Desperate eyes stared out of the hood at her. A whimper escaped from the heavily gagged mouth. Eyes searched for a scrap of empathy, of mercy, of anything that might hint at the ordeal of their owner being lessened.

Linda craved that look.

It was a look that acknowledged, often after a long bout of resistance, her pet’s surrender. Her pet’s acknowledgement that they truly were helpless, and utterly within her power. A look that reduced them to the level of a supplicant, hopeful of mercy and reprieve, but unable to do anything but beg and plead. No longer anyone with agency.

It took some doing to achieve it more often than not, but in this particular instance the opportunity had fallen right into her hands.

Linda smoothed the contours of the thick leather hood holding her pet’s head in captive thrall, and smiled down at them. Her eyes traced along her new pet’s body. A young, adventurous woman out on a tourist boat through the islands, she had been dressed only in swimgear when Linda had happened upon her. Now of course, she wore nothing apart from her bondage. Strong tape, beginning at her ankles, wound all the way up to the collar at her neck, leaving her breasts open for Linda’s enjoyment. The girl lay in the open, casket-like container, that was going to be her home for the next day or so. Linda had been careful with all the preparations, and had already tested the viability of keeping her pets properly stored on several of the girl’s predecessors. She would be perfectly safe.

Not that the girl agreed with her, but pets tended to be like that in their first few weeks. It was only with steady training that they realized they were safe in their new roles. Linda shook her head fondly, stroking the girl’s shuddering form and humming a soothing melody to her.

This only seemed to reinforce the desperation in the girl’s eyes, and Linda’s smile widened,

“Not to worry love, you’re going to be taking a little nap for a while. And when you wake up you’ll be in your new home!” Linda patted her hooded cheek, “I even snagged that boy you were sitting with when the sedatives kicked in. Boyfriend? Husband? Doesn’t matter I suppose, neither of you are going to be doing anything with one another for a good long while.” The girl bleated into her gag, and Linda smiled, “How else am I meant to ensure you reorient your lives around your new Mistress if I just let you carry on with another slave. Rather silly of you Pet.”

Linda picked up the blindfold that went with the hood, and the girl let out a terrified squeal. But Linda ignored her, buckling the last piece in place, before slowly lowering the lid and snapping everything into place. The thick padding on the inside ensured that very little could be heard of the girl’s desperate struggles, of her panicked cries for help. Linda patted the container, and then shoved it into the waiting hole in the wall that would hold it until they reached their new destination.

As she stood up, she glanced along the remaining sockets. Five compartments filled on her second day out hunting for new stock. Rather fortunate in that, but she was torn now between simply turning back and getting her new slaves to their pens, or if she should press onwards and hope to come across another pair of candidates.

Linda left the room, pondering that, and entered her mini stateroom on her yacht. A large screen dominated the far wall, which already had her five new recruits listed and up on the auction site. True to her word, she had allocated the final girl and her probably boyfriend together as a slave couple. The two of them, as a result, had some of the highest bids on them from her select clientele, though the other three were going to net a pretty penny too.

Linda flicked her eyes away from the display for a moment, over to the bed, and grinned. A buxom redhead was lounging on the bed, in a slave costume modeled heavily off a certain sci-fi princess, complete with the metal collar chaining her to the bed. She was watching the display with half her attention, while using a hand to force the tour guide’s head between her legs. The poor fellow had been stripped and hogtied, and was utterly at her mercy.

“Such a lovely sight,” Linda purred as she approached the bed. The woman gave a start and bowed her head towards Linda without letting the guide up,

“Oh, Mistress. My apologies, I hadn’t realized you’d entered.”

“That’s alright Pet,” Linda murmured, settling onto the bed and cuddling up next to the chained woman, “Are you enjoying him?”

“He’s…mmmmm…adequate I suppose.” The woman said carefully.

“Good enough for sale?”

“He…” Linda enjoyed watching Pet as she struggled. Even after two years of ownership, she still had difficulty consigning candidates to slavery. Which was why Linda delighted in giving her the choice.

It was a splendid little game from her perspective. There was almost always one or two in any given trip who didn’t quite fit into Linda’s planned quota. Who she would bring back to her stateroom and leave strictly bound with her Pet, letting the woman get to know them a bit before she returned. And then she asked Pet if they should be sold. The first few times she had said no, Linda had calmly accepted it, and made the unfortunates into her newest crop of pony slaves on her little island paradise. Then when Pet had said that the next couple could be sold, she had placed with a revolving array of dommes. Some strict, some kind, some who would break them, others who would pamper them.

Pet learned, slowly, what she had to do to acquire a good prospective owner for them. Linda enjoyed it when Pet used the captives, and was often in a more forgiving mood when selecting their owners as a result. So Pet used them. Linda also enjoyed Pet’s attentions after she had finished playing with the candidates, so Pet was always careful to do her level best to provide her owner with pleasure. And finally, Linda absolutely detested easy answers and easy victories. She enjoyed the chase. The feints and attempts to win free, or find novel solutions. She enjoyed, more than anything, exacting tribute from Pet for finding their newest candidate slave a good home.

And so Linda was hardly surprised, though quite pleased, when instead of answering, Pet leaned over and whispered in a sultry voice, “Perhaps Mistress would care to play with her Pet?” She stroked her manacled hand up the side of Linda’s thigh, “Perhaps we could play with him together and I could show you some fun things to do with him?”

Linda smiled, enjoying the tinge of desperation that edged her Pet’s voice. Such a sweet, eager thing. Always doing her best to save these little cast offs from the worst aspects of slavery. Always trying to get them to the homes of pleasant, sensual mistresses, rather than the sadists to whom she had inadvertently committed the first several. Next to the desperation in the eyes of a recent capture, Pet’s long slow defeat was like a fine wine. Linda intended to savour every last drop…