Click on image to enlarge.

Category: Erotica/BDSM Erotica
Description: She looked forward to each new session as her master's plaything! Sexually naive Helen had to deliver important papers to a coworker immediately. She tracked him down in a bar and brashly went in to give him the documents, not realizing what kind of bar it was. But inside masters and their women slaves were at play. And when she was mistaken for a voluntary participant, Helen to her horror found herself being sold as a slave to a dominating master. But even more horrifying, Helen discovered she responded to sex as the man's helpless slave slave far more strongly than she had ever responded to plain, vanilla sex. Soon Helen finds herself looking forward eagerly to each new session as her highly-imaginative master's submissive plaything for the erotic ecstasy and release it brings her. But Helen has no idea how completely she has fallen in love with her master until he asks her a most unusual question.
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler Editions,
eBookwise Release Date: October 2008

22 Reader Ratings:

Great	Good	OK	Poor

Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [126 KB]
Words: 28512
Reading time: 81-114 min.

CHAPTER ONE

"Jay! Hey, hold up there!" Helen darted through the parking lot after the retreating figure. Her high heels clicked against the large paving stones, her jacket open as she ran, her fingers clutched around the stack of papers. "Jay! Stop. I know you can hear me!"

The man didn't stop. He didn't appear to hear her, despite her insistence he could hear every word, as he continued through the cars then turned out of sight, vanishing around the corner of lot entrance. Helen half stumbled, the heel of one shoe catching between two of the stones. By the time she'd worked her foot back into the fashionable pump and hurried after Jay, he was nowhere to be seen.

"Shit." She clutched the papers close and scowled. What was she supposed to do now? Hope the magic file fairy would appear and carry the paperwork away to deposit it in the right hands? Not a chance of that, no fairies, no magic spells, no genie in a bottle. It didn't change things, she had a pile of papers she was supposed to put into Jay's hands, or his client, and it had to be done before nine the following morning.

If the papers weren't handed off it would be her job on the line.

Where would he go? He's not heading for home, not tonight, not in that mood.

She didn't know where Jay lived, but she'd heard something about one of his local hangouts. It was some place he enjoyed going when the day was done, but it meant walking into a bar she didn't know and in an area of town she didn't like.

Discomfort, or her job?

With the bills she had coming in, she couldn't risk losing her only source of income. How bad could it be, anyway? All she had to do was follow him, drop off the files and leave.

Swearing, she turned and headed for her own parked car. Had Jay ordered a cab? He didn't have his car with him today since it was in for repairs. She knew because the man had spent the better part of the day complaining about the idiot who had slammed into his car. So, either a cab had picked him up, or a friend had, either way he wouldn't have agreed to walk two miles to the bar.

It wasn't that the man was unfit to walk the distance, he was definitely fit enough. Too damn proud was more like it. He wouldn't want to arrive at the bar sweaty, or dusty. His precious tailored suit might get dirty. She snorted and settled into the driver's seat. Great. He'd stormed off early and now she'd lose half her night chasing after him. This wasn't her day.

Ever since the man had taken over the office Helen's life had been turned upside down, or her work life had at least. Jay was a nightmare to work with. No, that was putting it politely. He'd walked in, changed the rules and kicked out two others who'd worked there, leaving Helen scrambling to cover the extra workload.

Her day ended when she closed down her computer--officially at least--but if she didn't get the papers to him it would be her fault. Even though it was his, he'd turn it around and make it clear she was to blame. He'd pulled that with one of the women he'd had sacked.

Bloody, fucking, wonderful.

She pulled the car out of the lot, and headed for the north side of town. If she was lucky she'd walk in, find him, dump the files then head out and be home before nine. Three hours later than she should have been home, but the traffic was already a nightmare and she was heading into it.

"Looking for someone?" A rough voice whispered into her ear only ten minutes after Helen had walked into the smoke filled bar. "Something I can help you with, girl? Maybe you're looking for someone to spend the night with? Well, you've come to the right place. Sweet looking thing like you shouldn't be alone..."

Helen's skin crawled. "I'm here to find someone ... err ... my boss. He comes here sometimes. At least I think he does."

"Ah, and what's his name?" The large man leaned a little closer.

"Jay Trent." Her throat tightened. "Do you know him?" Out of here, that's what she wanted. She needed to get out of here before it got much later.

"Hm, Trent. Yeah, I know him." The man's voice was gruff, a hint of anger behind the words. His jaw tightened as the man jerked his head toward a door. "If he's here he'll be in the back room. Do you need me to show you the way?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you." The man left her skin crawling in more ways than she thought possible. Stay away from him, keep a safe distance. Her instincts screamed at her, warning her of the dangers he offered. She didn't need to turn and look at him to see what sort of problems he would present if she stayed around him too long.

"Aren't you going to look me in the eyes, woman?" The man touched her on the left shoulder, his fingers tight for a moment, then it was gone. "No, of course you won't. You're afraid. Women like you are always afraid of me."

Helen stifled a growl. "Don't touch me."

He laughed, yet it carried no trace of real humor.

Helen's shoulders stiffened. She raised her chin and marched back through the bar toward the room the man had mentioned. Once she found Jay it would be over and done with. She could leave the bar, go home, have something to eat, then pass out for the night.

She reached the back of the bar and pulled open the door to the small room, blinking as she tried to peer through the smoke hazed air. Figures, men most likely, sat around one table, their voices low-pitched. What they were talking about, she couldn't hear, and trying to make out if any of the men were the one she worked for, was difficult at best.

"Jay?" She took another step into the room and looked around. "Are you in here?"

"Who you looking for?" one of the men called out. "No one's allowed back here without good reason."

Helen faltered, alright, she hadn't expected this. "Jay Trent, my boss, I need to drop something off with him. I was told he might be back here."

"Trent huh, well, he's not here." A chair scraped back across the floor. "Come here."

"Er, no, thank you. Think I'd better wait out in the main bar. Just in case." Helen took a nervous step backward. This was a bad idea. I should have waited elsewhere. Too late now, she'd walked into the bar and into the back room.

"No, I don't think so. You're going to sit that sweet little backside and wait." The man who had spoken to her in the bar blocked her exit. "Sit down. Now."

She looked back over her shoulder, the color and heat draining from her face. He was large enough that trying to wriggle past him was impossible, or at least, unlikely. "Please, this was a mistake, there's too much smoke in the air here. I can--can't breathe very well in here. Too much smoke."

"You'll get used to it. Sit down. Now. I'm not going to tell you again." He growled and closed one hand on her shoulder. "You're not going anywhere. Not if you're looking for Trent."

"You think this is his fuck toy?" The man who had stood asked. "She's pretty enough to be his flavor."

"Yeah, has to be, no one else would make there way in here, not after him. Has to be his woman. Gives us an advantage, doesn't it?" The man holding her shoulder smirked, his grip tight enough to leave her wincing. "He'll have no choice but to back down now, not unless he wants to see his precious little fuck toy sold off to the highest bidder."

"I'm not his woman. You've got the wrong person!" She tried to pull out of his grasp, but it didn't work. The grip was too tight. "Please, my name's Helen Carter. I work with him, nothing more." What had she gotten herself into, she wasn't Jay's lover. The thought of that man touching her left her feeling sick. Her stomach knotted and twisted as if a nest of snakes had taken up residence. "I've never even gone out for a coffee with him."

"Deny it all you want, but you know him, you're a pretty little thing and you're exactly Trent's type." The man tightened his grip on Helen's shoulder and forced her deeper into the room. "I bet you and he have had a real good thing going on."

"I'm not his type at all, he's nothing but a--a thug!"

Laughter filled the air. The sound vibrated through her. She whimpered and tried to pull back from them. Cold sweat coated her flesh. She didn't belong in here. The bar wasn't her type of place. The men left her feeling sick, and the way they looked at her left Helen ready to curl up in a ball on the floor.

"Think we've got ourselves a nice little prize." The man holding her forced her through the room to an empty chair. "Sit down. Unless you want to find out what it's like to be unable to sit?"

What other choice did she have with the strength of the grip on her shoulder? What had he meant anyway, about being unable to sit? She took a deep breath and tried to keep calm as she sat and folded her hands into her lap. They'd let her go soon, she had to believe that. This was a joke. No one was going to try and steal her, or hold her hostage, not in this day and age.

It wasn't possible. She wasn't Trent's woman. She'd never been that and never would. Even if they had a problem with Trent, grabbing her was not going to change anything. They had to realize that.

No, why would they? They're convinced I'm Trent's.

Helen paled and twisted her hands in her lap, licking her lips nervously. "I--I'm not his woman. You can check that for yourself. I work in the same office, he's in charge. I'm not his girlfriend, you have to believe me. I wouldn't go out with him if he was the last man on the planet."

"And why would we? If you're anything like Trent, then lying is second nature to you." The nameless man who had blocked her exit all but laughed in her face. "Still, you're not his normal type. They dress a little more revealing. Playing a role are you?"

A role? What the...

"Silent, are we now? Or are you just trying to think of something to tell me?"

"I'm not a liar. I work with the damn man, nothing more. Look, I came here to hand off some papers to him, ones he needs, then I intend to get home to my own bed. Call him and ask him yourself. I'm sure you have a way to contact him if you've had some dealings with him."

"And if you work for him you know how to contact him as well." He smiled, though it never touched his eyes. "But you're not here about work, even with the files you're carrying. You're his woman. It's the only thing that makes sense. Otherwise you'd have called him and dropped the files off someplace else."

"I don't have his cell phone number, only the office number. I work with him, not date the bastard."

"Right, and we're going to buy that one, where's your cell phone, bitch?"

"What? Why?" Panic clawed at her throat.

"Where is it?" the nameless man growled, his fingers digging into her shoulder.

Helen winced. "My bag, it's in the front pocket."

The man didn't wait, he delved into her bag to grab the phone, then flipped it open. He didn't speak as he flicked through the numbers, searching, then he frowned. "No number."

"See, I told you. Nothing." She frowned, shaking her head. "Believe me, I'm not his damn girlfriend. I just work with him. I'd not date him if he was the last man on the planet."

"Vince, what if she's telling the truth? What if she's not involved with him?"

"She's seen too much."

"I haven't seen anything. I don't know what's going on here. I've got to get back home." She all but stammered, her hands sweaty, body shaking. "I won't say a word about this. No one would believe me anyway. I mean, you're just a group of men playing cards, or something, right." She felt sick. If she didn't keep a tight grasp on her body she'd end up throwing up right in the middle of the room. "Look, you can let me go, I won't cause any problems."

"Shut up."

She clamped her lips together and tried to focus on her breathing. She didn't need to be sick on top of everything else that was happening. They wouldn't hurt her, she'd be gone shortly, back home, in a good bath, then she'd be fine. This would all be forgotten. She could just get back on with her life.

"What do we do with her?" one of the other men called out.

"She's lying, of course, she knows him. She wouldn't be here if she didn't. Shit, she even admitted she knew him. Like we're going to fall for that crap about just working with him?" The man with the phone shrugged. "We sell her off, even if she's not his girl we'll still make a bit out of her. Can't let her leave now. She knows too much. She'll bring the cops down on us."

About what, what is it I'm supposed to know, that they're meeting in a back room?

Whatever it was, she already knew that trying to persuade the men was a lost cause. They'd believe only what they wanted to and nothing more. She had one hope they'd realize doing anything to her would bring trouble and they'd let her go.

It was a slim chance. Whatever they planned on doing with her, it wasn't a case of simply letting her go. Whatever she'd gotten herself into this time, it wasn't going to be pleasant, or easy.

Should have let the damn files wait until tomorrow. Not as if he'd have seen to the work immediately. It wouldn't have gotten done and I would still have been blamed.

Too late to change things now, she was trapped with no way out. Or, at least, none she could see. She could only hope they would let her go soon. They had to realize she wasn't part of this, whatever it was. "What are you going to do with me?" Her voice shook, her lips were dry as she tried to focus on speaking.

"Sell you, of course." The man smiled, though it never touched his eyes. "You'll fetch a decent price--once you're trained. It wouldn't do to sell one who isn't trained."

"You're kidding, right? Sell me? Are you insane? No one buys and sells people anymore. That died out a century ago ... right?" She had to believe it was a bad joke. He was going to let her go. This was just how real life worked.

It didn't help that her body tightened at the thought of being--what? A slave? No, that was just wrong. She wasn't interested in those sorts of games--and they were just games, nothing more. No real slaves, just kinky sex games some people played ... power exchange or something like that.

Except this didn't feel like a game. No one had asked her if she wanted to play and the way they stripped her with their stares left her shaking like a leaf. Her hands clenched, and sweat beaded across her back. Her breath caught in the back of her throat.

She was the wrong woman for them. She wasn't even supposed to be here. Not right now. It was just a job.

"Naïve little idiot. The slave trade is alive and well. There are many men and women who would pay good money for one like you. Once you've been trained by your new owner, you'll understand just what goes on in the world--what can happen to sluts like you who walk into the wrong bar. It will take a little work, but there's an easy market out there, and you're a pretty little slut."

The wrong bar, is that what it boiled down to? She'd walked into the wrong bar and now this. It had to be more than that. Trent was in the mix as well. That man was a problem. She'd not been aware of how dangerous being around him would be, until now.

"You planning on keeping her here until later, Vince?"

"No, need to get her out of here quickly. Just in case she has someone looking for her. Once I've got her to a safe place I can look her over and check out what sort of meat I've got to work with." Vince spoke calmly. "Check the back door, make sure it's clear, then I'll get her out of here."

"Hey, what about shares? How do we know you'll evenly break up the money?"

"Either trust me, or don't, I don't care either way. I'm getting her out of here before this whole thing blows up in our faces. I'm the one taking the fucking risk. The rest of you get what I think you've earned. Nothing more." Vince pulled Helen out of the chair, his grip tight, unyielding, giving her no chance to escape his grasp. "Unless you want to fight me for her?" He paused a moment and looked around. "No, I didn't think so."

Not one of the men protested further.

"Please, you don't have to do this," she whimpered as he dragged her out of the room. She couldn't let him do this to her. "I have a life, a home, people who will..."

"Yes, I do have to do this. Now, cease your whining. One more word out of you and I'll gag you. Got it? I'm not in the mood to play games."

Helen nodded, not trusting herself to speak, especially after that threat. She'd need her mouth clear of gags if she was going to call for help at some point--if she had a chance to call out.

If there was no one around then she'd pay for it. That part she had no doubt of.

Vince pulled her through the back of the bar and out into the parking lot behind it. Pale yellow lights flickered from the top of the street lamps, offering small pools of illumination. What they didn't show was a chance of help, or a way out. No movement beckoned through the lights. No sounds beyond their own steps across the lot and the distant rumble of traffic.

The skin on the back of her neck itched and her stomach knotted. She didn't belong with this man, yet she had no other choice but to follow him through the lot to the large car he walked toward. When they reached it he didn't open the door for her, instead he dragged her toward the trunk and unlocked it.

"Get in."

"What?" He couldn't be serious about this. Get in the trunk?

"I warned you to be silent, whore!" He growled into her face, his grip so tight she was sure it would leave bruises. His hand lifted into the air and snapped down across her face before she had a chance to even attempt to defend herself. Her vision blurred, pain lanced across her cheek and mouth. She could taste blood on her lips, yet it didn't matter to the man who held her. Why would it when he saw her as little more than a route to a fast dollar, or a way of striking back at Trent, or both?

"Get in, now!"

This time she didn't argue with him. Shaking, blood marring her lips, Helen clambered into the open trunk. She swallowed hard and tried not to taste the blood. It didn't work. The smell of gasoline filled the trunk. She gagged on the odor, but didn't complain, not even when she curled up in the trunk and watched as he closed it.

There it was, the click. He'd locked it from the outside.

Trapped.

Where was he going to take her? Somewhere to sell her off, from what he'd already said. But where? Did those sorts of things take place in warehouses, or good homes? Were they done on the net? By phone? Public auction? God, she had no idea and wasn't looking forward to finding out ... not when she was the one about to be sold off.

She wasn't a piece of meat to be sold like that.

Meat, god, he'd called her that hadn't he? Her stomach churned. How could he do that to her? It didn't make sense and it sure as hell wasn't right.

Yeah, well try telling him that!

It wasn't as if she'd tried to break free of him. She didn't kick, or scream for help. She hadn't tried to fight ... not one good tug. Even behaving had led to being slapped hard enough to bleed. As the reality of it all sank in, and she lay curled in the bottom of a trunk, Helen went over all the things she could have done. Should have done, yet hadn't.

Why hadn't she?

I wasn't thinking straight, of course, that's the only answer.

There was something about him, about the way he made her feel. Her heart skipped a beat as she thought about him. He wasn't a good man, yet her inner walls clenched when she focused on what little she knew about him.

He was important to her life and she didn't even know why.

It didn't make sense, but this entire situation didn't make sense either.

She frowned and listened, hearing Vince get into the car and start the engine. By the time the car moved across the lot her stomach had knotted a dozen times over. She was trapped inside a locked trunk, not even a cell phone to hand and nothing she could do except wait to find out where he was taking her.

Helen could only hope it was enough.