Reina in a Strange Land

Reina watched anxiously as the remaining bodyguard walked toward her, reaching behind her back to grip the knot of ropes at her upper back. She yelped as he manhandled her into place standing near the two men. The ropes encircling her torso kept her completely immobile, yet were not uncomfortable. She marveled at Mr. Jamison's skill in tying her, and yet she was terribly alarmed at the way her body was responding to the ropes. She told herself it was just leftover arousal from earlier, or an effect of the sleeping gas she'd inhaled multiple times. Yet she couldn't deny the strange pressure the

shibari

ropes were applying to her breasts, making them so sensitive and tingly. Nor could she deny the strange sense in her belly that she belonged like this, bound and helpless, and she wondered if that was also an effect of the gas. Reina glanced up at the handsome yet intimidating bodyguard, but he was not looking at her, and was instead focused on the men's conversation, so she did the same.

Lord Bartow was speaking to Mr. Jamison, his brown eyes turning serious. "Richard, has word reached you that one of my ships was impounded by the authorities?"

Reina stiffened, looking at Mr. Jamison. She saw his eyes flick furtively in her direction before returning to look at Lord Bartow.

"Uh, I--" started Mr. Jamison, but he was quickly interrupted.

"Fortunately there were none of our girls onboard at the time, or anything else incriminating," said Lord Bartow. "However, the officers took possession of some documents, and I fear they now have evidence of our slave trafficking operations."

Reina stiffened in alarm. He must have been talking about her documents.

"My informants tell me the documents were dropped off at the local tax agency here in Trolis. Most likely no one has even looked at them yet, for the tax agents never work past sundown. Do we have anyone in that office who owes us a favor? That would make my job easier?"

"Uh, what job is that, your Lordship?" asked Mr. Jamison, looking nervous, his eyes flicking again to Reina before he controlled himself.

Lord Bartow sighed as if explaining things to a child. "Well obviously I have to retrieve those documents tonight, because in the morning when a tax auditor sees them, they'll be paying a visit to our little operation here."

Reina let out a soft gasp, but only the bodyguard seemed to notice, for he looked down at her for a moment before returning his attention to the two men.

"And if I go down, you go down with me?" said Mr. Jamison, nodding as if he knew the answer.

Lord Bartow looked at him strangely. "You seem strangely calm at the prospect of being arrested," he observed.

Mr. Jamison's eyes went wide, realizing his mistake.

He isn't concerned because he has the documents

, thought Reina.

"I... I'm just... is there really a concern?" said Mr. Jamison. "You have a slave trading license, what can they do?"

"I do, yes, but..." said Lord Bartow, his suspicion replaced by sheepishness.

"But what?" said Mr. Jamison, his eyes narrowing.

"It is not easy maintaining a harem of 20 exotic girls, you know?" replied Lord Bartow, defensively.

Reina frowned, wondering what he meant.

"Sir," protested Mr. Jamison, his eyes narrowing. "You assured me you were going to keep it legal!"

"And I do... mostly," said Lord Bartow, defensive. "But... sometimes I come across this girl that I just have to have, you understand? The best ones don't usually want to be slaves, or think they don't. And... well, sometimes one of those girls happens to be say, a high ranking official's daughter?"

"Lord Bartow," exclaimed Mr. Jamison. "You enslaved a government official's daughter, involuntarily?"

Lord Bartow sighed. "It wasn't enslavement, the girl offered herself to me! After a little convincing of course... quite a bit of convincing, if I'm being honest..."

"Of course. So you got her to legally self enslave. Is the government going to see it that way? Is her father?" said Mr. Jamison.

"Regrettably no," sighed Lord Bartow. "I didn't do anything too illegal, but they won't care. They will shut me down, put me in jail for sure."

Mr. Jamison looked at him. "But they'd never be able to find out about her from one of my manifests."

"No," said Lord Bartow. "But I have many enemies among the slave trading business. They despise what we do, as you know. Letting slaves go free, it's taboo to slavers."

"But, they won't know, this is a government investigation," said Mr. Jamison.

Lord Bartow grimaced. "The slavers have their tentacles in the tax offices I'm afraid. If the Trolis office is on their payroll, as I have recently begun to suspect, they'll pull out all the stops in trying to bring me down, and you with me no doubt."

The hair on the back of Reina's neck stood at attention.

Could it be true, could slavers have someone in her office on their payroll?

She thought of her coworkers, who might have seemed suspicious. She immediately thought of her boss, Ellis. But he was harmless, a letch, but not a traitor and a spy.

"Damnit, if they have someone in the tax office..." said Mr. Jamison, finally understanding the situation. "So... what are you going to do?"

"That's why I brought my best men," smiled Lord Bartow. "They're going to break into the office and retrieve those documents tonight."

"What?" said Mr. Jamison. "You're serious?"

"Why not?" said the man, smiling. "The tax offices are empty at night, and the incriminating documents are likely in the mailbox, easy to find."

Reina had been standing there quietly, bound in the ropes, watching the two men with growing trepidation. Now Lord Bartow was talking about breaking into her office. And of course the documents his men would be seeking wouldn't be there, for she'd brought them to Mr. Jamison's office! What was she supposed to do? What had seemed like a simple plan was growing out of control. She should have known better.

"You don't have to break in," said Mr. Jamison suddenly, glancing over at Reina before looking at Lord Bartow. "I have the documents you're looking for already."

Lord Bartow's smile disappeared, replaced by a confused frown. "You do? How?"

"We have someone inside the tax office who alerted us, and brought us the documents," said Mr. Jamison. "They're on the table in my office."

"You have someone... why, you sly dog!" exclaimed the older man. Then his eyes narrowed as his relief turned to suspicion. "So when were you going to tell me about this?"

Mr. Jamison looked nervous. "I... I was just going to discretely destroy them."

Lord Bartow frowned, then suddenly he laughed. "Don't trust me do you. Well, in any case, I'm thrilled to hear you've solved my problem for me."

Mr. Jamison sighed with relief and nodded. Reina wasn't sure how to feel. Perhaps she should have just destroyed the documents herself, then none of this would have happened. She'd be at home at her father's estate, relaxing instead of tied up and gagged in a sex slave training room.

Then Lord Bartow's expression turned serious. "But I have another issue, and this one is your problem. Remember those two slaves you auctioned off anonymously using my membership at the Auction House?" he said.

Mr. Jamison froze, glancing suddenly in Reina's direction, and she looked between the two men.

Auction House?

"Well the buyer is not happy, says the two girls were tricked into thinking they'd be free."

"Uhh," said Mr. Jamison nervously. "They

were

free'd, what are you talking about?"

Lord Bartow laughed at him. "Is that what you told them? Look, I don't care what you tell your slave girls, but I'm a member of the Auction House, and now they're giving me a hard time because you used my membership to trick those girls into slavery."

Mr. Jamison suddenly grabbed Lord Bartow by the arm, whispering. "Can we discuss this privately?"

"Privately?" said Lord Bartow. "Why?" Then he looked at Reina, whose eyes were huge and starting at them above her gag.

"Ahh, I see," said Lord Bartow, bursting out in laughter. "You told this little Oriental girl that she was going home too. Are you planning to keep her for yourself? Why you sly little devil!" He turned to look at Reina. "I'm not surprised, she is just your type," he added, nodding.

Reina let out a muffled cry, her eyes going wide. Lord Bartow chuckled. "Sorry, honey, Jamison lied to you. You see, he does rescue girls like he told you, we both do. It's a terrific way to attract beautiful innocent young ladies, who think they're going to be rescued. And most of them get their wish, don't get me wrong, but it's the best way to get a great selection of slave girls to choose from. If we see one we really like? Well, she's gonna be a slave, whether she wants to or not. Oh, now, don't look so upset. We're still doing a good thing right? Most slavers wouldn't let anyone go free. Sometimes you have to take a little bad with the good, right?"

Reina mewled into her gag, shaking her head in denial.

Mr. Jamison was a slaver? All those things he'd said, they were all lies!

She glared at Mr. Jamison.

"It's not true, don't listen to him!" said Mr. Jamison, holding up his hands.

Lord Bartow laughed. "Why are you lying to her? She's bound, wearing the collar, why the pretense? By the time her gag is removed, she could be parading her lovely curves on stage at the Auction House."

Reina suddenly felt light headed.

What was going on? Was Mr. Jamison going to enslave her? Did Deba know?

Her knees buckled as the room began to spin, and the bodyguard had to hold her up by his grip on her rope harness.

Lord Bartow ignored her and turned back to Jamison. "So where's this juicy prize headed? Auction House? Your personal slave? Can I buy her from you? She's magnificent!"

"She'll be set free, like I promised," said Mr. Jamison, looking at Reina as if he was trying to communicate something to her. She saw him gesture his head slightly to Lord Bartow, but she had no idea what he was trying to say... all she felt was anger and betrayal.

Lord Bartow looked at the obviously furious girl and laughed. "Ok, if you say so, but I think she still wants to burn you alive, look at that look she's giving you," he said, pointing at Reina. "Why is that, I wonder? You know what? I want to hear what she has to say to you," he added, suddenly taking a step toward her and reaching up for Reina's gag.

"No, don't!" shouted Mr. Jamison, but Lord Bartow ignored him, undoing the straps of Reina's gag and then pulling it out of her mouth with a wet plop.

"You bastard!" hissed Reina at Mr. Jamison, using her tongue to try to wipe away the drool that had accumulated around her lips. "How could you!" she flexed her jaw, sore from being pried open for so long.

Lord Bartow chuckled. "Oh, he is a bastard, sweetheart, I agree!"

Reina couldn't contain her anger. "Mr. Jamison, I trusted you!" she cried. "When I get back to the..." Reina stopped herself when she saw Mr. Jamison look at her sharply. She'd almost mentioned her office, that would have been a disaster.

"No one is selling you," blurted Mr. Jamison, trying to tamp down on her anger.

Lord Bartow was looking at her strangely. "That's quite a reaction... are you... a friend of the family, girl?" he said to Reina. She noticed he'd stopped calling her a slave.

Mr. Jamison spoke up before she could answer. "Yes, sir, she's... a friend of Deba's. The silly girl wanted to dress up as a slave, and... well, we didn't want to anger you, bringing a free female onto the docks..."

But Lord Bartow was still looking at Reina oddly. "You know, from the first time I saw her, she looked familiar. And just now it finally came to me."

Reina stiffened, her eyes wide in fear. Could he have recognized her from somewhere? Did he know she was a tax agent? Her legs suddenly felt weak. Lord Bartow was walking around, looking at her from different angles, his hand on his chin. Finally, he spoke.

"I couldn't place it, because your mother had much lighter hair and fair skin," said Lord Bartow, his intense look beginning to morph into a grin, as he continued to walk around Reina. "You have your father's Oriental skin tone and your dark silky hair is decidedly Oriental... but you have your mother's lips and her magnificent figure. And the eyes, brown and almond shaped, Oriental for sure... but I see your mother's scorn in your eyes, I'll never forget that look."

Reina froze, her mind in shock. She barely remembered her mother, for she'd been a young girl when her mother had self enslaved. She only knew the story her father had told her, that her mother had chosen to be a slave, and been shipped off on a slave ship, never to be seen again. She saw Mr. Jamison gesturing to her surreptitiously, so that the Lord couldn't see. He was making a silencing motion. Did he want her to keep silent for some reason? But Reina had to know.

"You knew my mother?" she inquired of Lord Bartow, her eyes skeptical. "How?"

Lord Bartow paused for a long moment, then his mouth widened in a mirthless smile. "So... you

are

the daughter... I wasn't certain; thank you for confirming my suspicions."

"I don't know that. All I know is that my mother self enslaved when I was very young," said Reina, not understanding his meaning. "I barely remember her."

Lord Bartow nodded, still smiling at her in that way that made her skin crawl. "Yes, she did, were you told why?"

Again Reina glanced over at Mr. Jamison, who looked agitated, and was subtly shaking his head. Reina ignored him, still angry at hearing of his enslavement of women. "My father said she wanted to be a slave," said Reina, shrugging. "I always assumed it was her only way of getting away from my father."

"Your father knew nothing of how to please a woman. He bored her," said Lord Bartow. Reina scowled at him. She and her father had their differences, but this man had no right to insult him.

Suddenly Mr. Jamison stepped between them, raising his hands. "Lord Bartow, the girl doesn't want to be reminded of such things, and I really must be getting back to work. I ask that you please take your leave at this late hour."

Lord Bartow's eyes left Reina's and he looked at Mr. Jamison. "The poor girl lost her mother at an early age. I think she deserves to know the truth, don't you?"

"Truth? What truth," retorted Mr. Jamison, angrily. "Please stop this nonsense, it is very late."

"Please, tell me, sir!" blurted Reina, taking a step to the left of Mr. Jamison so she could directly look at Lord Bartow. "What truth?"

Mr. Jamison turned to grab her, but Lord Bartow was already speaking.

"Your lovely mother fell in love with our dear Mr. Jamison here," he said, grinning as he watched both of their reactions: shock on Reina's face, and a painful look on the face of Mr. Jamison, which told Reina he was telling the truth.

"He was such a handsome young fellow," continued Lord Bartow, "no offense to your father."

"Lord Bartow!" interjected Mr. Jamison. "This... is a private matter, she doesn't need to know this!"

"She was my mother!" shouted Reina angrily. "Did you seduce her, is that it? And she was so ashamed she self enslaved?" Reina was livid, imagining her poor mother's shame.

Lord Bartow chuckled. "Oh, it's so much worse than that," he began. "He seduced her, introduced her to pleasures she could never have imagined, and then when she confessed her love, he told her that she could only be with him if she were a slave."

"W-what?" croaked Reina, looking at Mr. Jamison in shock. He had that same pained look on his face that told her the ugly truth. "Mr. Jamison, tell me that's not true!"

"She loved Mr. Jamison here so much that she self enslaved, on a one month lease," said Lord Bartow. "Mr. Jamison purchased her directly from your father." He raised his hands when he saw Reina's look of horror. "Do not be too hard on your father, my dear. The alternative was for your mother to go to auction at the Auction House, from which he'd never see her again. He made the less unthinkable choice."

"My mother? How could you?" Reina spat at Mr. Jamison. "You bastard!"

Lord Bartow chuckled. "You cannot understand my dear, how desirable your mother looked, naked and chained, wearing a temporary slave collar. Our mutual friend could not resist taking her, training her thoroughly. After a few weeks of training, he was kind enough to let me sample her. I'll never forget that night. She was exquisite, a true natural. I used her thoroughly, in every way possible."

Reina was shaking her head in denial. "Y-you?? You and... my mother... no... no it can't be..."

"It is the truth," replied Lord Bartow. "She was motivated by love, and a natural affinity for the collar. It is common for a slave trainer to offer his slave to be used by another man, as a test of her training. A slave must not just love her owner, she must be a slave at heart, eager to serve any master. But I think your mother only did these things because it was the only way she could be with the man she loved."

"What happened after the 30 days?" breathed Reina, her heart thumping in her chest.

Lord Bartow shrugged. "Our mutual friend sent her back to your father, and refused to see her, since she was no longer a slave."

"Oh my god!" gasped Reina. "A--after all that, he... still didn't want to be with her???"

"Not when she was a free woman," said Lord Bartow.

Mr. Jamison had been quiet the entire time, but he suddenly spoke up, looking at Reina, his expression pained. "I thought she would renounce her freedom after that. She loved being a slave for that month... I wanted to buy her permanently." His shoulders visibly slumped and his voice dropped. "I made a mistake."

Lord Bartow continued for him. "He underestimated your mother, my dear. Spurned again, and too ashamed to return to her life with your father, she walked right into the Auction House and enslaved herself. Your father received a visit from one of their agents, a bag of silver in hand, and her enslavement papers. By that time he got the news, she was already on a slave ship bound for the Orient, where her fair skin would be most prized. That's irony. Your father came from the Orient to find your mother, and she was shipped back there without him."

"I hate you!" cried Reina, almost spitting the words at Mr. Jamison. "You... did this to my mother! And... and all this time, you acted like a father to me!"

Mr. Jamison looked so pained that Reina hesitated, waiting for him to respond. He finally sighed, turning to face her. "I looked after you... to honor your mother... if only she'd talked to me before she'd gone to the Auction House..."

Reina held her breath, confused. He seemed sincere, and he'd always treated her with respect... until that night anyway. Her mother had betrayed her as well, leaving her alone with her father when she was a small child. At that moment, Reina realized Lord Bartow was looking at her strangely, his hand in chin as if in thought. When he saw her looking at him, he suddenly smiled.

"You know, come to think of it, our mutual friend Mr. Jamison has mentioned you before..." he was saying. She glanced over at Mr. Jamison, and saw the realization in his eyes.

"Lord Bartow, don't!" barked Mr. Jamison, holding up his hands.

Lord Bartow's smile spread. "Yes, it's all coming back to me. He once mentioned his long lost slave had a daughter. Young, beautiful, innocent, a real Prime grade female. He said as a school girl you were smitten with him," he continued, drawing an embarrassed gasp from Reina. She hadn't realized it was obvious to Mr. Jamison. "'Naturally submissive, Oriental both in appearance, and in temperament," he said," drawled Lord Bartow, enjoying the shocked expressions on the faces of Reina and Mr. Jamison. "A natural born pleasure slave who doesn't know it, weren't those your words?"