Slowly, David paced the length of the dungeon. He was all alone. The vaulted concrete chamber, with its long row of steel-barred cages on either side was silent, apart from the echo of his slow footsteps. The cages themselves were empty, their barred doors unlatched and left half open. Only the day before, they had all been occupied with young women and girls kidnapped from all over the state by David and his team of white slavers. The dungeon had echoed with their gag-muffled sobs and cries of terror as they were dragged out, one by one to be auctioned off into slavery.
But now the auction was over. Most of the girls had departed with their new owners. The rest were being transported by the other members of David’s team for the online buyers who couldn’t come to collect the slaves in person. So now David was left to mind their base, all alone.
He sighed. It was always like this after an auction. Months had been spent selecting, stalking and abducting the girls and of course during their training he had gotten to know them intimately well. Selling them off, though profitable as always, was never easy.
David paused at one of the empty cages. His team hadn’t gotten around to removing the labels over the door of each cage so this one was still tagged: #07 Holly Brown. She’d been a school teacher, a cute, shy, brunette of 26. Holly had barely put up a fight when David and his team snatched her from her apartment one evening, reacted with mute disbelief and horror when informed that her old life was over and from now on she was nothing but a slave to be used by her future masters.
But once the shock of the sudden change her life had taken wore off, David found out the quiet, proper school marm had long harbored secret fantasies which blossomed under the whips and chains of her captors. Before long Holly was a pro, submitting to everything her captors demanded and begging for more. David was unsurprised at the auction she’d won herself a plum position in the harem of one of their wealthiest clients.
David moved to the next cage and chuckled. There was a lesson in contrasts. The cage beside Holly’s had held Daphne Simpson, a raven haired 19-year old waitress. Even empty now, David could picture her face glaring daggers at him, scowling behind her heavy panel gag. She’d proved a real hellcat from the beginning, fighting for all she was worth when they’d grabbed her in the parking lot late one night after work, kicking and struggling the whole way to the van, bucking like a wild bronco when they tried to rope her wrists and ankles, she’d even bit Charlie when he tried to get the ballgag between her teeth. The whole car ride, seven or eight hours long, she’d kept up a stream of muffled curses and abuse at the men who had abducted her.
The weeks in the dungeon hadn’t cooled her spirit at all. Despite repeated punishments and enduring stricter bondage than any of the other girls, Daphne resolutely refused to accept her slavery, refused to obey or serve in any way. Finally, with the auction upon them and the choice to hold her over for further, likely futile training, or sell her as it, David and the others had decided to sell. She’d screamed and struggled all the way to the auction block and two of the slavers had had to hold her there long enough for the bidding, which didn’t go on for long, though she’d fetched a better price than David had expected. Her buyer said he liked girls with spirit and he planned to keep her in strict bondage most of the time anyway. David wished him the best of luck with Daphne.
Then that cage over there, opposite Daphne’s… That one had held Yvette Moreau, a 22 year old foreign exchange student. She’d come to the US to study and learn English, but the poor girl hadn’t made it much further than the airport before she’d been diverted from college and a promising future to the dungeon and a life of bondage and slavery. Training her had been almost as hard as it had with Daphne. Not because of any resistance on the part of sweet Yvette, far from it. Indeed, the tall, slender blonde had, after one or two punishments, been almost pathetically eager to please her captors, quickly adopting the attitude of a proper submissive slave girl.
No, the trouble was the French maiden barely spoke a word of English and what little she’d learned before her capture hadn’t included such vital phrases for new slave girls like “Bend over and spread ‘em” or “start sucking if you don’t want us to whip your tits again.” Early on, they’d had to resort to crude pantomime more than once just to get the slave girl to understand what they wanted her to do. Eventually, though, she’d built up a rudimentary vocabulary of words that, while not exactly common for native speakers, fit the needs of her particular situation well enough.
“And then she ends up being bought by an Asian businessman who doesn’t speak either English or French!” David thought with a chuckle. “Hopefully it won’t take her too long to learn Japanese…”
David continued down the rows, sparing a thought for each of the girls who had recently filled the dungeon and were now off starting their new lives all over the world. Reaching the end, the slaver went through a barred door that separated the dungeon from the rest of the slavers’ base. Not far away was an office David and the others used for the usual administrative minutiae that went with any complex business, white slavery not excepted. It was also where they conducted much of their research on future “recruits.”
Logging in, David called up the files for some of the girls they were considering for the next batch of captures. Photographs of young women, mainly culled from the girls’ own social media accounts, smiled back at him from beaches, clubs and parties, the subjects mutely unaware of the plans David had for them. Soon, the rest of his team would return and they could start collecting the young ladies. Soon the cages in the dungeon would be filled again.
“Alone…but not for long!”