A House of Slaves
Chapter 13 Past, Present, Future
(Desperately wanting to get out)
Kevin and Brandon looked over at Eric. He had been the lookout so wasn’t even part of the actual hold-up, yet there he was retching his guts out by the side of the road.
“Make sure he buries all that,” Brandon yelled at Kevin.
All the drugs (mostly parcels of cocaine and heroin, as expected) had been transferred to their truck. By inspecting the parcels they had found three tracking devices and tossed them into the back of the transport, where the two drivers lay trussed up.
The men would eventually be able to wiggle free, but it would take an hour or two, and by then the boys would be long gone.
It was agreed that Alston and his brother would take the dope and stash it. Everyone had seen how much was there so there was no debate.
The five-ton now turned and headed back down the highway, and the boys followed in two separate cars. Part way along, Eric had to get out and throw up again. No one harassed him; they were all still highly agitated, even though things had gone letter perfect to now.
Brandon texted Aquina with a simple, “A-Ok. See u soon.” And they drove at a safe and non-attention- seeking speed back to the city.
That evening was almost as stressful as the day; waiting. Waiting. Waiting for a phone call or a knock on the door from someone who had found out. Cops. The guys they had hit. But nothing.
Still, the boys, even Jake, all agreed it was way too early to do any celebrating. They needed to play it very cool and just lay low. It would be a while, maybe months, before Alston could start moving the dope without drawing attention.
For now, the haul was like dinner in the oven; it would need time.
Aquina was sitting at ‘Mullens’, a trendy bar for under thirty-somethings, feeling just a tiny bit old, as she observed the people around her. Oh well, Claire had picked this place and she was, well, younger, by four or five years.
Claire arrived then and as Aquina was known to do, caused some heads to swivel as she crossed the floor in her tight, purple dress.
Greeting Aquina warmly they hugged, each kissing the other on the cheek. “You look lovely,” Aquina said, sitting down.
Claire smiled and blushed, before adding, “You look gorgeous too. You notice how many people are looking at you?”
“Us, my sweet. Us. You are getting some attention with that dress.” Aquina smiled, “And I can tell you accepted my condition. Your nipples are trying to break out.” Claire laughed, covering her mouth with her hand, before Aquina added, “But lift up your dress so I can see if you followed all my directions.”
Claire shyly but with a smile and feeling arousal, raised her hem, and Aquina could clearly see the soft, blonde coating of pubic hair covering her mound. Aquina licked her lips, “Hmmm, that is making me hungry.”
Claire laughed again, saying, “Stop it. You’re making me crazy. Let’s order before we totally lose it,” while secretly wanting this beautiful, exotic woman to give her some more ‘directions’, right here in the restaurant.
At this point a server appeared bringing menus, filling glasses and taking drink orders. Both women ordered a glass of house white and then studied the menu.
A few moments later the server, ‘Bobbi’, returned. She was cute, possibly eighteen or nineteen, petit (five- three) with short, obviously died black, (black) hair, a nose ring and a tattoo peeking out from the cuff of her shirt.
After a couple of menu comments, Aquina spoke, “Claire, lift your dress and show Bobbi your underwear; see what she thinks.”
Claire looked startled but was obviously excited; Bobbi looked amused and a little puzzled, but then Claire lifted her dress, showing Bobbi her naked sex. Bobbi stared with obvious interest, before Aquina added, “That could be your tip if we are happy with the service.”
“Absolutely,” Bobbi enthused, smiling broadly from one lovely woman to the other, as Claire lowered her dress.
“You are crazy!” Claire whispered fiercely across the table at Aquina, who simply laughed. She could tell by the broad smile on Claire’s face that this action was definitely okay; possibly more than okay, which was interesting.
Their lunch proved very enjoyable. The two women found much to talk about. Aquina was quite interested to learn that Claire had been a very promising tennis player in her late teens, before a serious thigh injury ended that. Claire for her part listened with rapt attention to some of Aquina’s stories about her street life.
Bobbi had hovered nearby and was intensely attentive until at last she brought the bill. The restaurant was quite quiet now, approaching two-thirty, and they were seated to one side. Aquina, considering her lovely blonde companion, directed Bobbi to kneel in front of her. Claire looked at her lunch partner with some alarm but also, again, arousal.
Aquina smiled and nodded her head, saying, “Just stay with me, girl.” Aquina then had Claire lift her dress up and lean back a little, saying “Ok, Bobbi, have a taste.”
Bobbi stared for only a moment before bending forward and burying her round face between Claire’s legs.
Aquina allowed this for almost a minute, before she pulled a very reluctant Bobbi back from her sucking and asked, “What time are you off, sweets?”
Bobbi blinked a couple of times, getting herself settled, “Uhm, nine. I’m off at nine, uh, ma’am.”
“Don’t call me ma’am,” Aquina said. “I’ll be waiting out front for you later. Okay, here you go.” And she handed Bobbi the bill and her credit card. Bobbi stared for a moment, until Aquina said, “Get going, Bobbi. We need to be off.”
“Oh,” Bobbi blurted, looking back from Claire to Aquina and then Claire again. “Right. Be back in a sec.”
Aquina then said softly, “You may lower your dress, my good girl.”
As they were leaving, Claire slipped her arm through Aquina’s, “I can see life with you is never dull.” She whispered into one ear. Aquina laughed, thinking of the slave girls and the drug heist.
“You don’t know the half of it, sweets,” she murmured, wondering just what she had with this beautiful blonde bombshell.
They walked a few paces before Claire spoke again. “Oh, I just remembered. Sanders left a briefcase for you at the office.”
Aquina sat in a chair near Claire’s bed. They had brought Bobbi back here as Aquina did not want to deal with the boys or the slaves or any of that. She had already tired of slave-management and was working on a plan to deal with that. Part of that included Bobbi, who was now lying naked on Claire’s bed, with Claire stretched out beside her, gently kissing her face and breasts; toying with the silver bars that pierced her nipples.
It was eleven-thirty; they had, in pairs and all together, been making love for over two hours and were mellow and satisfied.
Aquina had quickly sized up Bobbi as a potential third party girl for the house, and nothing that had happened had changed her mind. She now climbed up on the bed to lie against Bobbi’s other side. The young woman turned and kissed her, sucking Aquina’s tired tongue into her mouth briefly, before saying quietly, with her eyes closed, “I could die right now. Just die. Let a fucking meteorite hit the earth, right mother-fucking now; I’m ready.”
Claire and Aquina both laughed and kissed their new, petite, youthful, willing, tattooed and pierced toy.
Saturday morning, eight-thirty; Aquina had called all the boys together. Kate and Anna had prepared and served breakfast to those who wanted it, and then Anna went to join Adam ‘in his room’ (we need to start charging that guy rent (Eric); wait until you see the cash he brought in (Aquina), while Kate was placed back in her crate. Melissa of course was still with Mrs. B.
The lads were still subdued following their event; not a lot of joking had been heard the last day or so; in fact, everyone had pretty much kept to themselves. Jake, who had shown up, was looking his usual annoyed self, but Aquina did not bother with that.
When the four of them were seated and waiting, she left. When she returned in a few seconds she carried a box, which was placed on the floor. She then hauled out three cloth bags from it and dumped some of the contents on the large coffee table; stacks of cash.
“Wow, how much we lookin’, at A.?”
Jake just grunted.
“Okay boys, I worked out something with Sanders. The
three of you, Brandon and I have a separate deal, put in eighty grand in total and Sanders has paid you off at three hundred. Minus my twelve percent, you are looking at eighty-eight large, each.”
The boys just stared. Even Jake.
Discussion ensued for a bit until Jake announced that he was good and he would take his share and leave.
“Lookit’,” he said, standing and holding the box. “I haven’t always seen eye to eye with you Aquina; and I’m still not happy about my bitch sister-in-law; but this is good work. I know all about a low profile with cash. I’m not going to do anything stupid or fuck things with you guys. But I am going to do my own thing. No worries. Thanks. I mean that.”
And then he left, with what was the closest thing to a smile Aquina had seen on his round, glum face.
The discussion then turned to what to do with this cash, which Aquina pointed out, had resulted from: first, Adam locating Sanders McHugh’s daughter, which then led to the deal which now showed stacks of cash.
Everyone agreed that they would ease up on Adam and his staying there; his services were not just inexpensive, they actually brought in cash.
As for the present and the dough, Eric and Kevin eventually took five thousand each and agreed that Aquina would find them a real estate deal with the rest, keeping the money away from the eyes of the I.R.S. and into more future investments. Kevin also added he wanted to put another room in downstairs in the empty space beside the furnace, for him to use.
The burner phone Alston had given Brandon now lit up. It was a text message from him saying the dope was all stashed securely and that he had been monitoring informant and wiretap chatter and nothing was being said about the heist. Certainly the syndicate who owned the dope would have begun their own investigation, but for now all was silent on the street.
The boys all nodded, but became quiet once again. No one said it but they all thought it; if a trail ever led back to Alston, then they were all in danger.
Aquina decided this was a good time to bring up another topic: the slave girls, but she began it by mentioning Bobbi, who Aquina would be going to retrieve from Claire in a little while. Aquina had spoken with Bobbi, (real name Roberta; but, only my mom calls me that) as Claire listened; Aquina had let out little bits of info about the ‘slave House’ or ‘Man-cave’ (as she preferred) before, but some of the revelations were new to Claire’s ears.
Bobbi was down with it all; she desperately wanted to get out of the tiny apartment she shared with her mother. She was not getting a lot of shifts from ‘Mullens’ and could use some extra cash. She was okay with being fondled by older guys…if she could continue to see Claire and Aquina.
It was all good, and Aquina would move her into the apartment with Mindi and Heather today.
It was Aquina Morez’s twelfth birthday, and in celebration her mother had forced her first act of oral sex on her, servicing her latest boyfriend. With hints of ‘more to come’ to help with the finances, Aquina took what she could carry and left.
She managed on the streets for almost a month until one night she was hanging out in Brickell Park when a woman approached her. Aquina was quick with possible dangerous situations and ran, right into the waiting fist of Jade Dawkins. It was his girlfriend Sharize who had spooked Aquina.
They took the girl to their place a few blocks away, but still near the water, and for the next ten days Dawkins raped and beat her daily. Between the rapes and the beatings, Sharize would comfort her, look after her cuts and bruises and counsel her.
She also began to show Aquina some tools of the sex trade. Sharize’s pussy was the first that Aquina tasted, and she came to know it well.
Things then carried on for almost two years, with Dawkins pimping Aquina out to both male and female clients, until Sharize died of either bad drugs or an overdose. Things went downhill for Dawkins after that and his drinking became excessive; and he took his anger out on Aquina.
That is, until the day she plunged the steak knife into his chest.
Aquina knocked on the apartment door and then took out her key, but the door was opened first by Mindi. As Aquina and Bobbi entered, Heather came out of one of the bedrooms to greet them.
Bobbi was introduced and a discussion quickly followed regarding the sleeping arrangements. The two bedroom apartment had a double bed in each room, so both Heather and Mindi had their own bed if they chose, which often they did, but they had also slept together. It was decided that each day the three would pick numbers and two would share and one would be solo.
To speed up the acquainting process, Aquina had Bobbi strip and stand before the other two. For a girl who had only recently turned nineteen, Bobbi had many tattoos and piercings, and all the women were interested, but even with the artwork the girl appeared young.
Her smallish breasts, B-cup at best, had the silver bars through nipples that were surrounded by huge areolas. As well as the nose-ring, Bobbi had several rings on each ear, but most noticeable (or interesting) were the two gold rings on her outer labia, one each side. Bobbi had done the full Brazilian; she had no hair what-so-ever from her navel down.
Along with the labia rings, she also had two belly-button studs and a vertical silver bar through her clit. As Bobbi explained it, her best friend’s step-dad had a tat parlor, and he had agreed to do work on them in exchange for sex from them both.
“A class act,” Heather murmured.
As well as the piercings, Bobbi also had a cat’s face tattoo just above her pubic mound and a butterfly on her back, its tail ending just at her butt crack; and an intricate jungle-themed tat sleeve (that Bobbi said took over a month of work and had her agree to anal sex, with both the step-dad and a buddy, in order to complete) on one arm.
It certainly made her ‘older’ for the men, but she was so youthful in appearance otherwise and the piercings and tats were kind of exotic that Aquina thought it would be enticing, somewhat.
Heather and Mindi took Bobbi into one bedroom to examine her more closely. Aquina took that opportunity to make her exit.
That night Aquina had Bobbi, together with Heather and Mindi, make her appearance. It was only the boys (minus Jake; what the hell he did with himself no one knew.) and Adam (their resident lawyer) with of course Kate and Anna. Bobbi was a hit, with both Eric and Kevin giving her lots of attention.
Everyone ending up staying, so for the first time all the bedrooms were filled. Before everyone crashed, Aquina told the boys that she was going to see about a buyer for Melissa, and she would deal with any fall-out from Jake.
“The point,” Aquina said, “was that they were moving into bigger deals, and having to deal with these women, held against their will, would be more and more of a problem.” Aquina declared that she did not want to spend the time that she was spending in looking after them; it was counter-productive and unnecessary, as they could get party girls; as she had.
And it did not improve their financial situation. And, most importantly, the slave girls were a liability, a giant problem in the making. Kidnapping was a life sentence crime, as the officers knew.
So, this would not be Jake’s call. While Aquina did not just come out and say ‘Jake could go fuck himself’, that was the essence of her message. No one offered any opposition. What really could they say?
“And we need to deal with Kate.” She paused. “I should have pushed back harder on that, right from the start, but that’s on me, but we can’t continue with her like this.”
The little group sat silently; all of them, even Brandon, had thought the same thing, at one point or another. Being male, they had enjoyed the free sex, but they knew in the backs of their minds how reckless it was. Both Kevin and Eric had even admitted to each other that they were struggling with conflict whenever they looked at the woman, now that the novelty had worn off.
Aquina sat in her car in the parking area beside some warehouses that were going through a rebirth. Several had been converted already to condos and offices. The one she was parked beside, the address that Macgregor had directed her to, had seen substantial change.
She looked at her watch; one-fifty; she was early, but had still needed to fight the impulse to go in. She wanted to be inside; she fought her anxiety, but it was no use. She forced herself to slow her breathing, to close her eyes and wait. Checking her watch again, it was one fifty-four. She would wait two more minutes….
Shareen Macgregor was dressed today in her ‘Mistress outfit’: black leather dress, black stockings, thigh-high black leather boots. Her dress had zippers on the top that allowed her to display her breasts, which she was now doing. They were held in place by a leather harness and jutted out white and enticing, pink nipples erect.
This section of the building had been converted by Macgregor and ‘friends’ to function as a dungeon for slave work or parties. There was a stage, a wet bar and numerous hooks and stands for attaching slaves to in a variety of positions, for punishment or display. As Aquina entered the room Macgregor was in, she saw painted on the floor a simple command: all slaves naked from this point.
She undressed quickly leaving her clothes in a pile and resisting the urge to grasp and stroke her sex: once entered, she knew she was to do only as directed.
“Come, Slave.” Macgregor called from the stage.
Aquina hurried to her, kneeling before her with eyes down.
“On all fours, slave-slut.” Macgregor came down from the small stage to walk around Aquina who was on hands and knees as directed. “Today I am Mistress Shareen.” She stood beside Aquina, whose breath was coming rapidly through her flared nostrils. Macgregor began running her new black cane gently down Aquina’s side and back. “Spread your legs farther, slave. Good. Now, are you a filthy slut?”
“I…I am a filthy slut, Mistress Shareen.”
“Do you belong on your knees?”
“I belong on my knees, before my Mistress.”
“Do you need punishment, pathetic, boot-licking slave?”
For the first time that afternoon, Aquina choked a little in reply, “Ye-yes, my sweet Mistress. I need punishment.”
“Beg, pussy-loving whore. Be specific.”
“Ummmm, please, dear mistress, please whip your slave’s ass. Please whip my breasts and punish them…as you d-decide. Pl-please whip my…cunt.”
Macgregor smiled; this was as good as she had hoped for. “Ahhh, very good. You please me. You are a cunt-licking whore, but we knew that. Now, be on your knees, with your hands behind your head.” Aquina assumed this stance and Macgregor, wearing black, silk gloves, reached around from behind and gripped Aquina’s breasts, yanking on them before slapping them, and pulling the nipples savagely.
She repeated this action a number of times before putting her index fingers in Aquina’s mouth, pulling it wide open, and then leaning forward and allowing a glob of spit to fall from her lips onto Aquina’s tongue. The next glob landed on Aquina’s cheek, and the doctor massaged it into her face, before plugging Aquina’s nose and covering her mouth, establishing that as mistress she even had control over whether her slave could breathe or not.
After releasing her grip, Macgregor walked away a few steps and returned with a collar; wide, black leather decorated with several metal spikes. On it was the single word, ‘Slave’. Macgregor fastened this roughly around her slave’s neck, jerking her head back and forth. She then attached two cuffs around her slave’s wrists and linked them to the collar. Lifting Aquina by her hair she pulled her over to the corner where a toilet sat open, no walls or enclosure providing any privacy.
Roughly forcing her slave to her knees, Macgregor lifted her leather dress revealing she wore no panties. She then squatted and urinated into the toilet, keeping Aquina’s head close by the bowl. When she finished she stood and pulled Aquina’s face to her crotch.
“Clean me filthy slut, that’s all you’re good for, really,” was the instruction, which Aquina responded to quickly, running her tongue up and down Macgregor’s slit, sucking on the lips and tasting and cleaning off the remaining drops of urine.
“What does my slave say?” Macgregor demanded.
Aquina gently kissed the tight, pink lips a couple more times. “Thank you Mistress, for you thoughtfulness.”
“I am indeed kind, to allow a worthless street whore like you between my legs. Come here, on your feet.”
Aquina was then hauled over to a hook hanging from the rafters. The cuffs were released from her collar and attached to the hook, with Aquina, even at five-nine, needing now to stand on her tiptoes, swaying as she did.
Macgregor then retrieved several punishment devices from a near-by locker; paddles, canes, floggers and a small hand whip.
“Now, whore (Slap!). Slut (Slap!). Cunt(Slap!). I will give you the punishment you deserve, and then you will show your appreciation.” The next strike was from the leather paddle, and landed with a satisfying ‘whommp!’ on Aquina’s lovely ass.
Macgregor smiled; this was going to be very satisfying, and she had waited a long time for it.
Ed Alston was not going to let on to Dzyuba, or his men, but he was pretty much scared shitless through the whole drug high-jack; but he was desperate; which was why he needed to bring in his older brother Regan for support. His brother had been a detective for twenty-nine years, retiring just last year.
Alston had feared that Regan would try to talk him out of the very dangerous and reckless venture, but his brother had been surprisingly supportive. He recognized the financial bind that many of his friends were in; a big score would take care of all that, dangers aside.
Alston was relieved that the young men who helped him were not pushing right away for money. It was very important to play things out carefully. Certain dope had certain traits; who knew about this particular shipment? There was no way he wanted to give the ‘drug guys’ any hints as to his existence.
Now, an opportunity to move a little of the product had popped up. He was to be part of a sting and they would need to borrow two kilos of coke for the deal. At his station, Alston had worked his way into the role of ‘drug mule’ of sorts; he would sign out the dope for stings, and he would return it.
The only thing being that the dope he signed out this time would be police issue and the dope he returned would be from the high-jack. The only question to Alston was, if his nerve would hold.
(End of Chapter 13)