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From: "Zebulon" <zebulon@fastmail.ca>
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Subject: {ASSM} Part 13 - Blackmailed Into Bondage (No Real Sex)
Date: Sun,  1 Sep 2002 10:10:04 -0400
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This is a work of fiction in 14 parts.  It is the second
novel set in the same world as "The Training of Jeannie
and Clair."  It is approximately the same length as the
first novel, but was broken into slightly smaller chunks
to avoid problems with my Email service.

Zebulon

No reference to real persons is intended.  It contains strong, 
non-traditional sexual imagery and language.  If you don't 
like this kind of thing, don't read it.

NOTE: This novel is winding down.  There are no serious
sex scenes left in this or in the last segment.

Feedback is welcome.  Zebulon@fastmail.ca

All Zebulon's work is posted here:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Zebulon/www/

(MF, FF, Bond)

- - - - -

Part 13 - Blackmailed Into Bondage
by Zebulon

                      *   *   *   *   *

     For the last several weeks of the semester, Penny found
herself becoming more and more accustomed to her status
of Master Randall's property.  There was something oddly
comforting in it.  She was still torn by conflicting emotions,
but since she didn't have any real choice, there was no sense
of guilt.  And she also found herself becoming more and
more attracted to Master Randall himself.  Her sex life had
certainly never been better.

     Then the semester came to an end.  It was the Saturday
following the last final examination.  Graduation was
scheduled for the next day.

     Randall was sitting on the swivel chair in Penny's little
house looking at his three totally naked slaves standing in a
line before him.  He had told them to pretty themselves up
for final inspection.

     Laura was calm.  Whatever her Master had in mind,
whatever would come next, he would take care of her.  She
was eagerly awaiting the future.

     Kim Ann was resigned.  Her Master had shown her a
copy of a CIA report--fake--about the accidental
assassination of a far eastern agent and a newspaper article--
real--about a prominent Hong Kong businessman who 
sold his firm, retired, and disappeared with his American
wife.  The loose ends of her old life were tied up and she
didn't much care what her new life would hold.  She was
only vaguely curious about what was to follow.

     Penny was apprehensive.  A major transition was clearly
at hand.  Randall was graduating and it was obvious he was
planning to leave the area.  She fervently hoped he would
take her with him.  But he could be getting ready to sell her
to someone else.  He had made a point of telling her that he
could do that.  What would she do if he did?  What choices
did she have?  What was going to happen next?

     None of them had long to wait.  Almost as soon as his
inspection was finished, they became aware of the sounds of
a heavy truck driving up faculty row.  The girls weren't
surprised to hear it pull to a stop at the turnoff to Penny's
house.  There was a distant sound of the cab door opening
and slamming shut.  And then the sound of footsteps
approaching on the gravel path.  The three girls were still at
attention with their backs to the front door.  Randall was
calmly watching them and waiting.  They expected to hear a
knock at the door momentarily.

     But then there was the sound of another, smaller vehicle
coming along the main road and turning up the gravel path. 
The footsteps stopped.  The car came to a stop.  A door
opened and closed.

     "Roger, you son-of-a-bitch," came a loud cowboy voice,
"what are you doing out here in the wilderness?  I thought
you never left Europe?"

     "Hello, Andrew," replied a very cultured British accent.

     "Andy," barked the cowboy, half laughing.

     "Andy.  Yes, of course.

     "Put er there, Pard."

     "The last time I shook your hand, I almost lost three
fingers."

     The cowboy laughed heartily, "alright you wimp," he
said good naturedly.  And there followed a loud slap like the
clapping of a large meaty hand on an unsuspecting back.

     "Ahhh," came a startled voice, "I wish you colonists
weren't so bloody friendly."

     Another hearty laugh.  "So what the hell are you doing
way out here in the boonies?"

     "A special pick-up for a Swiss buyer."

     "A pick up?  You?  But I thought . . ."

     "There's probably more than one, Andrew."

     "Oh yeah, Pard, sure."

     Penny felt herself go cold.  Randall saw her skin break
out in goose bumps as the steps came up to the door. 
Randall motioned to Laura who ran over and opened the
door even before the two strangers could knock.

     They were both so stereotypical it hurt.  The trucker
looked to be in his early forties and was dressed in a 
cowboy shirt, western jeans, and boots.  He wore a ten 
gallon hat.  The Brit was probably in his early fifties and 
dressed in conservative suit and bowler.  As they entered 
the house the Englishman removed his hat, the cowboy 
didn't.  Laura closed the door and then returned to her 
place in line.

     "Ladies," said, Randall, "as I'm sure you've guessed, we
are going to take a little trip."

     The two strangers were examining the three girls.  The
cowboy wore a big, Texas grin.  The Englishman studied
them with detached professional interest.

     "Laura.  Kim Ann."

     "Master?"  They replied almost in unison.

     "Get dressed."  And they were gone.

     Penny was very conscious of her nakedness and of
having been singled out.

     "Mr. Parker, did you have any trouble at the apartment?"

     "Andy," he emphasized with a smile.

     "Andy."

     "Not at all, Pard.  I found the key and got everything
loaded up."

     "Great.  As soon as the girls are ready, you can load
them, too."

     "What about luggage?"

     "None to speak of.  One small satchel each.  Master
Eugene has made arrangements concerning everything else."

     "Will-do, Pard.  I'll just go check on the little fillies." 
And so saying he followed Laura and Kim Ann to the back
room.

     "Does he always talk like that?" Randall asked after
Andy had left the room.

     "Always," Mr. Orson replied.

     "Well, anyway, if you'd care to have a seat. . . ."  The
Englishman took a seat in a large chair near the kitchen.

     "Penny."  She was instantly attentive and so nervous she
felt ill.  "Please show yourself to Mr. Orson."  Penny gulped
and then went through her display ritual.  There was one
moment when standing with her back to the Englishman,
legs spread, bent over, pulling her ass cheeks wide for his
inspection--a moment when she thought she might throw
up."

     "Very nice," the stranger said to Master Randall.

     "And smell this," her Master said, walking up behind
Penny.  He slapped her hard on the ass and then ran a
couple of fingers through her moist twat.  He held out his
fingers in front of the other's face.  The Englishman leaned
forward and sniffed as if inspecting a rare wine vintage.  His
face brightened with surprise and pleasure.

     "How extraordinary."

     Randall said, "Alright, Penny, go get dressed."

     She left with feelings of great unease.  She passed Laura,
Kim Ann, and the cowboy on her way to the bedroom. 
Laura read her face.  She stopped for a brief moment, took
the trembling teacher by the shoulders, and looking directly
into her eyes said, "it will be alright.  Just relax."

     The words were welcome, but didn't help.

     And then the two students were gone and Penny was
alone to hurry into her clothes.  She wanted to get back as
soon as possible to hear what her Master and the stranger
were saying.  But by the time she returned the important
part of the conversation seemed to be over.

     "Penny," she heard, almost as soon as she entered the
room.

     "Yes, Master?"

     "You are going to travel with Mr. Orson.  On this trip
you are going to be his step-daughter, Leslie Orson.  He's
got all of your travel papers.  He is going to be taking you
to a lady in the Swiss Alps.  If she likes you, she will
become your new Mistress."

     Penny was wearing a frozen, blank expression.  Her
Master, her father, her God was rejecting her, sending her
out into the wilderness.  What had she done wrong?

     He added, "you be sure she likes you--understand?"

     "Yes, Master," she replied with a quaver in her voice.

     Randall considered her reaction for a moment and then
said, "come here, dear."

     She walked up to him.

     "You're a delightful girl and I've loved you very much." 
She looked up into his eyes as if trying to read the meaning
behind them.  "But I can't keep you."  She wanted to ask,
'why not?' but had enough sense to say nothing.  "If you're
lucky," he continued, "this Mistress will want you for her
own.  From what Mr. Orson tells me, your life with her will
be very good."  She looked over at the Englishman who
seemed to be nodding slightly in agreement.  "If she doesn't
like you, you will probably be sold at auction--and then I
have no idea where you will go or what your life will be
like."  Penny wanted to cry.

     Randall put his arms around her and kissed her deeply
one last time.

     Then he turned to Mr. Orson and said, "double
commission, plus bonus.  Just be sure to make the proper
exchange--you've got some pictures along with the transfer
papers."  He handed a thin file to the Englishman. 
"Contact me through Master Slade when you've got an
answer and if all goes well, I'll tell you where to make
delivery."

     "And, if not?"

     Penny felt another cold chill run through her.

     "Well," replied her Master, "then we'll just have to see, I
guess."

     "Actually, I wouldn't worry about it," the Englishman
volunteered.  With what you're got to offer . . ." he was
looking at Penny, ". . . and the trade you have in mind, she'd
be out of her mind not to accept."  He smiled at the
prospect.  "She'll bitch about it, but she'll say yes.  And, of
course, the cash will more than cover my commission--even
considering your generosity."

     "You just close the deal, and it will be worth every
penny."

     "You realize, of course, that if Mr. Turkell is even half
right, you're passing up a huge sum by not putting her on
the open market?"

     Randall smiled.  "Master Eugene, doesn't know
everything that goes on in my head, despite the fact that he
thinks he does."  Then he looked sharply at Mr. Orson. 
"You didn't discuss any of this with him, did you?"

     "Of course not.  But the girl's reputation proceeds her. 
And your mentor's estimate of her value is common
knowledge."

     "So much the better."  And then he turned to Penny and
added, "you hear that?  I'm passing up a fortune by trying to
place you with Mistress Viola."  Then he slapped her on the
ass one last time and said, "alright, I've got to scoot."

     The Englishman said, "please go ahead.  I've got to
discuss a few things with Leslie before we take to the road." 
Randall left, without a backward glance.

                      *   *   *   *   *

     As he walked along the gravel path leading from the
little cottage one last time he felt a certain nostalgic break
with the past.  The 18-wheeler parked at the intersection
ahead started up at his approach.

     "Hey, Pard," came a voice from the cab.  "You want to
ride up here or back with the girls?"

     "I think I'll join you for awhile."  He walked around the
cab and climbed in.  "What do you know about Master
Slade?"

     The cowboy put the truck in gear.  "Slade, huh?"  He
laughed out loud.  "He was Delwin when I first met him and
he's had at least a half dozen different names since then."

     Randall's eyebrows raised.

     "But he's about the best trainer you'll ever meet, and one
of the finest men that ever sucked air."  The cowboy
grinned broadly, "you'll like him."

                      *   *   *   *   *

     After she had watched her former Master leave, Penny
turned to Mr. Orson who was checking through a set of
documents in a large zippered wallet.  "Do you have a
purse, that matches that outfit, girl?"

     "Yes, Master," she answered with great sorrow in her
voice.

     I'm not a Master.  And on the road, please call me father. 
You're supposed to be my daughter.  If you need to refer to
me by name, I am Roger Orson.

     "Yes . . . father."

     "Hmmm.  Well go fetch the purse and try to cheer up. 
You look like a funeral."

     When she returned he started handing her documents. 
This is your passport, Leslie.  And these are your tickets
. . . ."  After he finished with the documents and reviewing 
the cover story, he asked if she were clear on everything.

     "Yes, father."

     "Blast, girl, you sound like death at a tax audit.  I wish
you were fully trained."  He looked at her intensely for a
moment and then snapped his fingers.  Do you have a black
dress?

     "Yes, father."  She looked at him curiously.

     "And a black purse to match?"

     "Yes, father."

     "Good.  Go get into them, and be sure not to forget
anything when you transfer the contents of the purse. 
Remember what I said about going to meet your mother in
Switzerland?"

     "Yes, father?"

     "Well forget it.  Mother's dead and we're going to pick
up the body."

     She looked at him blankly for a long moment and then
laughed.  Then she left to do has she had been told.

     He smiled at her as she went to change.  It looked like
the trip wouldn't be nearly as arduous as he had imagined.

                      *   *   *   *   *

     Two weeks later, Randall was sitting down to dinner at
Master Eugene's table.  The formal training of Laura and
Kim Ann was going splendidly and he had flown down from
Canada for the weekend to thank his mentor properly.

     Even though he had only been gone a short while,
Carolena, Alexia, and Leticia acted as if he hadn't been back
in ages.  They assured him everything was set and that
dinner would be magnificent.

     The Master was equally pleased to see him but
considerably more restrained.  "You are going to be a
superstar, my boy," he said over pre-dinner cocktails, "and I
will be proud to have been your sponsor."  They spent most
of the early evening discussing the fallout of the
disappearance of Miss Taylor and Laura.  There was some
speculation that they had run off with each other.  Nor was
anyone aware that Kim Ann had disappeared as well.  It was
probably assumed she had gone back to Hong Kong.  Most
importantly, no one had noticed anything unusual about
Randall's having left after graduation.  The bottom line
seemed to be that there was nothing to worry about.

     Dinner was indeed special.  Letty had outdone herself. 
The girls took turns serving.  And then dessert!  The dessert
was something flambe, but just what wasn't important.  It
was served by Victoria.  As soon as the Master caught sight
of her he jumped out of his chair and, after a frozen
moment, tried to hug her.  It was a matter of dexterity and
luck that no one got burned and that the house didn't go up
in flames.

     A great many explanations were required, but it came
down to the fact that Victoria was a gift of thanks and
appreciation from protégé to mentor.  Randall steadfastly
refused to accept even a single dollar's compensation from
Master Eugene who guessed immediately how Randall had
achieved her purchase.  "This makes Victoria the most
expensive slave I've ever owned."  He smiled at her and she
beamed back.

     Later that night they were all naked around the hot tub. 
Randall was lying on a bench being totally massaged by
Alexia.  Carolena and Leticia were in the tub kissing and
nuzzling each other.  And Master Eugene was perched on
the side of the tub with his feet dangling in the water. 
Victoria was in the water between his legs trying to give
him the most enjoyable blow job he had ever had.  She
thought to herself, 'Lady Viola had been a nice enough
Mistress, but no one would ever replace Master Eugene in
her heart.'  It was just the way you felt about your first
Master.

                      *   *   *   *   *

- - - - -

--End of Part 13 - Blackmailed Into Bondage - Zebulon - 
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