Tracey's Slave Shop

A few days after that meeting of the Titalin club, two young women came into my shop. More accurately, one of them came into the shop, and the other was clearly not happy to be dragged along behind her. The second girl had her hands cuffed behind her back, and was wearing a rudimentary gag made with a bandana, but despite these restraints she was putting up as much of a fight as she was able, given her current predicament. This sort of scene was my bread and butter.

"My name is Jessica," said the first girl, "and I want to sell this COW into slavery." The second girl continued fighting.

"She does not seem to want to be sold into slavery," I said, considering. "What exactly is your relationship with her."

"She's my sister."

"Well, then, let's see what she has to say," I said.

"What difference does it make," asked Jessica, incredulously. "She's a slave anyway."

I ignored her as I untied the other girl's bandana. The moment she was once again able to speak, she shouted "I am NOT a slave!"

"Oh really?" I replied, "your sister says you are."

"I don't care," replied the girl firmly. "In fact, I want to sell HER as a slave."

I turned to Jessica. "Well this is an interesting predicament," I said, "two girls each want to sell each other. But whose claim should prevail?"

"What are you talking about!?" demanded Jessica. "I brought her here as my slave. That should be the end of it."

"Nonsense," I said. "It doesn't work that way. You can't just grab any random woman from off the street, tie her up, and bring her in here and say she's your slave. She either needs to volunteer, or you need to have a special relationship with her."

"She's my sister," said Jessica firmly.

"And you are her sister. So, by the same logic, she should be able to sell you."

"Yeah," said the other woman, with real enthusiasm. "And I want to sell my selfish bitch sister."

"Mom put ME in charge," said Jessica, with the beginnings of real concern. It obviously wasn't going the way she thought it would.

"So you live with your mother," I said. That fact had a great deal of significance. Since there were few good jobs available for young, single women, it was not unusual for them to continue to live with their mothers after they are grown. While such a living arrangement saved money, it also meant that the mother had legal authority over them until they became economically independent.

"I suppose we will have to find out how she wants to handle this," I said. "What is her name and number?"

"You know," said Jessica, "on second thought, maybe we don't need to do this after all. Come on Emily, let's go."

"No way," said the other girl -- Emily. "Mom's gonna find out about this." I handed Emily a pen and a pad of paper, and she started writing down their mother's contact information.

"Well Emily, you can stay here if you want, but I'm out of here," said Jessica, as she headed toward the door.

Before Jeessica made it to the front door of the shop, I pressed a button hidden under the counter and the door and the front door locked. Jessica tried to open it, but the door would not budge. I then pressed another button to activate the intercom. "Maxine and Betty, to the showroom."

Maxine and Betty are two very special slave girls who belong to the shop. They are completely loyal to me because, unlike any owner either of them had ever had before, I provide them the one thing they both crave above everything else: women to dominate. The harsher they get to treat their victims, and the more they humiliate them, the more aroused Maxine and Betty get. Such women are a rare find, but when I do come across them I always put them to good use.

When Maxine and Betty were not doing some job for me, they usually spent most of their free time either exercising or sparring with one another. At the moment, they were wearing tight-fitting spandex shorts and halter tops -- outfits that simultaneously emphasized their generous feminine attributes while also calling attention to their firm muscles.

"Bring that girl to me," I ordered, and the two fierce women curtseyed before walking up to Jessica and picking her up off the ground and carrying her back to the counter. Jessica must have quickly realized that any attempt to resist them would be futile, since she allowed herself to be carried.

"Now," I continued, "undress her."

Jessica DID try and fight that, but she didn't have a chance. Betty held Jessica, while Maxine removed her clothes. They were well practiced at this, and they worked together as an efficient team. I saw that while Maxine was removing Jessica's panties, her finger slipped into Jessica's pussy. It was only briefly, but Jessica's reaction was immediate and visible. So was Emily, who was clearly enjoying seeing Jessica being abused in this manner.

I would have to have words about this with Maxine, but later. It would not do to present anything less than a united front in front of these girls.

"I am going to keep both of you here until I get in touch with your mother and she decides what to do with you," I began, but Emily interrupted me.

"That sounds good to me," said Emily. "She'll sell Jessica, I know she will. And I'll get her room."

"Maybe," I said. "Now, take off your clothes."

Emily glanced at Jessica, who was already nude. A moment, and then it dawned on her.

"What, ME!? Why? I'll cooperate."

"Look sweetcakes, I don't have time to argue. Do you want to take off your clothes, or should Betty here do it for you?" Betty grinned, as I knew she would like nothing more than to forcibly strip this girl. But it wasn't necessary. With obvious reluctance, Emily began to undress.

"Put them in Observation Cell three, and then come to my office," I said, and Betty and Maxine moved to comply. The observation cells surrounded showroom. The wall of the cell facing the showroom was a pane of one-way plexiglass, allowing anybody in the showroom to see the girl inside, but preventing the girl from seeing outside. Emily and Jessica were not for sale -- at least not yet -- but they would be entertaining for the customers.

I waited for Betty and Maxine in my office. Once they entered, I began my next chore.

"Maxine," I said sharply, "What did I tell you to do with Jessica?"

"You told me to undress her, Mistress," replied Maxine, unconcerned.

"Correct," I said. "Did I tell you to stick your finger into her pussy?"

Realization dawned on her. She dipped her head down. "No Mistress."

I walked up to her, and spoke softly, with my face mere centimeters from hers. I learned this long ago: When dealing with slaves, particularly if they are physically bigger and stronger than you are, you cannot show even the slightest sign of intimidation. THEY should be intimidated by YOU, not the other way around.

"I might have wanted to sell her as a virgin," I said. "Did you think of that?"

"No Mistress," she barely whispered, her voice quivering.

"But I can't now, can I? Because you decided to stick your filthy fingers up her twat. Does that twat belong to you?"

"No Mistress," she replied, again in a whisper. I grabbed her by the neck and lifted her head up.

"I can't hear you."

"NO Mistress."

I released her neck and took half a step back. "Take off your clothes," I ordered, "you are going to stay nude for a while, until you earn the privilege again." Maxine scrambled to comply.

Once she was undressed, I ordered her to bend over the desk, and delivered twenty swats to her ass with a paddle I keep near my desk. Then, I told Betty to finish punishing Maxine.

"I am going to come back later and inspect Maxine, and if I am not satisfied that she has been punished sufficiently, I will have words with you."

"Yes Mistress," she said enthusiastically.

It was as if I had just given Betty a gift. She grabbed Maxine's arm and let her out of the office. Meanwhile, I consulted the note Emily had written for me, and telephoned the girls' mom. My We conversation with her was very brief, as she seemed to want to deal with me in person rather than by telephone, so I hung up and busied myself with paperwork.

There is a great deal of paperwork that comes with running a slave shop: Accounting records, registration paperwork, inventory, licensing, and the like. Plus, there is physical work involved in processing, caring for, and disciplining the girls themselves. I really need an assistant. Actually, I need several assistants, but that is far easier said than done. I cannot hire a male assistant. Were I to try, he would never accept the authority of a woman boss. Instead, he would try to take control of the shop. To be perfectly honest, he would probably succeed, since for me the temptation to submit to him would probably be very hard to resist. I wanted to keep my shop, so a man was not an option.

But free women were a problem too, as many of them had trouble accepting the authority of a woman. Plus, most women were unsuitable for this sort of work. So, I ran the shop more or less by myself. The only thing that stopped the work from being completely overwhelming was the fact that I always had a few slaves around to handle the menial tasks. Betty and Maxine, for example, were a great help when it came to discipline, and I also had some girls watching the sales floor while I worked in the office. But there were certain things that one could not delegate to a slave.

The intercom on my desk buzzed, and one of the girls I had behind the counter on the sales floor spoke. "Nancy Evans is here, and she has asked to speak to you."

Nancy Evans was a de-facto leader of the Titalin Club. I had no idea why she was coming to see me now, but whatever it was, it was definitely going to be the sort of business that I would have to handle personally.

"Send her back," I replied.

"Yes, Mistress."

A moment later, the girl held my office door open for Nancy, who walked in and sat down without an invitation as if it were her own office. The arrogance of that woman!

"Have a seat, by all means," I said, somewhat ironically. "What can I do for you today?"

Just as Nancy was about to speak, the intercom on my desk buzzed again. I immediately responded, cutting Nancy off.

"Yes?"

"Anna Williams is here, Mistress."

Anna Williams was the mother of Jessica, who had shown up to the shop trying to sell her sister Emily into slavery. Just now, Jessica and Emily were on display in an Observation cell for their mother to come decide what to do with them. I didn't have time for this right now.

"Have her wait there," I replied, "I will see her shortly."

"Please wait in my office for just a few minutes, Nancy," I said. "There is a matter I have to attend to."

I left Nancy in my office and went to the back, where I found a completely nude Maxine hanging by her ankles from a set of shackles I had chained to the ceiling. Betty was beating her with a small cane, and although Maxine was trying her best not to react to the punishment Betty was inflicting on her, she could not help but let out the occasional cry of pain. I could see that Betty was enjoying every single bit of this, as would Maxine if the situation was reversed.

As soon as Betty saw me come in, she stopped the beating, turned to me, and curtseyed. I ignored her and approached Maxine, making a show of inspecting her marks. I ran my nails over some of them, testing Maxine's ability to keep quiet as a scratched her already irritated flesh.

"You did a thorough job, Betty," I said. "Good girl."

Betty grinned. "Thank you, Mistress."

"Have you learned your lesson, Maxine?"

"Yes Mistress,"

"See that you do," I said. "Now, get Maxine down, and get her dressed. I want the two of you to go out to the sales floor and escort Anna Williams to the Secure Waiting Room."

"Yes, Mistress," replied Betty, as she curtsied. She immediately went to work on lowering the chains so she could release Maxine's ankles.

The Secure Waiting Room was something of a misnomer: It was actually a holding cell, but it was furnished with sofas and magazines, so that it would appear to be a waiting room to any casual observer. However, anybody entering this "waiting room" would hear the loud, ominous "click" of a steel door shutting and locking behind her once she entered, and then she would not be able to leave until I decided to release her. On her way to this "waiting room," Anna would walk past Observation Cell three and see her two daughters, Jessica and Emily, nude and on display. Maxine and Betty would not, of course, permit her more than the briefest of glances. When those two are told to escort a woman to a specific place, that is where she goes and no dawdling.

I left them to it, and returned to my office.

Nancy was looking impatient, but I ignored her non-verbal protestations and sat down behind my desk, pretending the interruption had never happened.

"So what can I do for you?" I asked once again.

"Debbie came to talk to me the other day," began Nancy, "and she's upset about the what happened at our last Titalin Club. She wants me to do something."

Debbie had been humiliated by the new initiate, Alicia, who had tricked her into thinking she was under the influence of Titalin. I thought it was strange that Nancy should be here on Debbie's behalf, though, since Nancy had participated in mocking Debbie just as enthusiastically as any of the other women. Something wasn't adding up here.

"There is nothing to do," I replied. "You and the other women might have had a bit of fun at her expense, but it was a fair game. And in any case, it was all forgotten once Samantha went down."

"There is a proper way to do these things," said Nancy -- as if she were some sort of authority on the matter. "I told Debbie I would make things right. So, I want you to make sure Alicia gets the Titalin next time we meet."

"Why would I do that?" I asked. "Titalin Club has always been a fair contest. You are going to have to deal with Alicia some other way."

"I could make it worth your while," said Nancy.

"Oh, and how would you do that?" I asked.

"As you know, I have a substantial inheritance. Name your price."

Now THAT was intriguing. Not the bribe -- women have tried to bribe me before. Just that she should be so desperate that I should cooperate in this scheme.

"This shop," I began, "earns more than enough money to meet my needs. And if I started taking these sorts of bribes, where would it end? What interests me, though, is why you would do this for Debbie. Why not simply let Debbie come to me herself and ask for this favor?"

Nancy looked uncomfortable, and hesitated a bit. "Debbie is my friend," she said. An obvious lie.

"I don't think so," I said. "I think you just want to become a power broker. The go-to girl for favors, who can pull strings for people and get this girl or that enslaved. You want Debbie to owe you one."

"Suppose I do," said Nancy. "I told you, all you have to do is name your price. I have plenty of money."

"My price isn't money." I said. "If you want a favor from me, then I need a favor from you."

"Name it," said Nancy.

"You might have heard, the Department for Education has announced a new policy under which Girls' Academies are authorized to sell all girls who fail their exams." Girls' Academies were institutions that had emerged shortly after the passage of the Female Slavery Act. They taught feminine etiquette, basic domestic skills, rudimentary office skills and other generally accepted "feminine" skills to girls who had graduated from Secondary School and did not have the money or the family connections to get into University. The idea was to prepare them for the few jobs that were still generally available to free women. They tended to enforce a regime of strict discipline among their students, similar to what one might expect in a reform school.

"Yes I have, and I think it is a good motivator. Not to mention a bit of a boost for your business."

"Unfortunately," I continued, "Diana Wilson, the director of Eastfield Girls' Academy, has chosen not to implement this policy, which is unfortunate, as I was hoping for the contract."

"You want me to talk to her?" asked Nancy.

Some power broker SHE is -- the last thing I wanted was for Nancy to "talk to" Diana.

"No," I said. "I want her daughter, Beatrice. She is attending University in Sussex. Bring Beatrice Wilson to the shop, and I will handle the rest."

There was absolutely no chance Nancy would be able to convince Beatrice Wilson to come into my shop. Her mother was adamantly opposed to the very idea of female slavery, and she would have passed those values along to her daughter. But the attempt would get back to Diana, and it would frighten her, which would be useful. Meanwhile, Nancy will have failed in her task, and I would maintain the integrity of Titalin Club.

"I will do it," agreed Nancy, apparently unaware of the impossibility of the task she had just taken on. We sealed our bargain with a handshake.

Meanwhile, Maxine and Betty were standing guard outside of the Secure Waiting Room, where Anna Williams was waiting for me. This was quite unnecessary, as the door to the Secure Waiting Room could not be opened from the inside once it was closed, but it meant they would be conveniently on hand if I should need them for some reason. I told Maxine to open the door, and I went inside.

"Hello Miss Williams, I am Tracey Smith, the proprietress of this establishment. I hope these two have kept you comfortable," I said, despite knowing that the opposite was likely true. Making women comfortable was not where Maxine and Betty's tallents lied.

"Yes, they've been fine," said Anna quickly. "What have you done with my girls?"

"I assure you, Miss Williams, your girls are unharmed. I am simply holding them for their own safety, until you can decide how you wish to dispose of them."

"I just want to take them home," said Anna. "This has been a terrible misunderstanding."

I put my hand up. "No misunderstanding Miss Williams, I assure you. Your daughter Jessica, quite willingly, tied Emily up and brought her here to sell her. Which is her right, as a qualifying relative. Emily then made a claim on Jessica, which is equally her right. I simply need you to decide the matter."

"I don't believe you. I told Jessica never to come near any of these kinds of places," exclaimed Anna.

"I assure you it is," I said. I then picked up a remote from the table near the sofa, and a television screen emerged from the wall. There, I played back the video of Jessica bringing in a tied-up Emily.

"I can't believe this! I raised her better than that! I'll kill her!"

"No need to kill her," I said, "just leave her with me."

"Well, you can have her!" said Anna. "She's no daughter of mine if she wants to sell her sister."

"That is perfectly understandable," I said. "Although, Emily's behavior has not been exemplary either."

"What did she do, to justify what Jessica did?"

I played the video of Emily saying "I want to sell my selfish bitch sister" directly me, and I could see Anna turning red.

"That's IT!" she exclaimed. "Sell both of them. They're more trouble than they're worth anyway!"

"I thought you might see it that way," I said. "Unfortunately, I do not have the authority to sell them, as they are not yet slaves. You are going to have to enslave them yourself."

"What do I sign?" asked Anna.

"It isn't a matter of signing something. You have to render them compliant, and willing to accept commands from both from me and from whoever might buy them. Otherwise, they will not be worth anything as slaves. And you do that with this,"

I pulled out two syringes from my bag and handed them over to Anna.

"Each of these syringes are filled with enough Titalin to permanently render any girl completely compliant and receptive to commands. Once you have injected them, they will be yours, and you can do with them as you will. Then, you can sell them to me, and I will give you a good price."