JASON (7 page)

He sees how ugly I am. It won’t matter to him if he hurts me.
Sierra was aware that there were at least two other girls being held captive, and she imagined them to be beautiful young women. She knew she was the discard and the ridiculous looking girl her abductor would amuse himself with.

After she completed the horrible act and licked the thick tube as he had ordered, the man had locked her back in her cage. Sierra hitched a sob.
He’s done with his ugly beast, for a while.

Jason walked upstairs and opened a beer. He sat in the living room to go through Sierra’s purse. It was actually more of a book bag, which was not a surprise. The contents were. There were two diet books and a large journal. Where he expected to be reading a diary, there were pages and pages of calorie counting and detailed information of an incredibly strict exercise regime. It left absolutely no time for a social life, and it was obvious the young woman never missed a single day of strengthening her body.

It was not until he went through her wallet and saw her family photos that Jason began to figure it out. Huge people filled the frames, with Sierra huddled towards the back, hiding and nervously smiling. He looked over at the torn baggy clothes on the floor. It took a few moments, and then Jason smiled. He knew how to work with his new pleasure slave.

Jason fed the girls dinner and locked them into their cages. A few hours later, they heard him come down and the sound of S’s cage being unlocked. She trembled and quietly cried, but did not fight him. Her pussy was bruised and aching, and the welts throbbed.

Sierra allowed herself to be secured to the table, and she cringed when his fingers touched her breast. She felt a cool ointment or lotion easing the pain from the red marking. “You are quite beautiful, S. I hope it does not take many lashings to break through your disobedience.”

Sierra blushed in furious denial and she turned her head towards the cages. Her eyes filled with tears.
How dare he make fun of me? He can whip me all he wants, but why lie to me?
People had laughed at Sierra’s awkward stature, with her pixie freckled looks on a gangly giant, almost her entire life. Even her sisters told her they were lucky to escape the red hair and freckles.

He laid a cool rag over her pussy while he put the lotion on the welt on her thighs. “Such long, slender legs. You are a statuesque beauty, S.”

Slender? He’s got to see the puckered fatty skin. Stop it
, she begged silently.

“Let’s see. You’re five-ten, and your journal says you weigh one thirty-five. I saw the pictures of your family,” he chuckled. “Those sisters have to weigh in at one hundred pounds more. I bet their legs weigh more than you do. They must be so jealous. You were awarded the body and the flaming hair, and they ended up washed out brunettes with round faces.”

Sierra was still bright red, but she listened and gazed into the darkness. She saw herself fat in the mirror, but she had never considered that she truly did weigh more than one hundred pounds less than either Lisa or Judy. This made no sense. She
knew
she was fat. Sierra was positive there was a distinct waddle when she walked, and her thighs brushed together.
Not my thighs, really. The loose pants. And the red hair… I guess I wasn’t teased so much in high school.

Jason was rubbing her nipples again, and they finally began to firm.
Just a fractured ego.
It was a strange situation. Usually, he worked on breaking the pride out of his captives, not building it up. He brushed lower down her belly and watched the freckled skin rise in little bumps. Jason lifted the cloth and gently trailed a finger through copper curls.

Sierra squirmed and tried to shift her bottom. “Be still, S. Just relax and let me touch you.”

Oh god.
Sierra had used her own fingers on herself, but never a man. Well, except for Andy Clayburn in the barn a few times.
Oh god.
Sierra could not imagine that a man knew where to touch. She began crying and turning impossibly flushed with embarrassment.
I’m wet. Oh god. I’m getting wet.
The man was going to think she was a slut. A fat, ugly slut.
But, I’m not fat. He said I’m not. And he says he likes my hair.
The small thoughts of unexpected confidence pushed her into a squealing orgasm that surprised both of them.

“I knew it,” Jason said. Sierra thought it sounded as though he was smiling while she sucked huge gasps through her mouth. “I knew you were a passionate woman. No one could be so beautiful and not be filled with desire.”

Sierra thought that the way he spoke to her was straight out of a romance novel. There was nothing sappy when he said the words, and a part of her was beginning to believe him.

Through the next few weeks, Jason continued to convince her how desirable she was. It was getting to be a contest between J and S as to who was anticipating his appearance more. It was strange, but J did not seem jealous of S. She continued to scowl occasionally when A was called on. He had no idea the affect the first tormenting morning S spent in the cellar had had on J. J was still convinced that if S screwed up, she would be punished in ways that J never was.

While Sierra was having her ego rebuilt in Jason’s dungeon, her outside life was being torn apart. She was wrong about the neighbors. When she did not show up by Saturday morning, they broke into her side of the duplex and cleaned it out. They sold everything they could for drug money, transferred food to their own side, and split clothes they considered salvageable. Everything else they threw on a bonfire they made out back, lit by stacks of her books.

When the landlord did not receive his weekly payment on Sunday and he saw that she had moved, he cursed at the mess Sierra had left. He moved a hollow eyed couple in on Monday. Maddie thought something was off on Tuesday, but she still did not voice concerns until Wednesday. When police reported that Sierra had moved out of her apartment, Maddie was disappointed that the girl she considered a friend had not at least called to say goodbye before moving to Overland or Napier for the new job she must have found.

* * * * *

September 7
^th
-
Police received a report on a possible missing twenty-one year old woman. Sierra Marsh was last seen a week ago, leaving a bus stop and walking towards her job at the Singleton Shopping Plaza. Since that time, her family and employer have told authorities they have not heard from her.

Neighbors stated that Ms. Marsh moved from her apartment on Saturday, and her employer admitted the young woman was looking for other employment. Her family has issued the statement that the young woman had always expressed wishes to leave the farmlands and rural life in Arkansas.

The police have filed the report as closed, and anyone with information is urged to call Nicki Sorrell at the Napier Herald. -
N. Sorrell; Napier Herald Newspaper.

“What the hell are you doing, Nicki? We can’t print this.”

“Max, please. I have a feeling about this. This is the third month in a row that a young woman has disappeared,” Nicki argued.

“Disappeared, hell. They think the first one ran off with a boyfriend, the second one is out spending her daddy’s money, and this one has
moved
, Nicki. Her job was ending and she decided to get the fuck out of Singleton.” Max ran his fingers through his hair. “Shit, everyone is getting the hell out of Singleton.”

“But, Max, Janice didn’t date. Everyone says so. Maybe Amy took off, but she hasn’t used any credit cards for over a month. Sierra was real close to the owner of the bookstore. She worked there since it opened, three years ago. The owner says she never missed a single day. No way would the girl take off without saying goodbye.”

“Nicki, I’m telling you. There is
no
story. Now, if we print something that’s going to start scaring the hell out of people, I’m going to have the police and god knows who else breathing down my neck.”

“Please don’t cut it, Max. Something’s going on. I can feel it.”

“I’m sorry, Nicki. I can’t run the newspaper on your feelings for things. If the police revise their stance on the women, the story is yours.”

Nicki gave in, popped a pill, and drove home. She was resting in a warm bubble bath within the hour, with candles and soft music to go with a warm glass of red wine.

She had no close friends, other than Max. The two had fumbled through a yearlong relationship and eventually called it quits. The only way that Nicki could get aroused was with a blindfold and her hands bound tightly behind her. She lay back in the warm water and let her mind drift… back to college… back to darkness… and a stranger in a van.

Her finger lowered to her pussy and she began stroking her wet slit while she bruised a nipple, pinching it between two nails. As usual, her climax was a passionate gasp that ripped through her. It was an experience and feeling Nicki craved, and one that Max and straight sex could never accomplish.

Chapter V

“Do you think the Master has left again?” A whispered.

“I think so. It seems to be the only time he doesn’t get us rigged up in the morning,” J answered.

S was amazed that the other young women were speaking. “Isn’t he going to hear us?” she whispered.

“If he does record it, he doesn’t punish us,” J answered. In truth, she had only spoken to A the last time the Master left. “The other times he’s left like this, he’s brought another slave back.”

“What’s going to happen to us? I mean, he can’t keep bringing girls back. He must get rid of them, somehow,” A whispered.

“Unless we’re the first,” S suggested. “But, the Master seems pretty well organized for that.”

The girls were silent for a moment. “I just hope I live,” A said. “I’ll do anything he wants, as long as he won’t kill me.”

The girls were quiet after that. They wondered if it would come down to a contest… and they wondered if any of them would be winners.

The Master came home a long time later, and the girls listened from their cages as another young woman was introduced to the cellar. This one was quiet, and she spent the night crying into her mattress.

In the morning, she had to be pulled out of her cage, but she made her way to the Master by the time he counted down from ten. Slave O was scared to death. She just did not want him to hurt her, and she wanted to go home.

Olivia had ended a two-year relationship last spring, and she had moved from the city to Arkansas. After studying real estate listings, it seemed like an affordable place to eventually buy a few acres for horses. Jasper Community Junior College was within driving distance of her apartment, and someday she wanted to go to school and get a law degree… after she took a high school equivalency exam.

Olivia was slightly confused about things, and she had no idea that a two-year college was not a streamlined version of a regular university. She thought she had planned well by discovering how much money she could save, by applying herself and earning a law degree in two years.

Olivia pictured herself aggressively arguing in court against injustices such as reverse age discrimination about old, rich people getting discounts that young people her age needed. It was a pet peeve, and would be her first winning case. Three months ago, in an effort to follow her dream to become an attorney, she had picked up a book to study for her high school diploma. The test was not for another month so she had not actually opened it yet.

Olivia had many plans and dreams that swirled through her mind and never seemed to come to fruition, though she stayed optimistic. After all, she
had
moved to Arkansas, even though her apartment only looked out onto a ranch. She had managed to sparsely furnish the living room with a sleeper sofa and other garage sale stuff. She never cooked, so the kitchen was empty. A real coup was landing the job at the Overland Law Offices, filing and running errands and learning the ins and outs of a law firm for when she had earned her degree. All in all, Olivia considered her life was right on track.

Friday afternoon, the partners at the law office were working late, as usual. Olivia was supposed to get off at five, and she mumbled when they sent her for sandwiches. “What was that, Olivia?” Gerald Freemont called out.

Shit.
“Nothing, sir. I’ll be right back.” Olivia grabbed her purse and headed for the elevator. “If they keep wanting me to work until seven on Fridays, they should pay me overtime. I might have plans and stuff.”

As entry level, Olivia did not make enough money for ‘plans and stuff’. The cute little Italian was five three, with straight, glossy black hair that swung to her hips and amber eyes with a golden glow. Her breasts were a little large for her frame, but nothing a man would complain about. As pretty as she was, and as good as she was in the sack, men still lost interest after a few dates… and women simply would not put up with the challenge of being a friend to a gorgeous little ditz.

Olivia’s attention span lasted five minutes, tops. She procrastinated, was late for work and every appointment, forgetful, and a general pain in the ass for employers and friends to baby sit. It was not that Olivia was unaware of what she considered to be her few shortcomings. She had a self-help book she bought at a garage sale. It was sitting under the high school aptitude manual.

Jason did not even bother to hide the van from her. It was parked in the midst of a long line of cars in the alley beside the office complex. This was where the late working lawyers all parked to avoid the fees from the garage across the street. He watched through the passenger mirror, waiting for the distracted young woman to walk around the corner.

The shortcut to the deli ran down the alley. Olivia could knock on the back door and Sam would let her in. Sometimes, he met her with the bag already packed. Olivia watched the ground, trying to avoid the worst of the potholes with her heels. She had snapped one off her good pair a month ago while walking to get their sandwiches. It pissed Olivia off, because the lawyers never offered to pay for the repair and they knew that the deli would deliver. The cheap-ass lawyers just did not want to have to tip.

Amelia told her that the law firm gave great holiday bonuses, so Olivia figured she was due for a whopper in two months. One thing was for sure. Olivia decided that when she was a lawyer, she was not going to work for the Overland Law Offices. The guys were all jerks.

Olivia’s mind swirled with her ever-changing plans and Jason swooped behind her, dragging her into the open van door before she even lost consciousness. Olivia had only felt a brief moment of confusion, and she thought her heel had caught and she was falling again.

Instead, she woke to a pitch-black room, tied to a table with a man calling her a slave. He had taken off all her clothes. The scissors cut through them… even her sexiest black lace bra. She cried quietly. Olivia was not much of a screamer. Like everything else, she was not sure she should really be afraid.

He had put her in a cage and Olivia wished that he would take the horrible ring out of her mouth. She could not stop drooling and her arms hurt.
How am I supposed to sleep on this grungy little mattress with my arms stuck behind me? And, I need a blanket. I’m cold. And a pillow.
Whoever the man was, he was mean. He was a big jerk, just like the lawyers.

It took most of the night for Olivia to understand that she had been kidnapped. The situation made no sense to her. In the morning, the man had told her to come out of the cage. Olivia decided that it was better to stay inside, and that he should go away and leave her alone.

A hand gripped her ankle and pulled her out onto rough cement. That scared her. People might yell at her, which made her angry. They might get exasperated… but they never hurt her. Her bottom felt skinned, and the man was calling to her from across the room. Olivia stroked her red cheeks with her hands and crawled towards him on her knees, crying. She was terrified that he might actually pull her the whole way across the rough surface.

“Ah, my good little slave girl. You will be a prize, O.”

Olivia quivered, but her amber contacts looked blindly at his chest. She slowly nodded and sniffled.

For all her shortcomings and lack of education, Olivia was well versed in how to pleasure a man. What was more, she enjoyed it. She frowned about gags and restraints, but as long as she was allowed to climax, she was rather obedient. That was, until Jason introduced the little minx to pain.

Olivia had lost her gag within a week. Jason thought it might be a record. She had the cutest little pout when she was dissatisfied, but she had a hard time remembering not to speak. “How come you’re choosing J? You chose her last time.”

“O,” Jason sighed. “Be still. You don’t want me to gag you again.”

“No, Master.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed.
Did she just stick her tongue out at me?
O had inadvertently become a distraction in the cellar. A few times, Jason thought he caught A holding back laughter at O’s confusion. The young woman seemed not to care less that she had been kidnapped or that she was blind.

In the evening, while Jason reviewed his slaves’ progress, he reluctantly admitted that this was not going to be his best offering. It did not help that his nights were consumed with Nicki.
Just a few more weeks.

“O, be still.”

“I can’t, Master, it hurts. Please don’t hurt me.” O searched the room trying to locate him, with her most disarming pout.

“Be still,” Jason demanded. He reached out and twisted her nipple, and she squealed.

O’s bottom lip trembled.
My arms don’t bend that way.
The Master had her arms behind her, bent so that her hands were pointed at the ceiling. He had wrapped a mile of thin rope around them and now he was wrapping it over, under, and around her large breasts. Her circulation in her boobies was being cut off. O stomped her foot.

“Be still,” Jason warned. The delightful aspect was that he had only had the girl three weeks, and she was not even restrained while he wound the ropes on her. She stood before his chair, throwing her mini-tantrum of discomfort, but otherwise remaining in place.

“Owie, owie, owie,” O wailed. “Not the clamps, Master. Please.”

Jason shook his head. The clamps pressed into her protruding dark nipples and he decided to hang weights from them.

O stomped her foot again. “Owie,” she wailed. They swung and pulled when she moved.

“Go ahead, dance. See how it feels,” Jason coaxed. “I told you to stay still.”

“I told you it hurts, Master,” O reminded him.

“O, I have explained this to you.” Jason rarely explained anything, but O was a different subject. She would do just about anything, albeit with some complaining.

“It still hurts,” she assured him. O felt the horrible thick plug against her lips and she opened her mouth while tears slid from her eyes. There was no sense in arguing. She had pushed him too far. The Master told her to kneel, and she remained with the binding ropes holding her arms in a reverse prayer while her boobies turned blue.

O heard him walk over to the other slave sisters. She knew that her outburst had cost her extra time while he worked with them. By the time he came back, her nipples felt as though they were going to pop off. The worst part was when he began removing the restraints. As much as they hurt while they were on, it was torture to have them removed.

The weights were taken off and that was not bad. O cried when the clamps opened and blood filled her tips. “Owie,” she wailed behind her gag. It was just as painful when the ropes were unwound. She cuddled in his lap, and he used the vibrator to let her climax while she sniffled.
How the fuck am I going to show her for auction?
God, he had to get Nicki off his mind.

Jason walked upstairs and paced his living room. He finally placed the call. “Can you come here for a few days?”

“Problem?”

“Maybe. I might have to get Takeshi to finish them.”

“I can’t wait to meet this Miss November, Jason.” Makoto replied.

Jason froze. “You know?”

“Of course. When I said a central location, I figured you’d opt for Kansas City or something. Hicksville, Arkansas? I knew something had to be up.”

Jason thought for a moment. “The guards.”

“They not only watch out
for
you, Jason. They also watch you. They reported that you hadn’t been in town a week, when you began searching for her. After Takeshi told me you had hacked into her computer, it was confirmed. It just took me until last year to figure out why you never snagged her.” Makoto’s voice reflected a calm confidence. “If you did, you’d have to sell her… and you won’t do that.”

Jason was silent for a moment, and then he admitted, “No, Makoto. I won’t do that.”

“We all have our favorites, Jason. I just needed to give you a little push. You told me once that you were not set up for the commitment of a full-time personal slave. I think, maybe, you are now.”

“Makoto, the girls I have now are a pretty fucked up mess.”

“It might not be as bad as you think. I’ll be there on Friday and spend the weekend to analyze things.” Makoto hung up the phone, chuckling. He stroked the brown bob of the little slave sucking his cock. In the end, he observed that she might be weak, but she was a cute thing. Makoto decided that until he found a place for her he might as well keep her. Years had passed, and the right situation to sell the slave had never presented itself.

Makoto arrived at the farm, and after reviewing Jason’s notes he followed him down to the basement. The four slaves were kneeling in their cages, obviously anxiously waiting to find out which one their Master would choose. “Pretty creepy, Jason.” The blank, colorful eyes staring into nothingness was eerie. “Still, I can see how you get their attention and obedience, as they are defenseless.”

Makoto knew that the girls presumed the blindness was permanent. He had seen them when Jason put them to sleep for the trip overseas, and they would fawn all over him when they awoke and were able to see again. Their gratitude was almost as impressive as the defenselessness he saw now.

“Slaves, we have an important guest. We are going in order and I expect you to perform well.”

Oh, shit.
J had thought she had heard two sets of footsteps. Her fingers worked her pussy in frantic strokes.
I wonder what the Master will want me to do?
She heard her cage unlocked, but she waited for the order.

Makoto turned to Jason and asked, “Denial?”

Jason shook his head. “God no, it almost throws her into seizures. The slave orgasms twenty times a day.”

J was unsure if this was good or bad. For the past months, the Master had ordered her to keep herself aroused. She slowed her hands and let them sit on her thighs while her fingers rolled her slick juices on the pads.

Makoto was delighted. “What is her name?”

“J.”

“J, follow me.”

J shuffled out of her cage, and she stopped. She looked up to where she thought her Master was standing. Jason was amazed. It was not something he had taught her. “Go to Master Makoto and follow his orders.”