Encounter with an older man
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Encounter With DestinyChapter 8 free porn video
The supervisor cursed and muttered under his breath as he made his way back to the surgery. This damned doctor was always interfering, poking his nose around and getting in the way - who the hell did he think he was? After all, his past was just as tainted as the rest of them. He'd heard the stories, oh yes - of how the 'good doctor' conducted his intimate examinations at his exclusive gynecological clinic in Harley Street and of the internal 'cosmetic surgery' he performed to tighten and enhance his patients' sexual capacities. Then there was that scandal when an Arab princess nearly died from blood loss in her father's vain quest to restore her virginity so he could arrange a good marriage for his 'perfectly chaste daughter'. No way could he take the moral high ground, no bleedin' way! He smirked with self-satisfaction as he opened the surgery door without bothering to knock...
... And felt the color rapidly draining from his face as his eyes met those of master Stephen! "Uhh, wha ... but you flew back to Brussels this morning, uhh sir..." The barely controlled fury evident in the master's face made him quit talking before he dug an even deeper hole for himself.
Stephen played back the recording of the guard's mobile phone call for the dumbstruck man's benefit. "That guard will not be leaving the crematorium," he muttered in such a matter-of fact way that even the hardened supervisor felt a chill running through his spine. "And YOU will be joining him unless you help us put a stop to this NOW." He raised his hand to silence the man's protests.
"Your staff have turned this place into a slaughterhouse - look at the tally of dead slaves for the past month alone!"
"But sir, the Albanian brothers' appetites are huge and..."
"And their insatiable demands only accounts for EIGHT of the nineteen. Two even died in training - one choked unattended on a deep gag in her cage, which is inexcusable in itself and the other just ... died. 'Just died' is not good enough!" He turned to the doctor. "Did you get the results of the autopsy yet?"
The doctor nodded grimly. "Shock-induced myocardial infarction aggravated by lethal doses of sensory and consciousness-enhancing drugs, Stephen. Someone had been vivisecting her and had excised her tongue, breasts, and sexual organs.
Judging by the cracked teeth, the skin and blood under her fingernails and the fact that her palms had the flesh torn down to the bone, the pathologist thinks she was deliberately kept conscious until the end."
Stephen looked down at the photo of a very pretty blonde, smiling and saluting proudly in her girl-scout uniform. He turned back to the supervisor and stared at him until the man had to look away. "She was supposed to be a special gift for the Oyabun to help persuade him to meet with Mikhailov face to face and hopefully agree a fixed price for unrefined cocaine with the Shining Path guerillas, you damn fool! Do have ANY idea how delicate negotiations between the Yamaguchi-gumi and the Solsnetskaya are right now? The Oyabun's taste for blonde western girls of her age and type is renowned." He began to tear the photo into small pieces. "Such a waste, such a goddam WASTE!" The other men kept silent while Stephen took a pen and dropped it on a blank piece of paper on the doctor's desk. "I want names - write me a list of the guards that have turned rogue on us ... if you don't want to be at the top. And you can forget about the Albanians. There's been a change of management and the brothers have been given an 'early retirement package' by their younger cousin who has a less demanding appetite - you won't need to cater for their vile tastes again."
Once the supervisor had left, Stephen picked up the sheet of paper and passed it to the doctor to scrutinize the list of names. "Duncan, I will add him as well - Charles phoned me this morning. He'll be taking charge in London from tonight until Sir John recovers from the bypass operation and he's bringing in his own handpicked team of guards and supervisors. Unless you can personally vouch for any of them, Charles will see that ALL the renegade staff stationed here are relocated ... or offer their resignations." Stephen looked at his old friend who frowned then slowly shook his head.
The doctor knew full well that no one ever resigned from the Organization's service ... and the only way to leave for slave, guard or master was very final.
"Young Alexa is going to be fine - a little sore down below but nothing lasting or needing treatment. But what about this 'Marek', Stephen - surely he'll just carry on the torment for little Alexa." He had a sudden, uncomfortable thought.
"You aren't using her to weed out even more rogue guards in Belgium, are you?"
"No, all the staff at the Ardennes Chateau are completely trustworthy as befits the cradle of our Organization. As for Marek," he smiled, "there will be no trouble - in fact I have asked him to assist me in training her to perfection."
"But Stephen, how can you be sure he won't mistreat her behind your back?"
"Because he is my son."
"Your SON?" The doctor began to grin then softly chuckled. "So that is why he warned you - I thought you only had two daughters, Stephen."
"So did I Duncan, so did I ... but I left a small part of myself with a pretty little Serbian translator when I was stationed in Belgrade and Marek was the result. We never knew each other until his mother sought me out when Marek was indicted for war crimes in Croatia - my son had distinguished himself as a junior intelligence officer by his highly effective interrogation skills where female prisoners were concerned." He paused, reflecting on his own work as a 'specialist liaison advisor' for the CIA in Vietnam then smiled at his friend.
"You know it is almost as though history is repeating itself, Duncan. Anyway, unfortunately for Marek - but fortunately for me - he was betrayed by his senior officer to the UN investigators to save his own miserable skin. Marek was on his way to a war crimes trial in The Hague when we arranged for him to be taken ill with a burst appendix and die of complications in a military hospital. He's been based at the Chateau working for me since that time - in fact he's picking me up from Zaventem this afternoon. One day, I hope my son will make a fine Master - perhaps it is in the genes, do you think?"
Fire! FIRE! Alexa tried to cry out in terror but her voice wouldn't work! She was burning, dancing and writhing in a column of fire, unable to free herself from the chains that bound her to the stake as she was consumed from outside and from within, roasted inside and raped by a searing jet of flame...
But as she fought to wake up from the vivid, horrible nightmare, Alexa couldn't make any sense of her surroundings outside of the dream either. She grasped a handful of fur (FUR?) and rolled over, listening to soft crackling noises and a faint tinkling sound whenever she moved her left leg. She felt very thirsty and her throat was so sore. Her belly hurt as though her period pains had been increased a thousand-fold. Then she recalled that the doctor had said she would never menstruate again and had been sterilized. It grieved her to even think about it - a part of her felt as though she wasn't a proper woman any more and had been reduced to some kind of erotic pet. And then she remembered HIM.
Alexa felt an irrational thrill of excitement at the very idea of being owned by the American. Master Stephen - where was he? And, more importantly, where was SHE?
She opened her eyes properly and glanced in amazement around a large, beautiful room. The high ceiling was ornately plastered, and the walls were paneled with filled bookshelves made from light wood. Alexa found she was lying on a large, white fur rug on the polished wooden floor at the foot of a huge bed. She was naked and unfettered except for a single steel cuff around her ankle. A chrome chain snaked across the floor to a ring at the side of the large stone fireplace. Behind the fireguard, logs hissed and sparked in the flames. There were two metal dishes on the floor near the rug - one contained water and the other was partly filled with small biscuits. Alexa was very thirsty and groggily clambered up to drink. As she reached to pick up the dish she paused then slowly pulled back her hand. She looked furtively around the room to see if there were any cameras pointing at her. Although she couldn't see anything like a lens, she decided to act as though she was being monitored. After all, it was actually secretly thrilling to think that she was being kept under observation. So she crouched down and began to lap the water. It wasn't easy - she seemed to get very little into her mouth and her face was getting wet but the water tasted good. She looked at the tiny biscuits but chose not to taste them yet. Although she still felt weak, Alexa managed to stand and wandered in a daze around the spacious room as far as her tether chain would allow. The books along the shelves intrigued her but she only looked at the spines without daring to touch any - lots were about warfare and military history, while others were concerned with anatomy and psychology. A few of the other books had titles in French by somebody called 'De Sade'. There was also a bound collection of reports and papers from UNICEF and something else called CARE. If this was master Stephen's room, he was obviously a very clever and well-read man. So why was he bothering with an ignorant girl like her? Alexa put the troubled question to one side in her mind and tentatively peeped behind some thick, gray velvet curtains only to gasp as she looked out of the narrow, arched window frame across a vast ornamental garden. Although it was getting dark, she could make out the regimented shapes of manicured lawns and hedges that seemed to march into the distant mist. It was an absolutely quiet and peaceful scene.
The room was warm and had a masculine sort of smell - a faint mixture of spice, wood smoke, leather, and wax polish. There were three doors leading from the bedroom - the largest, probably the main door, was out of reach because of the chain to her ankle. The second door was locked but the third door opened as she pushed it to reveal a very fancy bathroom. She went back to the fireside and spotted a neat pile of things on a chair in a corner near the fur rug. There was a large towel, a toothbrush and paste, a hairbrush, and a small bottle of shampoo, and underneath them all was a thick, woolen blanket.
Alexa picked up the bundle except for the blanket and discovered a small slip of paper with tiny handwriting on it saying 'Pour une nouvelle esclave, bon chance ma sour!' It brought a smile to her face to think she was being greeted by another girl like herself. Alexa picked up the sliver of paper and tucked it under the blanket for safekeeping then padded back through to the bathroom. She could only just get in the shower with the tether chain to her ankle stretched taut. It took her several minutes to work out the complicated controls - the first button she pressed made all the jets come on at full force, making her shriek as the icy cold sprays assaulted her from above, all sides and even upwards from BENEATH her body. She frantically pressed different buttons at random until the jets finally became a gentle cascade of warm droplets.
Luckily, the bathroom was completely tiled and the worst of the flood had already drained away through the grate in the center of the floor. After thoroughly washing her hair and body, Alexa carefully cleaned her teeth and brushed her hair in front of the full-length mirror. She stared at her reflection and watched the smile growing on her face until she finally laughed out loud. Why was she so happy? Surely she should have been in terror or despair but she felt very elated, slightly scared and strangely relieved. Alexa had no idea where she really was - perhaps she really had arrived at the chateau somewhere in Belgium that master Stephen had mentioned, but as she had never left England in her life before it didn't mean much except that she felt at home here. AT HOME - was this finally somewhere she could call HOME?!
There was nothing much to do once she was clean except sit on the rug and watch the flames play in the hearth. But her eyes were repeatedly drawn to a large painting above the mantelpiece. A startlingly beautiful Afro-Arabic girl was kneeling unclothed and in fetters with her thighs wide apart. She had an expression of radiant joy on her face. Alexa peered in awe at the girl's body.
The girl had rings through her nipples and her clitoris just like her own but she also had a circular mark or pattern similar to Cally's drawn just above the cleft of her vulva. And she had a close-fitting golden and enameled collar around her neck. Ohh how she admired and envied the girl in the picture - the beautifully worked and inlaid metal band that was snugly secured about her throat was so pretty and symbolic of the creatures total submission and love for whoever was her master. If only she could one day be like that girl.
Alexa was so absorbed as she strained to see the mark and collar close up that she didn't hear the soft click of the door closing on the opposite side of the room. "She would have liked you, I think. In fact I am certain my Lyssa would have been your friend, little slave."
HIS voice - HE'S HERE! Alexa whirled around, cried out in relief and delight and began to run towards her master. She paused, not sure how she should greet him. Remembering the posture of the girl in the photo, she sank to her knees with parted thighs like the girl and kept her back straight. Without knowing what to do, she automatically put her arms behind her back, crossed her wrists and ankles as though they were bound then lowered her head. She didn't dare speak and felt tears swimming in her eyes.
"Good girl - I see somebody in London has already taught you how to kneel." She nearly replied that nobody had told her what to do but changed her mind. It didn't really matter anyway as long as HE was pleased. He was holding out his hand and she could see the master's ring just like the doctor's on his finger.
"Aren't you going to greet your master, little slave?" He waited while she gently held his hand in both of hers, closed her eyes and kissed his ring as though it was the most precious thing in the world. "Beautifully done, Alexa - most pleasing." He ruffled his new property's hair and wandered over to look at the picture over the fireplace. "Funny, I thought my Lyssa would be the last and I would not take another personal slave after she died. Instead, I found you, my little Alexa."
"She looks umm I mean she was very beautiful, Master - not at all like m-m..."
It was too late - he had heard her mistake and was staring right into her eyes with a mixture of astonishment and disappointment. Knowing too well that she had just offended him by openly doubting her own value yet again, she burst into tears and sank to the floor. So short a time together and she had already failed him so soon!
He came across and grasped a handful of her hair forcing her head up to look at him. He studied the expression of abject, tear-streaked misery on her face for a long time. Alexa's extreme reaction to her foolish error was driven by something other than self-pity or fear. She was crying too heavily and had made no effort to shrink back from him. No, this was a much deeper response and far exceeded the incident's relatively minor value ... interesting. "You know you need to be punished, slave," he spoke gently but that seemed to increase her distress. "You were warned before about criticizing your own value and thereby questioning my judgment about your worth as my property. Yet you are just learning to serve me, and once a punishment is administered, it is over and done with as far as I am concerned - understand?" She nodded but still seemed over-wrought. He had to fight against a desire to soothe this girl, to reassure her that she would be fine, and even to let her go unpunished on this occasion.
No, that would be completely wrong - she needed to learn from the outset that his word was final and his rules, while firm, were fair. Stephen believed strongly that submissive females needed consistent handling or their reactions would be confused by trying to second-guess where they really stood and then they would not give of their best. "Come along, slave - best get this done now rather than make you wait. Now run along to the bathroom before we begin."
She avoided her reflection in the bathroom mirror, knowing that she would feel worse at the sight. Alexa was shaking so much that her teeth chattered. Her master waited in the doorway until she finished then he unlocked her ankle from the cuff. Alexa meekly followed when the man who was about to punish her took her by the wrist and led her to the locked door. Her first reaction to the sight of the attached room was fear. It was windowless, brightly lit and had gray padded walls. There were strange devices made of wood, leather and metal around the room, and a variety of straps, whips and canes hung from a rail.
Suspended from the center of the ceiling, a metal bar with leather cuffs dangled from a heavy chain. Her master seemed to be sizing her up for a moment. "We're going to have to get that winch chain lengthened for the future, little slave - I don't believe you can reach up to that suspension pole, can you?" She shook her head, too afraid to speak. "Okay, we'll have to manage another way for now.
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