The Ring

Chapter IV

Wesley savored the muffled gasp coming from behind him as he exited the room. It was just too much fun. There was a pep in his limping step as he crossed the threshold into the next room to play with his other new toy.

It had been too long since he’d had anyone on his trail. It was a downside to being good at what he did. There was always someone sniffing around after missing girls, but he was smart, targeting mostly girls that wouldn’t be missed enough to have any sort of resources thrown into the search for them. He kept his acquisitions teams constantly in motion, never taking from the same city, varying up their techniques to avoid creating patterns that might be noticed.

But somehow he had been noticed. He was practical, and figuring how that had happened and rectifying it was important. But it was also exciting. The FBI had raided one of his warehouses. That was a first.

And they couldn’t have sent anyone better.

The redhead dangling from the ceiling by her ankles turned her head to look at him as he entered the room. Her green eyes were wide, standing out in stark contrast to her red face. She’d been hanging upside down like that for over an hour by this point.

“Hello, Mrs. Kinna,” he greeted his captive, walking around behind her. She tried to turn her head to follow him until she could crane her neck no further, and then she resumed staring straight ahead, watching him in the massive mirror mounted in the wall in front of her. She had no idea that the mirror was only one way, and on the other side, her helpless partner was watching.

“Mmmph,” the helpless agent replied, snorting as a fresh strand of drool dripped up towards her upturned nostrils.

“Here, let me help you with that.” He whipped out a handkerchief and reached around her head, making eye contact with her in the mirror. She tried to turn her head away, to refuse his assistance, but he wiped away her drool for her regardless. “That’s better.”

“Nnnph,” she moaned, staring daggers at him in the mirror.

“I know, this whole thing is a bit on the extreme side.” He ran his hand along her back. She cringed away, but there was only so much movement her position allowed. He put his palm in between her shoulder blades, feeling the tension there. “Would you like me to take out that big ballgag at least? I’m sure it’s uncomfortable for you, and it’s hard to have a proper conversation while you’re grunting and drooling all over yourself.”

Grace turned her head away.

“It’s alright, you can ask for my help.”

“Tnnfff mmmph augh gmmngg,” she garbled, fresh drool spilling from the corners of her lips.

“What was that?”

Somehow, her blood filled cheeks managed to redden.

“I kid, I’m sorry.” He reached behind her neck and unbuckled the strap. “There’s no dignified way to communicate with such a large ballgag in your mouth. That’s rather the point,” he said as he pulled it from her lips.

She gasped, working her jaw as the slobbery silicon orb was dangled in front of her face.

“It’s alright, no need to thank me,” he said, wiping off the ballgag before limping to the edge of the room to set it down on a counter.

“You did this to me,” she said, watching him in the mirror.

He looked up at her ankles, restrained tightly to a bar firmly set into the ceiling. “As much as I might enjoy the set up, getting you up there is a little beyond my capabilities these days.” He looked down at the cane in his hand, and glanced at his bum leg.

“I know this is all your doing.”

Wesley smiled, walking back up next to her, meeting her angry gaze in the mirror. “So you’ve got it all figured out, have you?”

She tugged at the rope binding her wrists to the floor, wiggling in her restraints. “You’re the man behind the curtain. The Wesley of Wesley’s Emporium. Don’t try and act now like this isn’t your operation.”

He shrugged. “You got me.” He stepped closer, pressing his cheek against hers, holding her face there as she tried to pull away. He pictured Ellie on the other side of the mirror, watching them. “What now?” he asked.

Grace tried again to pull away, only to fail again and resume glaring at him in the mirror. To Ellie, it must look like they were both staring at her, bound and helpless in her own prison.

“I guess you don’t know what happens now, but I’m still curious, what would have happened?”

“What?”

“If I hadn’t captured you and your partner? If your little deception had succeeded? What was the plan?”

Grace squirmed, keeping her mouth shut.

“Enlighten me. Had I not shown you my little pet project, 2073, and not had you and Mrs. Maddox subdued and brought here, what would have transpired? I’m genuinely curious.”

“Go to hell!” Grace spat.

He pointed at the counter and ballgag resting atop its pristine surface. “I can gag you again. Speaking is a privilege. I can just as easily stop up that mouth of yours and have just as much fun with you in silence.” His hand cupped her jaw while he held her head in place and he leaned in, whispering in her ear. “Though even with the gag in, you won’t remain silent for long. Oh how I’ll enjoy your muffled screams.” He finished by licking her ear, making his helpless captive shudder. “Or, we can keep having a civil conversation. You won’t get many choices. When you’re offered one, it’s best to choose wisely.”

He forced her to turn her head to look at him, eye to eye. He was positioned so that while their heads were level, her eyes were lower than his, forcing her to look up at him. He didn’t care either way; he was perfectly happy to shut his newest slave up and play with her other holes, but it was important that she had the illusion of free choice in such a small matter.

“The gag it is.” He turned towards the counter.

“Wait.”

He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath before turning back. “You’d like to talk?” He’d known she would. She wanted him to keep talking much more than he wanted her to talk. She still thought there would be something he’d say that might help her get free. He missed that quality in 7023.

“We were looking for you,” she said after a beat.

“Well you succeeded at something, at least,” he said, his tone dripping with condescension. “But still, you got close. Closer than most.”

“Not as close as the woman who shot you.”

His grip tightened around the cane. She was trying to hurt him. Good. It wasn’t quite the same as 7023 actually managing to physically wound him, but his newest toy was working with what she had. Good. He was worried that they might not be fun. “No, but no one else has gotten that close. She is, special. Is there something special about you, Mrs. Kinna?”

She glared at him.

“I suppose that’s not your real name. What should I call you?”

“Don’t you already have a number for me?”

He flashed a smile. “I suppose I do, 52374.” She couldn’t hide her revulsion from him at her number. It was a powerful tool in dehumanizing the girls. “Though I am interested in who you were.”

“Grace Kinna, age 28, digital artist—”

“Lies. Your fake personas were interesting on paper. You had just the right amount of online presence to pass inspection, but up close, it’s so obviously fabricated. The bored wife of a wealthy heiress, looking to spice up things in the bedroom with a slave, that’s so clearly not you.”

She scowled, her brow furrowed. “When did you know?” she asked.

“Does it matter? Maybe I knew when you and your wife first reached out, looking to buy a slave. Perhaps I set up the whole thing as an elaborate trap, and got off on showing you what your future held before I added you to my collection.” He stared deep into her eyes, knowing the possibility of that exact thing happening was sinking in. “Or perhaps I didn’t ever know, I just saw two attractive women, and paying customers or not I thought I could get more if I trained and sold you both, and discovering you weren’t who you claimed to be was a fortuitous coincidence.” He reached up, his fingers grazing her breasts. He glanced at the mirror, looking for where he knew Ellie to be, laying helpless and forced to watch.

“I guess it doesn’t matter,” Grace said.

“You’re where you belong now, but I’ll give you a straight answer if you give me one. Who are you?”

She watched him in the mirror. He could see the mental turmoil behind her green eyes. She wanted to know what he already knew, whether or not telling him would have any negative repercussions. He gave a sly wink, directed at both helpless FBI agents.

“My real name is Grace O’Conner.”

“O’Conner… Grace O’Conner…” he said slowly, as though tasting the syllables. “Irish. Explains the red hair.” He ran his fingers through her dangling tresses. “It suits you better than Grace Kinna.”

“You’re just going to call me by a number anyway.” She seemed eager to downplay the bit of information she had given to him, even though she knew information was power.

“If I put you into the system and sell you, of course…” He let the words dangle in the air between them, letting her grasp onto the possibility that she had an alternative future. “But maybe you’ll prove to be more useful to me.”

“I’m not going to help you.”

“That part isn’t a choice you get to make, Grace O’Conner.” He took a few steps forward and turned around so they were facing each other. “How’d you find me?”

“What happened to my straight answer?” she asked.

“Fair. Would you like a different question?”

He searched her. Her already labored breathing sped up. The veins standing out in her forehead pulsed faster. She had a question for him alright. “The same one,”

 She said finally.

Disappointing. But he had time to get what he wanted from her. He was a fan of the hunt. “In the bathrooms, I was recording you and your partner.”

“So if we hadn’t…”

“If you hadn’t had your little tête-à-tête in the restroom with that shameful display of a fake attempt at bathroom sex, the tour would have gone differently. I would have showed you the next exhibit, a collection of girls who are perfectly suited to be furniture, not that I thought they’d be a good sale for you two, but they’re just fun. Then, I would have shown you a couple of very well trained slaves that you could have played with.”

She couldn’t hide the crushing disappointment in her face. He could imagine on the other side of the glass, her partner screaming into her panty gag that it wasn’t true, that they were screwed from the moment they had stepped into his warehouse. “I’m curious, what would you have done if things had played out the way you wanted?”

“What do you mean?”

“Who would you have bought? Assuming I didn’t give up the game on my end, surely you weren’t going to try and arrest the old man showing off the goods. You were after Wesley, the head honcho!” He raised his arms theatrically.

Her head hung downwards, facing the floor, as though the energy required to just look up at him was too much for her. “I don’t know.”

“I’ll trade you one more straight answer for your answer. I heard your partner tell you that you could just pick one girl to buy. I want to know, who would it have been? I know you didn’t get the full tour, I’m sorry about that. I got impatient and wanted to show you my favorite, but of what you got to see, what would you have taken home with you?”

Grace didn’t answer. She closed her eyes.

“Do you need a refresher? I understand a lot has happened for you in between now and the tour.” He went over to the door and retrieved his tablet. He tapped quickly as he limped back, bringing up the girls from the showroom. “Were you interested in 47346? The subservient maid?” he asked, holding up the tablet, swiping through pictures of the first helpless slavegirl. Grace looked at the screen, her breath hitching. “No? How about 49217?” he asked, switching to pictures of the former dancer in the harem girl outfit. He swiped through a gallery of pictures, of her in more outfits that showed off her dancer’s physique, of her naked, of her bound, restrained, helpless. “Anyone from the petting zoo, perhaps? 49156? 48773?” He scrolled through the images faster, assaulting her with image after image of helpless women in bondage. Puppy girls, pony girls, kitty girls, each one just as helpless as the last. “What about 45822?” he asked, showing her the fattened up pig girl. “You seemed to have a bit of empathy with her plight?”

A tear dripped from Grace’s eyes, splashing on the screen held below her face. His fingers scattered the salty droplet as he kept swiping. “What about 41290? She did bear a small resemblance to your partner?” he asked, flashing through images of the fit pony girl. “Would you buy her? Would you like to own her? What slave would you like to have?”

“Stop!”

“Her?” he asked, looking at the massive breasted hucow displayed on the screen, a milking machine hooked up to her overfull udders, a black and white spotted ballgag plugging her mouth.

“Just stop,” Grace sobbed, her eyes screwed shut, fat tears dripping onto the screen held inches from her face.

He pulled back the tablet, cracking his knuckles in the process. He had what he wanted. “You really didn’t see what you wanted on the display floor, did you?”

She shook her head, barely, but the tips of her dangling hair shook.

He walked around her and started untying the rope binding her wrists. “Thank you for your honesty.”

As soon as her arms were free they flopped down below her and she swung back and forth as she was freed from the strict strappado. She swung gently by her ankles, her fingertips grasping at nothing, still a meter off the floor. Wesley sauntered over to the mirror, glancing at where he knew Ellie to be watching before turning his back to the mirror and watching Grace.

As she stopped swinging, she looked up at her bound ankles. With a grunt, she tried to pull her body up so she could reach her ankles. If she could reach them, they weren’t locked, and she’d be able to free herself. Wesley just watched as she made several attempts to get her hands up to her ankles. She was in a good shape, and he had no doubt that if she was fresh, she’d be able to perform the feat with relative ease. But after being drugged for transport, after being left hanging for well over an hour, she wasn’t even getting close.

“Would you like help?” he offered.

She grunted as she tried getting some momentum by swinging, and was quickly left swaying helplessly, her arms hanging limply beneath her. As her swinging slowed, she made eye contact with him, leaning against the mirror, his arms crossed across his chest, smiling smugly at her.

“Here.” He walked back across the room, holding up his cane. He pointed it up, finding the quick release button on the cuffs. With a simple push her right leg was free.

“Shit!” she cried, covering her face as she was sent swinging again, dangling by just one leg.

“I’m here to help you,” he said, stepping closer.

She craned her neck to look up at him. He was slowly moving the tip of his cane towards her left leg. One push and she’d fall on her head.

“Grab on,” he said.

“No,” she shook her head. One more tear dripped from her eyes.

“Let me help you or fall.”

Her breathing came in angry grasps as she awkwardly grabbed his waist, holding on. He pushed his cane at the safety release, and her left leg came free. He dropped the cane and lunged forward to get his arms under her body as she fell. He had to put his weight on his bum leg, and searing pain rocketed up his whole body. He grit his teeth and growled through the pain, savoring it as he caught his captive, adjusting her so she was cradled in his arms. He held her there, his leg screaming, as he stared at the mirror, showing Ellie her partner in his arms, until he couldn’t hold her anymore and he let go of her legs, dropping her to her feet.

Grace stumbled, unable to stand on her own as the blood rushed from her head. She staggered into the glass, holding herself up while she got her bearings. She looked up, watching Wesley behind her in the mirrored surface as he limped up behind her. He was undoing his belt with one hand.

“No, no, no,” she said. She tried to turn around, but he was already behind her, pushing her up against the one way mirror. Her naked, sweaty body pressed up against the glass as he pulled out his throbbing dick and forced himself upon her.

“If I could take anything from the showroom, it would be you,” he growled into her ear. She swung her arms back at him, but he grabbed them, holding them above her head against the glass. His leg was on fire, and the act of catching her had winded him, but it also fueled him. He’d not had an erection like this without enhancement in a longtime, and he intended to use it, penetrating the weakened agent.

“Stop!” Grace cried.

“Make me!” he growled, thrusting into her tight pussy.

She struggled, but even with all her self-defense training, she was too weak and still disoriented from being suspended upside down for so long. She couldn’t push herself away from the glass, where she was completely oblivious to the fact that her partner was being granted a front row seat to her rape.

“If you don’t want this, stop me, 52374!”

She whimpered as he yelled her number into her ear. She couldn’t stop him. She could do nothing while her new owner took her. She pressed her face against the cool glass, crying.

“You’re mine now. You belong to me!” he roared as he came inside her, pumping his load deep into the defeated agent. Just as he did, his leg gave out finally, and he collapsed onto the ground, pulling her with him. She lay there on the cold tile floor, whimpering, while he rolled over and crawled towards his discarded cane. Ellie would only get to witness him climbing back up into sight through the one way mirror. She’d have to watch him straighten out his shirt, slick back his hair, and limp purposefully to the back door. He looked back at the glass and gave his other captive a smile and a wink before shutting off the light, cutting off her view of the room.

Wesley nodded at one of his staff that was waiting outside. “Give her a couple minutes, then get her cleaned up and locked away for the night.”

“Yes sir,” the slaver said, rubbing his hands together. They wouldn’t be able to do what he did to the new girls, but fresh meat was always fun.

As soon as he was out of sight, Wesley staggered, needing both the support of the wall and his cane to make it further into his compound. He stopped before the offices, taking a moment to get his breath and compose himself, before striding in. “What have we got?” he asked, throwing his hands wide. Inside, nearly a dozen slavers were on computers. He walked up behind a large black man tapping away at a keyboard, a naked and chained slave between his legs, sucking his dick while he worked away on the computer.

“I found who they are,” Luke said, pulling up two windows on his monitor. Wesley leaned over his shoulder, looking at the screen.

“Special Agent Elizabeth Harper, and Special Agent Grace O’Conner.”

“Bonus points to Grace, she was honest with me,” he mused. “Why them?”

“Well, it looks like Elizabeth arrested one of our clients a couple years back.”

“Oh?” Wesley asked.

Luke pulled up another screen. “Kirk Brentwood. He bought 22154.” Luke brought up the records of a slave, a skinny, white, blonde girl.

“What?”

“We got her back, right after Brentwood was arrested, but it seems Elizabeth talked to her before we could reacquire her. Seems that what set her after us.”

“What about Brentwood?”

“He’s in jail.”

“Mmm, well, figure out if it was him that squealed. And make sure he doesn’t have an opportunity to do so again.”

“Roger that, boss.”

“What about the other one?” He pointed at Grace’s picture.

“She’s a pretty low level agent. But you might find this interesting. Her sister went missing when she was in college.”

Wesley watched intently as Luke brought up a series of online news posts about a missing girl. He skimmed quickly, finding details. Tanya O’Conner, missing after a college party, investigation went cold, finally declared legally dead three years later.

“So that’s what she was looking for.  Good work,” Wesley said, patting Luke on the shoulder. “Was it us?”

Luke shook his head. “I didn’t see any record of her, but it’s possible. I’ll double check.”

“Yes, do that.” He lifted his cane and poked the forehead of the slave whose lips were wrapped around Luke’s cock. She tilted her head back and looked up, not removing her mouth from Luke’s massive member. “Give your master the blowjob of your life,” he said. “He’s earned it.”

The slave nodded rapidly and began working Luke’s dick with renewed vigor.

“What’d we do with 22154?”

“We resold her.”

“Reach out, find out if her owner would be interested in letting his slave have a reunion with an old friend. And double check on the Tanya O’Conner girl. We’re going to have some fun with these two!”

“Will do boss.”

Wesley started back towards the door and then stopped, looking around. “Gentlemen, we got raided by the FBI today.”

The room had already hushed when he entered, but now even the tap tap of fingers on keyboards stopped, the only noise being slurping of Luke’s slave over the faint hum of computer fans.

“Two agents managed to get through our screening process and made it all the way to the showroom.”

All eyes were on him. All slaver eyes anyways. He worked the silence, making eye contact with every one of his employees.

“But those two agents are now in our custody!” he roared.

There was an immediate, relieved, cheer.

“We can’t be stopped! And if they want to keep coming for us, let them keep sending hot agents!”

The cheering continued. He raised both hands in the air, holding up his cane. He bowed, and turned and walked out of the room, the chanting of his name echoing behind him.

He walked proudly back to his room. His personal pet’s caretaker was asleep on her cot by the door, but she woke up when he came in, quickly standing and giving him a polite curtsey.

“Are you glad to have your charge back?” he asked the slave.

She nodded enthusiastically, moaning into her gag.

“Was she good for you?”

She nodded again.

“Did you get to cum?”

She really nodded, her heavy breasts bouncing with her head as she moaned happily.

“Good girl.” He patted her on the head and then gave her ass a playful slap. “Go back to sleep.”

She nodded, curtseying again before curling back up on her tiny cot.

He walked back to his bedroom, flicking on the light. Waiting for him in bed was 7023. The former detective was bound in place, naked, spread eagle and gagged. His entrance hadn’t awoken her. He watched her as he limped over to the edge of the bed and started undressing. “I think you’ll like my two new playthings,” he said, softly stroking her hair.

She moaned, her eyes slowly flickering open. She met his gaze, and gave him an annoyed look.

“Someone’s grumpy,” he said, rolling into bed next to her. “I know it’s late, but I had to spend some time with the new girls.”

“Gnnnmph,” she moaned, looking away.

“Don’t be upset. The redhead, she already took care of my needs, but that doesn’t mean I won’t take care of you.”

The helpless detective shook her head, grunting into her gag.

He smiled as he climbed between her legs. He was glad to see that she still had that fight she had displayed when he’d showed the FBI agents to her. It had been too long since she’d put up a fight.

“I think the four of us can have a lot of fun together,” he said as he went down on her. She shuddered with revulsion, straining against the ropes that held her in place while he ate her out. She could fight it all she wanted, but he’d make her cum. Wesley always got what he wanted.