Six Masters Island - De Lucia's Slaves Read online

  The sleeping passengers were stripped, with pleased murmurs or oaths to get certain aspects in shape. Foam balls were jammed into mouths and Velcro straps secured them at the back of heads after pins, bands and other hair accessories were removed. Jewelry was unhooked and all of the girls’ personal affects were dropped into the plastic bag with the soda cans and their clothes.

  Padded cuffs with thick inlaid metal rings were strapped around ankles and wrists, and wider matching collars were secured around throats. All the accoutrements required keys to unlock, keys that the siblings kept in their pockets until they got home and placed them in the cabinet. The cuffs were latched together at the ankles and secured to the bottom of the seat in front of them, and their hands were locked behind their backs. The ring at the back of the collar was attached to a hook in the headrest, and seatbelts were snapped into place.

  It took less than five minutes to get everything secured, and Sienna took one last look at Andrea. “I’ll take the first leg, Brian,” Sienna offered, and she turned towards the cockpit and climbed into the pilot’s chair. All four of them could fly the jet and they drew lots to decide the order. Dawson and Richard had the approach, and Sienna and Brian were left with the trip home. Towards the last hour of the flight, the women began to rouse from their drug-induced sleep.

  CHAPTER I

  Fallon felt woozy, and she opened her eyes in alarm, embarrassed that she must have actually fallen asleep while filling out the application. It only took another minute for her head to clear enough for her to realize much more time had passed.

  There was an uncomfortable, soggy sponge in her mouth, pressing down on her tongue and impossible to dislodge. Bands cut into her cheeks, and she realized it was belted around her head. She whimpered, and the sound was barely audible through the gag. She felt her eyes filling with frightened tears and she tried to turn her head to find her friends, but something was grabbing the back of her neck and she felt a wide collar circling her throat when she tried to pull forward.

  The drool from the sponge dribbled down her chin and was coating her chest. She screamed while her senses continued to clear and the cool air from the vent above her breezed across the moisture. Fallon realized that she was naked, and her struggles became frantic as her fingers tried to reach up to whatever was securing her wrists behind her back. Even her ankles seemed to be locked together, and they were hooked to the bottom of the seat in front of her.

  Fallon heard muffled cries and shifted her eyes sideways to see Courtney, naked and bound and wailing, across the aisle, with her long blonde hair tangled in the strap of the gag. In front of Courtney sat Andrea, furiously straining at the seatbelt and shrieking through the sponge. Fallon assumed Megan was in the seat in front of her own, rocking the back of the chair with the force of her angry movements.

  Fallon was crying, and trying to understand what was happening. The last thing she remembered was filling out the clipboard, and getting very tired. The soda… there must have been something in the soda. She turned her eyes to the other side and saw blue sky and clouds, and heard the sound of the jet. It finally sank in.

  Dawson, Richard and Sienna sat towards the back of the jet after Brian had taken the spot in the pilot‘s chair two hours previously. They read the answers on the sheets the girls had so carefully filled out, and seemed pleased with their choice of young woman. They would have exclusive right to her training for three months, before the girls were traded for three month stints with each of the siblings. They were assured a well-rounded education into their new lives, as each of the sadists had particular tastes that aroused them.

  At the end of one year, they would be flown to the auction in Portugal and sold to the highest bidder. The De Lucia siblings were known to produce the highest quality slaves because of their unique training situation, though their family had been highly regarded in the trade for centuries. Their product always commanded top dollar, and was coveted by the wealthiest clients. To have a De Lucia slave was an envied symbol of status in their unique society.

  The family considered the slave trade a lucrative bonus, hidden behind the backdrop of the world-renowned computer enterprise they ran as their public face. If any of their commercial clients found it unusual that the foursome shared their family’s massive estate, the whispers and rumors were squelched quickly. No one messed with the De Lucias, if they wanted to continue access and technical support for the best security and networking available for their companies or private use.

  Naturally, the family had blended the enterprises together… at least from the aspect of acquiring new toys for their sideline. Brian screened prospects, Richard handled any online information they could gather about their targets, Sienna planned and designed the promotion to be offered, and Dawson tied it all together. There had never been a trace discovered of the original ad or surveys the young women had filled out.

  Sienna rose and walked to the front of the jet and knelt in front of Andrea. Fallon shifted her eyes sideways and watched the woman who had appeared so intimidating with her sophistication and had drawn them into the promising opportunity. She pointed a red tipped nail and traced it down Andrea’s angry tears, while her gray eyes studied the frightened girl with such intensity; it was as if she was dissecting her psyche. Words rolled off her tongue, the accent now seductively low and dangerous. “You’re a fighter, aren’t you? I’m looking forward to working with you, Andrea. I am your Mistress, Sienna, and from this moment on, I control everything you say, think and feel.”

  Andrea made the minimal movement of shaking her head that the hooked collar would allow, shrieking muffled curses. “You don’t think so?” Sienna asked calmly. She allowed the finger to slowly travel down Andrea’s neck, over her thrusting breast and flicking the tightened, chilled nipple. Further down the finger trailed, with only Megan and Fallon able to watch. Courtney merely whined at hearing Sienna’s words, because she could not see what the woman was doing to the friend seated in front of her, but it petrified her nonetheless.

  The finger went lower, sifting through dark coppery curls of a full bush. “We’ll need to groom this up a bit, Andrea. I don’t think I’ll remove all of it, because I want them to know you’re a natural redhead.”

  Megan thought nervously about her bleached hair that covered the mousy brown true color. She watched in horror as the woman… the sophisticated receptionist… humiliated her friend.

  Andrea tried to jam her legs together, but with her ankles latched together and short-chained to the heavy metal base of the seat in front of her, movement was distressingly slight. Sienna’s strong arms pushed Andrea’s knees apart in a steady press, and then the woman moved her torso between them, holding her spread open.

  Fallon caught movement with her peripheral vision, and her eyes widened when two men passed between her and Courtney to stand behind Sienna and watch. Andrea was shrieking at being openly displayed for the group.

  Courtney continued her piteous wailing, and the man on the left, winked at her. The small blonde began squirming and fighting the restraints in panic, practically hyperventilating in fear.

  Fallon looked at the other man, her tearful green eyes begging for help. The man stared at her with no expression other than eyes that seemed to widen and narrow in an excited pulse. The three people had the same intense gray eyes and dark hair, with the man staring at her having silver stripes at the temples. It was almost as black as Fallon’s inherited shade from a grandmother who was Sioux Indian. The man ignored Fallon’s silent plea, and he returned to watching the woman.

  Sienna wiggled her finger through the course curls, and swiped down the slightly moist slit between the puffy flesh. “Better than that, Andrea. I like my sluts nice and wet… all the time.”

  Andrea’s anger finally turned to panicked fear, as she looked up at the men staring at her lewd display. She whined and tried to buck as the determined finger stroked. “There’s a little more, but I think you can to better.” Andrea screamed in frustratio
n when the woman stroked the nerves at the top of her slit, quickly wiggling her clit while she tried to move her hips. They were held fast by Sienna’s pressing body between her knees, and by the seatbelt.

  “We’ll remove that nasty little birth control ring when you are prepared, but obviously you must enjoy a good fuck,” Sienna teased. Andrea pictured the question on the application, and she moaned. The finger persistently demanded attention as the sharp tip of the expertly manicured nail vibrated her clit. Two other fingers stroked below it, teasing the entrance to a core that was now beginning to pulse and leak juices.

  As terrifyingly unbelievable as the humiliating scene was, Andrea recognized the beginning spasms of an orgasm, and she wailed in dissatisfaction. Fallon was crying at her friend’s distress, and her eyes flashed occasionally to the silver tipped man and she wondered if those piercing eyes would be staring at her spread pussy soon.

  Andrea knew she was going to lose it, and she felt a flush spread across her upper chest to blend with the furious reddened embarrassment already coloring her cheeks. The wails from behind the gag were agonized, and Fallon wished she could cover her ears.

  Andrea squeezed her eyes closed as she felt a beginning crest of passion, and at the top of the wave while she groaned and inhaled loud sucking breaths through her nose, the woman pinched her clit tightly between two red tipped nails and Andrea screamed while she strained to buck into the hand. The woman swiped two fingers through the cream and smiled. “Much, much better.” The woman stood and looked at the men with a satisfied smile. “I think we have the makings of a pain slut here.”

  Andrea shook in hushed sobs while the two men followed the woman to the back of the plane. Their terrified passengers sobbed and continued to stress their bindings while they listened to landing gear lowered, and the jet began its descent.

  The tires bounced off the runway, causing the young women to scream again while they frantically tried to look through their windows, only to see the slight expanse of open field for the landing strip and some mountains in the distance. Even when the jet stopped, there was nothing of significance out the windows.

  The pilot walked back to them, and Fallon noticed he looked like the other three abductors, with the same dark hair and gray eyes. He stared at Andrea’s dazed expression and knew that Sienna had set the pace. The small monitor hooked up to the camera in the cabin assured that none of the siblings missed the first show. He smiled down at the redhead and rubbed his hands together briskly. In the same lilting accent of the woman, he said, “You’re all hired.” He smiled and fixed a frighteningly aroused gaze at Megan. “Everyone set to begin training for your new jobs?”

  Sienna approached the front of the plane and stood beside Brian, turning to face the frightened women. “I am pleased to inform you that you have all been hired by our firm. To ensure proper training and preparation for your new duties, we institute a rigorous and thorough one-year program before you are presented for a permanent position. Now, Andrea, obviously I will be working with you for the first three months. Courtney, Richard will be guiding you.” Courtney continued to whine and wail. “Megan, Brian will be teaching you the skills you will need, and Fallon, Dawson will be the instructor preparing you for your future position.”

  “Our estate houses the complete training facility, and you will notice our other employees are more than adept at helping you along, should you stray. We are persistent with our lessons and will repeat them over and over until you succeed. Naturally, we understand after such a long flight, you would like time to get settled and adjusted to your new lodgings.”

  Fallon felt a slight buzz on her neck from the collar and then a jolt went through her, causing her hips to strain off the seat and her bottom to clench. She shrieked in agony, mirroring the sounds from her friends who had all received the same shock.

  “Oh yes, one more thing. There is a small corrective disk in your collar controlled by remotes that my brothers and I carry to encourage you with your studies. I understand they can be quite annoying,” she chuckled.

  The man with the silver tipped hair knelt down on one knee in front of Fallon and she sobbed behind the sponge and trembled. He had the same sensuous roll accenting his words, though deeper in pitch, and Fallon found it more frightening than seductive. “I am Master Dawson, Fallon. You are going to follow me quietly into the house.” He held up a small black box with a silver button. “Do you understand?”

  Fallon made the connection pretty damn quick, as residual shudders were still causing her to quiver, and she reluctantly nodded. He released her ankle cuffs and then reached behind her head, and she felt the back of her collar freed. A strong hand wrapped around her upper arm as he pulled her to a trembling stand.

  When everyone was released, Sienna led the way down the short ladder onto the tarmac. Two men were pulling up in a tram with shuttle cars attached to it. “Successful trip, I see,” commented the man exiting the passenger side.

  “Yes,” Dawson replied. “After you get the jet cleaned out, check seat 3B. I think Courtney had a little accident.”

  “Yes, Mr. De Lucia.” He turned to the driver. “Bring the fabric cleaner back with you, would you Paul?” The driver nodded and turned to watch the passengers climb into the trailing cars.

  Fallon sat next to Dawson with her back to the driver and facing Sienna and Andrea. The girls silently communicated their terror through their tear-streaked faces. It was obvious the men at the airstrip were not going to help them. The carts took off with a silent, electric jerk and sped across the tarmac towards a tunnel carved into the base of a mountain. The tram fitted through the entrance with about two feet on either side, and Fallon stared wide-eyed at the rock walls lit by a string of utility lights as they sped deeper into the cave. It opened up into a large warehouse type room, filled with boxes of computer equipment along the walls.

  The driver dashed to a cabinet for a can of spray, and just as the last couple climbed out of the cart, he made a wide turn and zipped back down the tunnel. “Dawson, Jansen’s system is still here. I thought we shipped it out before we left,” Richard said.

  “He tried to jack me around on the price at the last minute, figuring we already built it and could not re-sell it. I told him to shop somewhere else. Naturally, he called back within an hour when he realized no one had anything close, and I upped the price two hundred thousand. He’s probably had enough time to stop swearing, and I expect I’ll have a message waiting for me to go ahead and ship,” Dawson smiled. The De Lucia’s were ruthless in business, and would take the loss rather than be manipulated.

  In the back of her mind Fallon digested the conversation and tried to convince herself that this was some kind of horrible initiation in following orders, to eventually help with some sort of computer sales. It made no sense, but it was easier to accept than what was actually happening to her.

  She flinched as a leash was hooked to the front of her collar, and turned to see Andrea drop to the ground moaning while Sienna held one of her lovely painted nails on the silver button of her remote. She reached down and grabbed the red curls of the quivering woman and lifted her head. “You try to kick me again, slut, and I will make things most unpleasant.” Sienna snapped on the leash and pulled until Andrea managed to get her legs under her.

  Courtney had a puddle forming on the ground as her bladder let go again. “You’ve got a leaker there, Richard,” Brian noted.

  “Easily enough taken care of,” Richard dismissed.

  Fallon felt the weight of her own bladder uncomfortably demanding attention, and she forced herself to ignore it as the leash tightened and pulled her towards a heavy metal door. Dawson pressed his thumb on a pad, and the elevator opened. All eight people entered, and Brian used his thumb to unlock the biotech secured panel with the floor designations. The captured women stared nervously at the unfamiliar security feature, too frightened to offer too much protest and risk experiencing the piercing jolt of the collar that caused shards of pain to
course through her body.

  The elevator rose rapidly to the top floor, and the doors opened to a landing with four hallways leading off of it and an open balcony that looked out over a vast range of mountains. Fallon had absolutely no idea where she was. The men and Sienna dismissed each other until dinner, and they began to lead their women down the halls.

  Courtney’s feet froze in terror at being separated from her friends, and Richard hit her switch. She shrieked as she dropped, and he stood over her. “Crawl if you have to, but you will follow.” He pressed the button again, and she jerked on the carpet and wailed. She forced herself to her knees and sobbed when the big man lifted her by her collar. “Again?” She shook her head miserably and tried to follow on stiff legs.

  Dawson opened a door on an expansive suite divided into separate areas of enjoyment. One corner contained an extensive array of computers, with richly appointed office furnishings. There was a formal seating arrangement for guests, separating the workspace from an area of devices that had Fallon screaming. Everything promised pain and horrible confining restraint.

  To the right was a huge bedroom with a lavish bathroom leading off it. One side of the bathroom was done in the finest black marble, reflecting mirrored shines from the chrome fixtures. The other side of the bath was stark gray concrete, with hoses, a table, restraint devices and a hole in the floor for a drain. He pulled on a chain that lowered from the ceiling and hooked her wrist cuffs to it, lifting them off her back.

  “Spread your legs,” he ordered calmly. Fallon saw him reach for the silver button and she moved her legs apart. He placed a container on a small moving metal shelf set on a pedestal between her thighs, so the brim of the cup touched her pussy. A button on the wall raised her to the balls of her feet, causing her to bend over forwards with her hair almost touching the floor and her eyes focused on the pedestal between her legs. In the upside down position, she watched him push a button, and a red laser of a beam shown through a small lens in the wall. He turned a dial until it focused on the metal shelf balancing the container, and another laser was trained on the lever for the chains lifting her arms over her back.