Sex Slaves Enormous Problem Pt 02

I awoke to an empty bed. The maids were cleaning around me and once they saw I was awake they gave me a brief nod in the direction of the shower. I took that as a hint. Once I was clean and re-robed I made my way back to my room. I expected to be immediately assaulted by Kinsey in addition to a barrage of questions but instead, glorious silence. It was about lunch time so I it was likely everyone would be in the dining hall. I dressed in dark green trousers and a grey t-shirt then made my way down. I was starving.

"Well, if it isn't the 'mystery client's', girl" one of the others teased.

The women sat around several round tables dressed in various sleepwear. I saw Kinsey roll her eyes from across the room and I wandered over. Sitting in a high-backed wooden chair, my hands resting on the matching table, I noticed the dark circles under her eyes. Before I could say anything she interrupted my thoughts.

"Tell me everything!" she demanded with one of her sly smiles, her grey eyes going wide, full of mischief, a perfectly manicured hand resting under her chin.

So I proceeded to tell her about the evening. She only interrupted occasionally with an "Oh my goodness" or "No way!" as I nibbled on some pastry's and sipped my coffee.

My tale concluded, she sat frowning at me. "You like him!" she declared in a harsh whisper.

"A little" I admitted softly. "It's difficult not to, he was so...different."

"Well, maybe he'll come back?" she added hopefully with jealousy simmering in the words. The conflict was obvious in her inflection.

"Maybe..."

"Deema?" A voice called from across the room.

The Superior stood with her arms folded. She looked frazzled, not like her usual self at all. I walked over and she leaned towards me. "You need to come with me hon." she said appearing apologetic.

This did not feel right at all. Trepidation started in the pit of my stomach. Usually, if we had misbehaved her manner was furious, as if we had let her down personally. If we were to move on to another house she would be happy or sad depending on if she liked us, but this... I didn't know, at all. I followed because that was the only choice. Glancing at Kinsey, she gave me a look of curious concern with one perfect eyebrow raised. I shrugged.

We arrived at the doors of the main office a few moments later, where the owner of the house resided on her visits. Rarely seen, the mistress was from a High family with a reputation for having some amazing business acumen and a hell of a temper; one of us meeting with her never meant anything good. I really hoped I wasn't going in there.

"Stay here." the Superior ordered.

She knocked and then entered the huge oak door. I stood in bare feet, hovering at the doors. There must be soundproofing or something because not even a murmur escaped once those doors closed. The sinking feeling that started in the dining hall was getting more intense every second. After several minutes I started pacing, the dark emerald of the flooring catching the sunlight, shining like a mirror in places. After what seemed like forever the doors opened and the Superior emerged looking bleak. Not good. Very not good.

"Deema, you're going to be working downstairs for a while" she stated in a monotone voice. My face must have shown my shock because she reached out and rubbed my arm gently.

"...what?" my voice was a whisper, all propriety dropped as my thoughts start to spin.

"I am so sorry. I'm not sure for how long it's going to be but I'm doing my best to get to the bottom of it." she added, confusion crossing her mature features, the lines on her forehead deepening.

My silence extends from seconds into minutes, the room spinning.

"You can stay in your existing accommodation but until further notice, you'll be downstairs in the Silver room."

"Silver?!" my voice comes out harsh and she winces. I stagger backwards and wince as well as my back hits the mounds in the wall coverings.

"I'm not saying I agree Deema. This...there is something is going on, I really don't understand but you can stay with Kinsey and I'm going to get this sorted out." she leaned against the wall with a sigh.

It looks more like the wall is keeping her upright, her cerulean blouse puckering as her arms rest under her large breasts, her black trousers creasing where they touch the wall panelling. Her customary professionalism is gone, narrowed eyes showing her exhaustion.

"Go back to breakfast. Tonight, report to Silver and try to remain calm." She leans forward and whispers "It seems like punishment I know, I suppose it is...for what? If I knew I'd tell you."

She raises her hand to her face as if she can scrub away the weariness, the other hand flicks in my direction in a dismissive gesture.

The shock starts to dissipate as I head to my room. Superior said to go back to breakfast, however, I know Kinsey will ask what happened and I need to think. What did I possibly do to warrant this? Silver... I shudder at the thought. I enter our luxurious room but fail to feel calm as usual. I sit on our soft maroon overstuffed sofa and wrap my green and grey patchwork blanket around myself. I start to think over the last few weeks. I analyse every thought and action trying to figure out what went wrong. Everything up until last night was standard. Normal. It must be something that happened with that mystery client. I did everything I was told to do, maybe I shouldn't have stayed? Nobody said not to. Nobody told me what to do if that request happened; how can she punish me for something I wasn't informed of?

My panic turns quickly to anger. Then back to fear as the words 'Silver Room' flash in and out of my thoughts. Kinsey arrives back but I couldn't say how long it has been. She takes one look at me and asks,

"What happened Dee?"

She trots urgently but elegantly over to me and takes a seat on the sofa across from mine. Tucking her long smooth legs under her chin and wrapping her arms around them. I explain what's just happened and she just stares for several minutes.

"Dee...Silver..." her eyes filling with unshed tears.

"I know Kins', What I am going to do. I can't...I won't survive that. "My own tears spilling down my cheeks. The anger turning to despair. Kinsey's mood turns to fervent anger.

"No! This isn't right. You didn't do anything!" she rises and starts to pace around the room.

"I don't think I have a cho-ice..." My voice breaking.

Time was wearing on, though we had a few hours until the workday began. At the moment, starting time was dusk. The clients would begin to arrive and the girls would line up for inspection. Not me though, not tonight.

"What have you heard about it? The only things I know are awful. They have to be exaggerating, right?" I say hopefully to Kinsey who visibly winces.

She takes her seat back across from me, runs her hands down her high ponytail in a nervous gesture and leans forward on the edge of the seat.

"I've heard that once girls go down there they don't come back. Too broken. Too damaged for the normal stuff." She says quickly, no tone, no inflexion. That makes it almost worse.

"B-broken" I squeak. I have to take a deep shuddering breath. Then another.

Kinsey just stares at the floor. After several silent minutes, I look at her and like she can sense it, she looks up and meets my eyes.

"The Superior said that I can stay here with you, so maybe it won't be that bad? Maybe it's like horror stories to keep us good?"

Kinsey looks at me and starts shaking her head.

"Dee. I heard the guy who uses Silver most is twisted. He likes it when we don't want it. That's why it's punishment."

My fear reaches an all-time high because that's basically what I'd heard. My stomach lurches and I run for the bathroom. As my breakfast makes an unpleasant reappearance, I feel a hand rub down my back. My hands gripping the clean, white toilet, I started to sob.

"What. Am. I. going. To. Do...?" each word punctuated by a dry heave.

"What can you do Dee?" she whispers, still rubbing my back and passing me toilet paper.

"Nothing." I choke out. The realisation of the inevitable hitting me like a wall.

Kinsey, sensing my change from panicked to numb, leans back against the wall.

"Okay. Here's what I know Dee. This guy won't care, won't ask and will just do whatever. You have to stay strong alright? My girl, you have to come back in one piece. You can do this, I know you can. I'll try to get to the bottom of it, ask around 'n that but you need to come back to me okay?"

I nod. She's right. I still feel numb but Kinsey knows the life, we made plans that we'll get out together, so I grab hold of that hope and steel myself.

Minutes later, I'm in the bath and happily washing off the stresses of the morning. My smile is still non-existent and as I catch sight of myself in the reflection of the black bath tiles, I can see the deep bruising of emotional exhaustion under my big blue eyes. My pale skin is flushed with the heat from the bath and my full breasts covered with bubbles. I do the usual preparation, shave what needs to be shaved and wash thoroughly. Kinsey has laid out one of my more striking outfits. The nude and black combo gives the illusion that there is less material than there actually is. With my porcelain skin, the nude blends seamlessly and it just looks like I have three tiny black squares covering my nipples and pussy. I know why she picked it, to make me feel in control, the illusion makes you feel secure but bare at the same time, makes me feel powerful. I take the time to curl my hair and pin it away from my face. The red of my hair contrasts wonderfully with the simple make-up, I have the impression it won't stay on for long. I add the standard waterproof mascara and added scarlet lipstick, which is unusual for me. I use a special sealant, which means it can't come off unless you use the remover.

Kinsey dressed in a one-piece and was going for sexy but see-through. The cream mesh had strategic lace sections for modesty but it was just for the illusion. The thing had almost no back or sides. Her nude platforms matched mine, both finishing the outfits to perfection. We stood side by side admiring our dual reflections. We looked spectacular. Kinsey's lithe frame was punctuated by the odd curve and mine was fuller, straining the material while looking completely edible. Well, I thought, if I'm going to hell I might as well look good. The dread had returned in my stomach but the inevitability of the situation didn't change. I'd walk into Silver with my head held high; in an amazing pair of shoes and take my unwarranted punishment as it was given. On my life, I was going to get through this and then I was going to get to the bottom of it all. Kinsey sprayed her perfume on and then turned and sprayed me. I flinched, startled.

"So when it gets fierce, you'll know I'm right upstairs." She said with a sad smile.

Kinsey had her ways but when it mattered, she was there. Yesterday she'd been jealous but today, today she was my closest friend. People bonded quickly in these places, it felt like I'd known her for years, not merely weeks. I stood tall, or as tall as I get, which isn't much. The additional five inches from the heels helped me feel better and then I walked down the corridor, past the assembling girls, down to the basement levels.

The descent brought back feelings akin to those on the walk I endured when my father handed me over to pay his debts. My heart was racing, my head spinning. My palms became sweaty, the rest of me following and I thanked whichever deity listened for waterproof make-up and deodorant. I arrived in the lower levels, the décor down here various shades of black, white and grey; nothing like the earthy tones used upstairs. The sleek doors of black, white and silver stood in stark contrast to the walls around them, purposely chosen to offset the colour of the individual door. I walked over to the dark grey door with the embossed title of 'Silver' at eye level in black and knocked.

A male maid opened the door, his black lace trousers highlighting the dark undertones in the grey shirt he wore. His blond hair hung straight around his ears, gelled back to form a flicked effect at the front. He dark eyes held mine for a few moments before he motioned for me to enter. I don't know what I was imagining but this was not it. It looked like one of the lounge rooms upstairs; sofas, tables and bar in the back. No windows but the lights on the wall gave the illusion they were there.

"Please sit." He said calmly.

I did, the dark leather of the chair sticking to my skin.

"What happens now?" I asked, my voice sounding stronger than I thought it would. Yay me.

"Someone will come. You will do as you are told and when you are dismissed you will leave at once. I will help you to get back to your room if you need it but that is the only time I can assist. Please do not ask me to help you as I cannot." His voice was firm and unwavering.

His words made my chest tighten. Need help to get to my room? Oh god... When I eventually found my voice again I asked, "What is your name?"

"Bren." He answered curtly, his straight posture flinching as the door to a side room opened.

I hadn't even noticed the door. A man strode in as though he owned the place, stopping at my chair. Thin and wiry, with a hunch that you only get from being beaten and abused for a long time, he turned to Bren and pointed at another door on the opposite wall. As Bren walked over, the man seemed to examine me and then nodded.

"Come with me." Bren whispered, motioning towards a third door.

I followed, my feet feeling like concrete blocks. We entered and my heart stopped. This was more like what I had imagined. The first thing that struck me was the colour, from stark black to bright white with a blood red contrast. The ruby red bondage rigging took up one entire side of the large space. I had no idea what most of the straps were used for but I had an awful feeling I'd soon find out. The rest of the room was smooth and sleek, just the odd seating area or table and I soon realised why. Bren pushed his hand on a wall panel and it slid open. The rest of the room was covered in such panels.

He pulls out a set of soft cuffs and motions me over to what looks like a pillow on the floor. My breathing gets faster and my pulse feels like it's in my throat.

"Please kneel with your hands behind your back" Bren's instruction is soft but firm.

Irrationally it's the first time I feel like bolting. His calm tone makes me want to run but the voice in my head knows I wouldn't get far and it advises otherwise. I feel like I'm going to be sick but the only thing in my stomach is the water I drank earlier. 'Please stay down,' I implore. My knees touch the soft fabric and I bring my hands around my back and Bren starts to put on the cuffs. The material is rough but flexible; I have room for movement, though not much. I can feel tears behind my eyes that I refuse to cry, if I start I might not stop. However unfair this is, I want to come back. The only other options are unknown, where would I end up? Going back to a lower house just isn't acceptable and I want to know why this is happening to me. Tears well in my eyes. No, no crying.

My shoulders already feel tight from the position, more than they should after a few minutes and I realise that I'm still recovering from last night... Was that only a day ago? It feels like a year. My insides still ache, so do my shoulders. My thoughts wander to the events of the day, it's been so busy and stressful I've ignored the twinges, now I'm feeling them all. Kneeling in heels is uncomfortable at the best of times, my ankles protest the position. Bren disappears from view and following a soft click he returns with a ball gag.

"Open," I am ordered.

This doesn't bode well. As I stretch my mouth wide to accommodate the rubber, I can taste the cleaning chemicals on my tongue. I focus on the door facing me, wondering who is going to come in.

The gag secure, Bren steps back and does a quick visual sweep around the room and nods.

"He will be here in a moment. Remember what I said and remember that you cannot leave until he deems it. Trying is futile, it will make things worse."

He nods again, opens his mouth to speak, stops and quickly goes to the back of the room. It seems like he disappears but there must be a partition or something. The silence that follows is deafening. Minutes feel like hours, there is no sound but my breathing. Then the door clicks, my head whips around and someone enters. Panic rises. The lights dim just as the door opens but the shape is definitely male. I close my eyes to regain my composure as the room has started to spin.

He gets closer and I can make out his swimmer's body under a perfectly cut suit. The suit is white I think. It changes from red to white as he moves past the walls under the lights. It's both beautiful and terrifying. It doesn't seem real. The man himself is of average height and as he passes by I realise his hair is almost the exact shade of his suit, pure white. The style is short and straight, flat to his head. As he comes over to me with something in his hand I get a look at his face and I'm frozen to the spot. He is like a sculpture, his face all hard lines, brutal and sharp. The white hair on his head is so stark that it makes him look like the Fae I've read about in books. It's unreal, like he's tainted with frost. The eyes just add to it, so pale grey they look almost white. He's an anomaly, just like me.

Those eyes keep me still. There is absolutely no emotion in them at all. I could be anyone, anything. His gaze passes over me like everything else in the room. In his hand is a crop, it's long and red and it looks sharp but I think that's a trick of the light. Before I realise what's happening Bren has emerged from his hiding place and is lifting me by my wrists, so I must move or get my shoulders dislocated. I stand without falling, which is a stroke of luck because my legs are numb. The blood rushing back to them starts shooting pains down my calves and I have to really think about how to walk. I have a cramp in my jaw and shoulders, moving at all is like fighting with my body. I'm propped with my back against a white X, which is part of a large structure and it's all the same shade as the glossy white walls. It's very disorientating. Bren unties my hands and they are now above my head attached to the structure, my legs too. I can already feel the shaking starting in my legs from the strain of everything. I probably won't be able to walk tomorrow if I get through this, maybe that will be the best case scenario. This place is so creepy. The smell is clean but it makes you think of why it was last cleaned. Nothing good comes to mind. My focus is pulled back to the room when my breasts are set free. My bra cut off.

Bren moves away from me just enough to cut off my panties and put them with the rest of the material that was once my outfit. My shaved pussy is now exposed to the room. Bren walks away, back to his hidden spot and the Client comes into view. Those hard eyes actually feel like they're seeing me now and the urge to run returns. His cold, gloved hand cups my chin as he moves my head from one side to the other like I'm a prize pony he's inspecting.

His grip is harsh and pinching. His fingers dig into my jaw. His hand releases me and my head bounces back into position with a hard snap, that's when I notice the holes in the floor. Oh my god is that a drain? As soon as I think about why there are drains in the floor the urge to run consumes me. I struggle against the restraints, the panic intense as every awful story I've ever heard floods my mind and I feel completely helpless.

I'm almost instantly shocked back into myself by the freezing water that hits my skin. I can barely breathe around the gag and the shaking begins in earnest. My eyes feel huge and wide as I stare at the client. He tilts his head slightly to the side but doesn't say a word, expression unchanged. It occurs to me that he hasn't spoken and neither has Bren since he came into the room. I start to moan around the gag. The red crop whistles by so fast I don't see it until he's retracting it. The pain on my thigh is like fire. He makes eye contact, shakes his head. No sound, got it. I close my eyes to get my breathing under control and feel something burning down my chest. My eyes fly open and the client is standing with a dripping candle. The pale wax almost invisible on my skin but the pain is razor-sharp after the cold water.