Kinktober 2021 #1-5

Content Warnings: BDSM Fantasy, non-consensual, F/m, M/f, F/F, femdom, lesdom, bondage, kidnapping, sex slaves, The Corporation, Bianca Lanese, Corrupt Cops, Gated Community,

Horror/Kidnapped 

               Our targets were actresses. Four twenty-somethings playing high school cheerleaders in a low budget horror flick. Corporate gave the wannabe filmmakers some funding in exchange for access to some merchandise. That’s how Corporate works, through intermediaries. Other people set up the traps and pickup guys like us get them where they’re going.

               The ladies were only on set long enough to die. That was it. Just one scene of them all getting killed by the slasher. They were all covered in fake blood when we got ahold of them.

               One of them was twenty-eight, a full decade older than the eighteen-year-old she was playing. She was a tall, busty brunette.

Over on the other end of the scale, the youngest was twenty-two. Blonde and fit as hell. The only one of the four who had actually been a cheerleader when she was younger.

               There was also a petite twenty-three-year-old black woman and another blonde. This one had cute short hair and a fantastic ass.

               We were supposed to pick up a makeup artist too. A redhead with a lot of tattoos. But she had to go to the bathroom right before we made our move. One of our guys shut and locked the trailer door seconds after she left. We drove it away without realizing we only got four of our five targets. Pure coincidence. But hey, it happens.

               It was a hell of a sight when we opened up that trailer. Four hot cheerleaders with “blood” splattered all over the white and gold uniforms they were still wearing. They were all pretty feisty too. We had to go into the trailer and drag them out one by one. None of them made it easy for us. The brunette even tried jamming her cigarette into my eye.

               Nice try babe.

               I didn’t punish her for it or give her an extra smack or anything. I get it, I wouldn’t want to be a slave either. Can’t blame her for fighting back.

               Still, we got them all nice and secure in the end. We’re professionals and had all the tools on hand. Cuffs. Ballgags. Collars and leashes. It took a bit longer than usual, but soon they were chained up at the wrists and ankles, collared, and gagged. Then we got rid of anything that could be used to track them. Phones, credit cards, ID, you know what I’m talking about.

Into the system they went.

               The blondes went out east to join one of those costume places Corporate keeps over there. Last I heard, one of them got bought by a smitten customer and the other is still a cheerleader. I don’t know which of them went where.

               The petite ebony one caught the eye of an executive. That happens every once in a while. The bosses are usually good about keeping themselves from taking the merchandise for themselves, but they can’t always help it. Lucky her, I guess. Gets to live in a nice big house and everything.

               As for the brunette twenty-eight-year-old, I think she wound up in one of the Resorts up in the mountains. I can’t remember if it was the Rockies or the Alps, but she’s out there. I hear they found out she can sing and put her to work in the lounge when she’s not having private time with the customers.

               All in all, it was a pretty routine pickup.

Mimic/Pumpkin

               “It’s a mimic! Get it?”

               James looked down at his wife Christina’s Halloween decoration. One of her studs was sitting cross legged inside an enormous orange bowl. The pale slave’s back was enveloped by a shell shaped like the top half of a pumpkin. The front of each half was decorated to look like a snarling mouth, ready to clamp down on anyone who got too close.

               The stud himself was appropriately hooded, gagged, and bound with leather restraints. It looked rather cramped inside that contraption. James didn’t miss the horrified, yet relieved stare Christina’s second stud was giving a few feet away. The poor naked bastard felt bad for his peer even if he was plainly happy to not be contorted into such a position himself.

               “Christina, honey,” James said calmly. His wife’s beaming face grew still, her eyes suspicious. “As funny as this, I don’t think our neighbors will understand the reference.”

               James looked around. At first glance the remote gated community James and Christina Lowell had moved into just a few months prior looked like any normal well-to-do neighborhood. But when one looked closer, the differences soon became apparent.

               A few houses down there was a man mowing a lawn, naked save for his steel chastity belt and muzzle. Across the street, a maid stepped out to get her Master’s mail. Her uniform—a very tight latex skirt, high heels, fishnet stockings, and a skimpy apron dress—was not fit for the majority of polite company. Just next door there was a catgirl slave with hair dyed bright green curled up on the porch.

               Inside the houses would be more slaves. Live human property of all kinds. And of course, the dungeons, cages, and cells they were kept in. A Corporation-run gated community dedicated to allowing its residents to openly display their slaves for their neighbors to see and occasionally enjoy.

               Few of the houses were decorated for Halloween.

               Somehow James doubted many of the other residents would recognize his wife’s decoration as a reference to Dungeons and Dragons, either.

               Christina rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. Her naked stud abruptly came to attention as the chain leading down from the collar at his neck banged against his stomach. “Oh, who cares if they get it? It’s still a pumpkin with a mouth and sharp teeth. They’ll get the idea. Now stop being such a stick in the mud and come inside. I want to show you what I’ve done with your sluts.”

               James sighed and dutifully followed his exuberant wife inside.

Trick/Secretary

               Bianca Lanese always hired male secretaries for herself. It was a little trick of hers, both for the outside world and for herself. They were always attractive young men. Usually handsome, occasionally pretty. The current model, Cameron Franks, was something in between. He had been with Bianca longer than most. Cameron was an efficient, professional, and discreet employee. Bianca had come to rely on him when operating in the more legal and socially acceptable aspects of her business.

               Really though, his abilities and credentials had little to do with his hiring. Cameron was there for two reasons. The first was to be an attractive male for outsiders to assume Bianca was having fun with on the side. And the second was to help Bianca keep herself from hiring an attractive woman she might be tempted to take for her private use.

               Hmm. The thought had always tempted the powerful woman. Bianca resolved to have her pets dress as secretaries one day soon. She could imagine Chestnut in a dark gray suit, or Flora in charcoal…

               One day a colleague asked to buy Bianca’s secretary.

Bianca thought about it. It was a fellow board member—not of Bianca’s own corporation, but the other Corporation she was on the board of—who asked. Not someone to treat flippantly. A harsh no might cause offense and Bianca had enough enemies to deal with. Besides, Bianca had bought her pet redhead Sky from this colleague. One could argue there was a favor owed.

               But Cameron belonged to her, even if Bianca had no interest in playing with him.

               The young man had no idea any of this was happening. He had no idea his boss, a woman he admired, was debating the notion of selling him into slavery.

               If Bianca decided to do it, he would be bundled up in heavy restraints and delivered to his new owner within days, if not hours. There he would be encased in rubber and spend the next several years as a faceless gimp. He might never find out what led to it, or his owner would have fun telling him who it was that sold him. Bianca doubted that, though. The board member in question rarely bothered speaking to their property.

               “I’m sorry, but no,” was Bianca’s eventual answer. She kept her eyes on her security feed of Cameron’s desk, where the young man was checking his email. “I can acquire another male for you, free of charge, but I’ve come to rely on this one. He will remain where he is for the foreseeable future.”

Careful/Bungee

               Thrill-seekers came in two flavors. The idiots you saw on Jackass and the careful ones who did their best to keep things as safe as possible. The latter type kept their equipment ready, paid attention to the weather, and always seemed to have their permits and permissions in order.

               It was a bit of a pain for State Troopers Kara Denning and Gabrielle Diaz to find an excuse to shake a pair of the latter type of thrill-seekers down, but orders were orders. It didn’t matter if those orders came from their superior officer or the shadowy “Corporation” that was blackmailing and paying them acquire stock, the two corrupt Troopers would follow through either way.

               As it happened, they pulled up to the two would-be base jumpers just as they were finished setting up their bungee cord and one of them was ready to make their jump. Denning would never understand the desire some people had to leap off a bridge into a gorge with only a bungee cord to stop you from going splat. A careful idiot was still an idiot.

               It was a pair of rich girls. Friends, lovers, Denning didn’t remember. Diaz was the one who read the briefings. One was tall, lanky, and had sun-kissed brown hair. The other had dyed her hair platinum blonde long enough ago that her darker roots were plainly visible. It went well with her vacant rich girl smile.

               They were confused like all the others, protesting that they didn’t do anything wrong as the stocky blond Trooper and her tall, dusky partner cuffed them and shoved them into the back seat of their vehicle. No playtime with these bitches. Denning and Diaz were both straight as arrows. No interest in wasting time with the new stock when it was all-girl.

               Still, it was fun to watch the pickup boys gag and hogtie them before stuffing them into a trunk just a few miles away from their base-jumping bridge. Denning even gave the tall one a smile and a wave as the door was shut over her.

               Denning hated giving credit to these blackmailing “Corporate” fuckers who put her and Diaz on a leash. But even she had to admit they ran a tight ship.

Cold/Metal 

               Sometimes, when the wind was blowing and snow flying all about the air, Lindsey would stop for a second and stare out the window. She had grown up in Louisiana, spent her whole life down south, and had no real idea of just how cold it could be out there in the mountains until she was brought here. And even now they didn’t exactly let her outside very often.

               By God were those mountains beautiful. The Rockies. Enough of the other “staff” at this glorified brothel had seen either them or the other big mountain ranges around the world that everyone knew that by now. Not that it helped anyone much. They could be anywhere from Canada to the top of New Mexico. Even the guests were flown in from Corporate-owned planes and didn’t know their exact location.

               Corporate. That was what the trainers and managers called the invisible organization that owned this place and all the “staff” help captive inside. Lindsey hated it. The organization itself, for incredibly obvious reasons, and the stupid nickname. Calling it a corporation almost gave it a veneer of legitimacy.

               Assholes.

               Lindsey had been nineteen when they snatched her up. She’d traveled down to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, fell asleep in a crowded bar, and woke up in a truck bound up with enough other girls and a few guys. There weren’t even enough gags for everyone.

               One of the other captives was a PI who explained about the world’s underground market for sex slaves. She talked about the rumors about these vile people who kidnapped unsuspecting victims to sell off to rich folk. Said there were even secure, remote gated communities that let slaves walk around as if it were all normal, or “academies” and other special training places that pretended to be schools or farms or whatever. Then she said there were some places that sold its “products” directly to its customers and others who kept them on and let the customers come to them.

               Obviously, Lindsey ended up with the latter.

               Now she was twenty-one, staring out the window at the snowy outsides while sitting at the foot of a luxurious bed and waiting for whatever guest she was the “complimentary accommodation” for this week. She was wearing a full set of lacy black lingerie complete with opera gloves and silver high heels, expertly applied makeup, and her bright blonde hair fell down around her head in gorgeous waves.

               And chains.

               Chains were rare, to be honest. Whoever was checking out this room must have requested them special to go with the blonde bombshell inside. Her wrists and ankles were manacled, with the lengths of chain connecting them to each other and to the gleaming metal collar at her neck. The metal had been cold when they first put it on, but it warmed up fast against Lindsey’s skin.

               Lindsey rattled it a bit. There wasn’t much else to do. Just sit on the bed, wait, and stare out at the cold mountain range outside the window.