health coverage is what I have to rely on. My lawyer tells me this is going to make a filthy rich man of me once he gets done suing both insurance companies for refusing to cover my medical bills and the physical therapy. But, that's down the line and I'm here now.

I've been able to work my upper body and keep toned for the most part but I was used to running ten miles a day, everyday, minimum. The cast came off last week. (Thank You, God!) I know I'm a little overweight now but I'm still solid and in better shape than most. I even signed up for a gym membership to get rid of the extra pounds. I have the type of metabolism that requires me to be active. A sedentary lifestyle is not an option for me. If I'm not active, well it all goes around the middle; hence my current predicament. My doc says my bones have healed remarkably well, so with a little therapy and a little time I'll be good as new, aside from the occasional weather related pain.

My doc and the physical therapist both wanted me in a structured environment for my rehab but my own insurance wouldn't cover all of the therapy and the difference in cost made it cheaper to buy a year's membership at a good gym with certified trainers available. So, I checked the local establishments out and picked the best of the lot. As is happens the best local gym is in my mall.

'Body Dreams' is on the second floor mezzanine and has heated therapy pools and a full sized twenty-five-meter pool as well as every kind of workout equipment you could ask for, and on-site trainers and physical therapists. Normally I wouldn't have wanted to spend that kind of money, but as I'm a mall employee my discount made it the most affordable option. Lucky me!

I'm not wealthy but I'm not usually hurting for money either. I hit the Mega-Bucks lotto a while back, two weeks after I got out of the Marines in fact. It wasn't a huge win and I elected to take the structured annual payments to cut my tax bite. I don't touch that though, not for anything. That's going to let me retire in comfort in ten or fifteen years. I'm twenty-six and working a good six-figure job that I like and now I own two slaves. Who woulda thunk it?

Anyway, here's what happened...

*****

Chapter 1

It was a dreary, cold, and wet Saturday evening as I came in through the East doors. I had hoped to get into the office and do a little paperwork before heading over to Body Dreams for my therapy session in the pool.(If it wasn't the best gym around I'd never have set foot in the place with a corny name like that, now I'm glad I did.). My right leg was improving but it was still a little weak and throbbed when the weather was bad, like today, so instead of the steps I was on the wheelchair ramp leading to the half level that ran three quarters of the length of the mall. I was contemplating skipping straight to the heated pool instead of the office, when I saw this tall Asshole -- pardon me, man -- with a medium build, and a shaved head tugging on a chain. I'd seen his type before. He was the type to hassle anyone he thought he could, just because he was a big guy. In short, he's a bully. My mamma would have added "pig" to his description as well. I didn't like his being here but as we were in a public venue I couldn't say much unless he gave me cause. He was outfitted in black leather and looked like one of the bondage crowd.

Behind him attached to the chain was a small woman, maybe five feet tall if that, in a full body PVC bondage rig and what must have been at least six-inch stiletto heels that forced her to walk on her very tiptoes. No shit, I mean she had on a head-to-toe body suit. It looked like something right out of a very bad porn movie. Her wrists were cuffed behind her back thrusting her impressive chest out for the whole world to see, and the chain hobbling her six-inch stiletto clad feet was no more than eight to ten inches long, forcing her to scramble to keep up with him. She wore a wide, tight, leather posture collar around her neck forcing her to keep her head up. Attached to it was a chain link leash, the other end was held in the assholes right hand. (Our mall was also host to not one but two private "Alternative Lifestyle Clubs" that catered to the rich clientele of the mall, so I figured they were probably on their way to one of them.)

I thought to myself, "She has one hell of a body on her. Too bad she's so freaky, and with this loser." I couldn't see her face behind the hood that was in place and I saw that she was wearing a ball gag as well. I noticed the hood had no eyeholes. She was blind and at his "mercy". The more I saw of this situation, the less I liked it. I was on the right hand side of the ramp to make use of the handrail, and they were entering the top of the ramp. When the asshole saw me limping up the ramp he let out a guffaw and at the top of his voice said, "WELL, WELL, a cripple as I live and breathe!" At that, he moved to my side of the ramp and began moving towards me. I think he intended to make me move out of his way but his plans backfired and started a chain of events that would forever change my life.

He came towards me and changed directions so quickly that his companion, hobbled as she was, could not keep up. As soon as he got within arms reach of me his companion lost her footing and fell into his back putting him off balance. I saw the chain reaction build, sidestepped, and the asshole went sprawling face first into the green all-weather tread of the ramp floor.(I may be injured but my reflexes are still sharp!) I decided then and there that if he gave me an excuse I was going to hurt him.

Unfortunately, he did not let go of the chain connected to his companions collared neck. As he fell, he gave the chain a mighty jerk and with her balance already gone to hell, she began to fall. I put out an arm and caught her around the waist to break her fall. I dropped quickly to my right knee, much as it hurt to do so in my condition, I let out a growl of pain. I learned in the Corps how to turn pain aside and use it to focus, so that is what I did. I looked at the girl and that's when I saw it. I knew the signs of torture when I saw them. I had seen them often enough in the Corps.

I felt a rage unlike anything I had ever felt before wash over me as memories of another time came flooding back. The girl in my arms was trembling so badly that she couldn't stop. "You stupid fucking cunt! I'll Make you bleed for that, you bi-yeowch!" The asshole was screaming at the top of his lungs. As the first part of the threat left his lips I seized the chain around the girl's neck and yanked it as hard as I could ripping the chain leash out of his hand. The links cut his right palm open as they came loose, and he grabbed at his hand cursing. I coiled the chain and placed it in the girl's palms, I then turned, stood and faced the asshole. The rage I felt had never abated; it magnified and fed on itself. I didn't have much time.

I took two steps towards him and placed myself between him and the girl. I spoke calmly and clearly, "You need to leave the premises sir. I will not allow you to hurt this woman anymore. Go find a new playmate."

The asshole stood and laughed at me. "A fat assed fucking cripple thinks he's gonna take what's mine. What are you? Brain damaged or something?" He tried to rush me and as he threw his first punch, I used what Uncle Sam had taught me. I used his own momentum to send him flying back down to the bottom of the ramp.

He landed hard with a grunt, rolled to his feet and pulled out a weapon I recognized. The Sykes-Fairborn combat knife is recognized the world over for it durability and its construction. Its seven-inch blade, in the hands of someone who knows how to use it, is a fearsome weapon. Asshole didn't know how to use it, he wasn't a pro but even a talented amateur can kill you. He came at me swinging the blade low expecting me to dodge the blade by retreating back towards the girl. However, in a confined space, such as the ramp we were on, the best defense is to pick the impact site and control the damage. The blade pierced the top of my left forearm and passed through to the bottom. I tensed the arm and twisted it away from my body forcing him to open himself to my attack or release the blade hilt.

He let go but it was already too late. My right fist came up from low on my right side and into the point of his chin. I felt the bones in his jaw break in at least two places. As I followed through with the punch, I brought my left foot into a front snap kick that caught him just below the breastbone. He landed hard and stayed down. As he came to rest, the security squad on duty came racing towards us around the corner and up the steps. On seeing me, Jerry Parker, the squad leader asked "What's up chief? What the hell...?" he had seen the knife in my arm.

I looked at my arm. The blade was embedded to the hilt but it wasn't bleeding profusely, I'd been hurt worse and survived. "Call the cops and an ambulance..." I paused, "Better make that, two ambulances. Cuff that prick. He's got a broken jaw and maybe a cracked rib or two. Give me your combat folder and help me move this lady out of the walkway." I moved the girl to one of the tables in the court area to our right.

As I spoke, my men followed my orders without question. Jerry got on his walkie-talkie, "S-1-9 to base we need PD and EMT's at the East entrance ASAP. S-1 is hurt; send the first aid kit to the East deck ASAP, S-1-9 clear." Terry, the dispatcher, acknowledged and we headed for the girl.

I turned to Jerry "I need a thin sharp blade now! I know you're carrying one Jerry, so lets have it." He just looked at my arm and the blade in it and back. "Now, Jerry!" I roared.

The guards weren't supposed to carry weapons of any kind thanks to some idiot in the state legislature, but Jerry never went unarmed. He pulled out a four-inch Spyderco combat folder, opened it with a flick of his wrist, and handed it to me.

I began to examine the outfit the woman wore. Every zipper, buckle, snap, hell – any - fastener of any kind had been sealed shut with epoxy or something like it, down to and including the buckles that wrapped her delicate ankles on her shoes . They would have to be cut off as well. This was not good, not good at all. PVC makes you sweat. It does not breathe so if you wear it for very long you can dehydrate quickly. It also stores and reflects body heat, so heatstroke is a real possibility in a rig like this. I'd seen similar rigs used as torture devices in countries that my record says I've never been to, I never thought I'd see one in use here. She had been in this thing far too long and I was afraid she was dying right there in front of us. I worked a finger under the edge of the PVC near her face and slipped the knife under the strap of the ball gag. It too, was glued in place so it could not be removed.

As soon as the strap on the gag parted, the woman spat it out and tried to scream. Her mouth and throat were so dry that she could not speak or even make a sound; all that came was a dry hissing that broke my heart. I saw that her lips were dry and cracked. She started to struggle and while holding her head near my own I heard static. The bastard had put ear bud headphones playing "white noise" in her ears so she could not hear. She didn't know we were there to help.

Wounded as I was I couldn't control her, hold her still, and cut her free, too. I had to have Jerry help me. "Jerry she can't hear us. She thinks it's that sick fuck over there. Hold her still while I work on getting that hood off so she can see and hear what's going on. And send for some water." One of the other squad members, Ray Tyler, took off for the Orange Julius stand down the corridor without being told, as Jerry knelt behind the woman and wrapped his arms around her. Jerry stands at six feet eight inches and weighs more than I do so this little woman had no chance of resisting him. He held her still and I worked the blade as carefully as I could around her neck cutting the PVC so I could peel the hood from her skull.

She froze when she felt the blade slide next to her skin. The sharp blade parted the PVC quite easily and then I came to a wire near the left side of her neck. As it parted, the white noise stopped. I said, "If you can hear me, wiggle your feet." I heard the chain jingle as she complied. "Don't try to talk yet. We've sent for water and it should be here soon. We are with mall security and we need to get you out of this getup ASAP. The prick has glued all of the buckles shut so I have to cut you free. If you move too much while I'm working, you could be injured so please be still for a few more moments." As I spoke, her breathing calmed and she stopped shaking quite as much. As she relaxed, Jerry let her go.

She gave a brief nod of assent and I went back to work, murmuring soothing words to her all the while. After several minutes I made a final cut, the hood came free, and I carefully peeled it off her head. Her medium length hair was damp, and matted with sweat so I couldn't tell what color it was; anything from a brown to a honey blonde was my best guess. The woman shook her head and took a moment to get her bearings. She looked up at me and I was lost in a sea of emerald green.

At that moment, Ray arrived with several bottles of water, a bottle of Gatorade and the tram carrying the first aid kit. I took one of the bottles of water, opened it and gently poured a little into her mouth. As the water hit her parched throat, she began to cough. "Slowly, little one, slowly," I cooed softly to her. "If you try swallowing too soon you could hurt yourself." I spoke in a low calm voice trying to soothe her. After all, she didn't know me from Adam. She nodded again and I brought the bottle to her lips. "Just hold the water in your mouth and let the tissues absorb it. You'll know when you can swallow."

I filled her mouth with more water and after a moment, I saw her relax and swallow without trouble. I gave her more water and then turned to the first aid kit and got out some gauze and a large sterile pad. I took the ten-inch square pad, wrapped the hilt of the knife in my arm with it, and hissed as I drew it quickly from my flesh. I wrapped the blade in the pad and set it aside for the police. I took two more of the gauze wipes, cleaned the area around the wounds, and then put a medium-sized pressure bandage on it with a little help from Jerry. We were still waiting for the EMTs and the cops to arrive but at least now I wasn't dripping blood all over everyone.

I picked up Jerry's knife and began working to get her out of the suit again. I paused and glanced at her as I said, "I'm betting you are not wearing much under this thing" I had just opened the leather collar by cutting a "V" in it and splitting the leather. I then cut a v-neck opening into the PVC so she could breathe a little easier. She flushed and shook her head no.

"Jerry, go over to the tram and get the bolt cutters. I wanna get her hands and feet free before the cops get here." He nodded and quickly returned with our version of bolt cutters. It's a powered, hardened steel cutting wedge with a two horse motor attached to it. We took Polaroid's of her condition to use as evidence, before freeing her hands. The cutter made short work of the links and then the cuffs as well as the ankle cuffs. "What is your name, miss?" Jerry asked. With the water she was drinking, her color was improving but her voice was still unsteady.

"R-R-Rachel. My name is Rachel Curtis." The stutter in her voice made me want to comfort her, to take her in my arms and tell her it would be okay because the bad man could never hurt her again. The pronounced Irish lilt in her voice was intoxicating to me.

I looked at her and asked, "Do you know where you are? Or how you got here?"

She shook her head in the negative. "He put that d-d-despicable h-hood on m-me and then put me in a van. I don't know where we are. It s-s-seemed w-w-we drove for hours. Then he pulled me out of the van and here I am." She was beginning to tremble in reaction.

"Jerry, get on the horn and find out what's keeping the cops and the EMTs. I'm gonna take her to Della's and get her into some proper clothes and out of that damnable suit. If the shit head wakes up again before they get here, kick him in the head till he's out again." Jerry knew me well enough to know I was only half joking about that last bit. I took a spare radio from the charger on the tram.

I knelt and cut the straps holding her feet in those gruesome shoes. She sighed in pleasure as I removed them and rubbed her feet for a few moments. I stood and held out my free hand and after a moment, Rachel took it. I helped her stand and then took my charge to Della's House of Fashion.

Della is a bubbly middle-aged black lady that gets a kick out of my southern-bred manners. She loves to tease me and it always has a sexual edge to it. I walked Rachel into her store and said to the clerk, "I need Della ASAP. If she's not in the office call her cell, I have to speak with her now."