"I want EVERY LAST BIT of that scrubbed off, and you are not leaving here until she's IMMACULATE," I said sharply.
Two of the girls from Wifred's class had gotten a bit carried away, and marked Diana's skin with permanent marker. One of the markings was a crude drawing of a penis with a figure, supposedly representing Diana, bent over taking it from behind. Another was simply the word "twat," with yet another being the simple message "fuck me." ifred, to her credit, was happy to tell her girls that they had to remain with me in the shop until this matter was resolved, but to ensure they would not leave I made them undress and give their clothes to Betty. Betty was guarding them, and encouraging them with a riding crop she carried. Each girl had a bucket of cold soapy water and a rough sponge, with which she scrubbed Diana's skin until the markings disappeared.
In reality, all this did was irritate Diana's skin, which was already sensitive due to the treatment she received in processing.
While the girls were busily scrubbing, I spotted a woman in a business suit who seemed to be browsing the girls in the Observation Cells. Imagining herself in the same situation, I thought. I approached her.
"Hello, Miss," I said. "Do you see anything you find appealing?"
"No, thank you, just browsing," replied the woman.
"You know, if you wanted to spend a bit of time in one of those observation sells yourself, just to see what it feels like, I am sure it can be arranged," I said.
I could see that thought running through her head, and the slightest hint of a smile on her face. But I could also see the conscious effort to reject it.
"No, thank you, that won't be necessary," said the woman. "Actually, I was hoping you could direct me to a Ms. Tracey Smith."
"I am Tracey Smith," I replied. "How can I help you."
She looked around. "Is there some place private we could talk?"
"Certainly," I replied. "Let's go back to my office."
Once we were comfortably in the privacy of my office, I asked once again, "so, how can I help you?"
"My name is Cindy Shepard, and I am a supervisor at ABC insurance. I am up for a promotion soon, and need your help getting it."
I knew where this was going. She would want me to enslave some rival of hers at work. Why do so many people think I can just arbitrarily enslave random women whenever I like? Nevertheless, it was possible I might be able to do SOMETHING with this situation. If nothing else, I might be able to get Cindy and this other woman into a Slave Wrestling match.
"Who is your rival?" I asked.
"A man named David Jennings," replied Cindy.
"Then I am afraid you are out of luck," I said. "He will almost assuredly get the promotion, and he will become your boss. You would be well advised to accept that and hope they still let you be a supervisor."
"That is why I need your help," said Cindy. "I really need this promotion."
"And exactly what do you suggest I do?" I asked. Surely this girl was not foolish enough to think it would be possible to enslave a man. I mean, there's naive, and then there's ridiculous.
"The Vice-President, Mr. Thompson, is going to make the decision," said Cindy. "He has a wife -- a young girl, sort of a trophy wife type, but he absolutely adores her. I was hoping you could maybe hold her for a while, to make Mr. Thompson give me the promotion."
That was a horrible plan!
"Let me understand this," I said, "you want me to kidnap the wife of a senior executive of a powerful insurance company, and somehow blackmail him into choosing a woman over a man for a management position? Do realize how dangerous that would be?"
"I can make it worth your while," said Cindy.
I considered the matter for a moment. Perhaps I could work with this.
"If I can manage this, and get you this promotion, you are to sign over 10% of your department's revenues to me."
She thought for a moment. "5%" she replied.
"This is not a negotiation," I said firmly. "This is my price. 10%."
"All right," said Cindy. "10% of all revenues."
I pulled up a standard contract on my computer terminal, filled in the blanks, and printed it out. Cindy scanned it briefly -- at least she knew better than to sign a document from a slaver without reading it. But this particular contract contained no hidden loopholes, it was simply a promise to funnel 10% of the revenues from her department in return for my assistance in getting her the promotion. She signed, and handed the document back to me.
"We will be in touch," I said, and stood up to shake her hand.
"One thing," said Cindy, before accepting it. "I heard what you pulled with the Titalin club. If you try any stunts like that with me, I will make you regret it."
I smiled with false warmth, "I would expect nothing less."
Later that afternoon, the Board of Governors met in one of the classrooms at Eastfield Girls' Academy. It was an emergency session called to replace Diana Wilson as Director. Diana had been one of the first victims of Emily's overly eager slave hunting, and she was currently naked, on the sales floor of the shop, having marking scrubbed from her skin by a group of similarly nude Academy students.
There were two candidates to replace Diana as Director. One was the Deputy Director, Tiffany Price, while the other was the teacher who had visited my shop earlier, Winifred Rogers. Tiffany's presentation to the Governors left no doubt about what sort of Director she would be.
"I believe, as Miss Wilson did, that every young woman has the potential within her to achieve great things, if only she is given the proper opportunities and encouragement," said Tiffany. "I intend to promote an instructional model that gives every woman in our institution the freedom to reach the full measure of her intellectual potential, and to make our institution proud with her achievements."
"Eloquently stated," said the Chairman. "I gather, based on your presentation, that you would not implement the Department for Education's new rule concerning the enslavement of students who fail exams."
