"You see?" She exclaimed with a strange triumph. "I can?t possibly get loose. I?ve tried."
Aslam tested her locked bonds so pertly presented for his attention. "You are right." He said gravely. "They are snug. You can never free yourself. You may resume your position."
Stepping away, it seemed to Corey only polite to relieve her host of embarrassment. "I don?t mind a bit your seeing me naked, Mr. Aslam." She said with naive innocence. "And please go on giving special attention to my pubic hair and breasts. I?ll stand at attention and spread my legs a bit…"
Assef Aslam sighed. He accepted this cornucopia of riches in silent reverence. His eyes drank deep.
"Audrey mentioned slavery, Mr. Aslam. Should I kneel, or something?"
"Yes, kneel. Back on your heels, head bowed."
She was sure she was very beautiful. She heard his indrawn breath and felt an ecstasy of power in being female. Head bowed in submission she knew a strange triumph. Her hands had ceased to work against their bonds.
"Am I supposed to call you Master now?" She asked without moving.
"I prefer the title of `sir`. It has its own spontaneous subservience. More humiliating. Don?t you agree?"
The naked girl savored it and found him right. "It is more humiliating to me, sir." She agreed without resentment. For good measure, Corey blandly asked. "Do you wish to have intercourse with me now?"
"You find the prospect agreeable?"
"Yes, sir. Your slave is honored."
"Isn?t that a hackneyed line, Miss Gibson?"
"I thought so too, sir." The humbled nudity wriggled shyly. "But I?m afraid they?re going to pop up if you want me totally obedient." In a burst of candor, she added. "Audrey?s told me about being whipped. I don?t want to be whipped."
"Do you know what it means to service a man, Miss Gibson?"
"Only because I?ve read about it, sir."
"Service me. Kneeling."
It was like being a child again, to walk on her knees. Corey wished Mr. Aslam would share her laughter as she worked at coping with his zipper. It was such fun having no hands, like an old time parlor game. It took her lips, her teeth and her tongue…! Even at that he had to help a little.
"I am pleased, Miss Gibson. Even discounting the potion…!"
Miss Gibson diluted shock at the sudden emergence of her new owner?s male organ by looking up, dewey eyed, and suggesting shyly: "Why don?t you call me Corey, Mr. Aslam? I don?t want you to call me Miss Gibson any more."
She grinned ruefully. "I think Miss Gibson?s disappeared."
Assef nodded, his hands stroking her hair. "Yes, Miss Gibson has gone."
"So why not give me a new name?" Her eyes sparkled. "Give me a slave name appropriate to wherever it is you?re taking me?"
"It shall be as you wish. And now…?"
"Yes, sir. Do I take it all in my mouth at once? I suck it, don?t I? And some other things I read…?"
"Just follow the book." Said Assef Aslam kindly.
Miss Corey Gibson was still savoring the salty taste of semen when the cape was clasped at her neck. It was light, and reached below her pubic hair. No one would see her handcuffs. She kicked her feet back into her own discarded shoes and was ready for her journey. There were waves of disapproval and frantic warnings from those disassociated portions of herself in space but she tolerantly dismissed their naivete in amusement at their absurd concern. With Assef?s hand upon her captive arm, and a femininely complacent smile upon her lips, she walked through a now open door into a new life.
The private elevator was privacy deluxe. A foolish girl seeking escape or help would have found neither. In the underground garage they passed a man alone and a single couple. None vouchsafed a second glance. The waiting limousine and its impassive driver absorbed them both in hushed discretion. Settling with Mr. Aslam into the back seat, Corey wriggled deliciously back against her fastened arms. As at a sudden discovery, she exclaimed. "I?m kidnapped! I?m a kidnapped heiress." Her eyes twinkled at her companion. "Gosh, this sure is exciting."
Wealth paved their way to the private jet. Abstractedly, the kidnapped girl realized how little the cape was needed. There was never a chance for that other girl who just might have wanted to run. In the plane it was Audrey Cotswold who took away the cape and shoes.
"Happy, Corey?"
"Oh, yes!" The affirmative was breathless.
"You don?t hate me?"
"Audrey, I love you…!"
"Sit down, darling, there?s a belt…"
The belt went round her waist. Tight! There was a visible padlock which snapped with an emphatic click. "Lean forward, dear, I?m going to change your cuffs."
It was fun to see her hands again. Everything was fun. Corey glowed at her English friend as her wrists were joined above her lap. Considering the belt, she was now more helpless than she had ever been. It was a truly extraordinary game she was privileged to play. In the spirit of the game she tugged at her padlock.
Audrey held up two keys. "Amuse yourself, dear. That?s what I used to do:"
"It?s a lovely feeling." Corey was fingering the belt, the lock, she held up her linked hands and admired her bracelets. "It?s warm and secure…" She tittered happily. "And there?s no way I can get loose. I say, Audrey, am I drunk?"
"Just enough to be happy:"
"Can I have another drink? I want so much to stay like this."
"Oh, you?ll stay like that, my naked beauty!" Audrey teased. "I?ve sat there myself, and a girl just simply doesn?t get up. And yes, I?ll give you another drink." It was lovely to hold up the glass in both her prisoned hands. Corey admired the translucence of whatever it was she was drinking. "This is better than first class." She said thoughtfully. "Have you got this one doctored too?"
"Just a little. Damn remarkable stuff, eh?"
"I know I?m drugged, Audrey." The captive shook her head as though lost for words. Her eyes were soft. "I want to say something corny and sincere. It isn?t much. Just `thank you`. I know what you?ve done for me. You?ve made the impossible possible."
"I wish I?d had some in my time. It?s ruddy miraculous."
"and the things Mr. Aslam and I got up to…! Wow! And I don?t feel a bit different. In fact, I feel nicer. Just like you said."
"you?re a lot nicer, dear." Audrey?s lips were soft.
Corey leant back and went to sleep.
Corey Gibson wept. Her tears welled from every emotion save love. "The dirty bastards! The dirty bastards…!" She reiterated the epithet over and over again beneath her breath. "They didn?t need to tie me like this. They didn?t need…!" Painfully, she rolled over on the bare boards of the narrow bunk. But nothing helped. Nothing! The pain from her bound elbows was a steady torment.
The waking up had ben bad enough. She was stiff from sleeping on the unyielding wood. The discomfort left her ill disposed in her effort to recall. She saw pictures she was unwilling to believe. Impossible outrageous visions of herself doing and saying things to which the daughter of Clifford Gibson would never stoop. She wished them nightmares but knew they were not. Pushing herself from the boards she discovered she was naked, and that she was free.
Her nakedness could not be ignored. It was stark and total. She had been naked in the visions. Sitting up and absorbing her absence of covering she discovered also a flaw in her freedom. There was an uncomfortable weight on her neck, and a trailing chain…! Her fingers explored a metal collar and the considerable length of links attaching her to a ringbolt in the stone wall. It was a debasing way to be constrained, like a dog! She remembered something about being shamed.
The drink or the drug had left her hazy. It was a couple of minutes before her prison came into focus. It was a square cell. Three walls of stone, one of bars, a barred window high and out of reach. The barred door was a part of the wall which left Corey?s nakedness free to examine by any interested passer by who cared to peer through the bars. Beyond the bars was a view of a sizable courtyard, a lot of sand or dust and a couple of discouraged trees. The air was warm and owed nothing to artificial heat.