Lacey, as the girls in school called her, felt the eyes of the portly man Kincaid all over her as she finished applying olive oil and churned kelp skin cream to her torso, legs, bottom and arms. The place in which she found herself, called the spa, and the walk to it from her room indicated that the building must be a rather large mansion. Southwestern colors and adobe set the standard for the design in the hallway, the room she had been in and a stairwell she noticed on the way to the spa. The extremely large bathroom area with a whirlpool jacuzzi, a steam bath, a hot bath, elongated mirrors and counters exhibited stylistic interior decorating based on Hindu art from the vast Asian subcontinent.
In finality Ivana used a powder puff to apply a small amount of gold and talcum powder as Kincaid instructed. That man had changed from the toga he wore for some hidden reason to normal business attire. From the way he looked at her she began to doubt her presuppositions about his sexual abnormality. After the second quick set of pats with the pad he took it away from her. Her hair sat damp in a huge curled braid on top of her head, and a corner of her mind nagged furiously at her lack of dry fabric. She still bore chafe marks from her captivity in the abandoned motel room. The marks burned only slightly but increased her dissatisfaction intensely.
First Kincaid reaffixed the sharp, thin chain to Ivana's wrist. Then, as if a barrier to communication lifted between then, he began talking to her. All traces of a soft spoken fop's accent disappeared from his voice, a vocal trait Ivana had mistaken for effeminate. He tugged on her leash as he began to speak.
"I assume you haven't spoken much because you are traumatized by this experience, whether or not you'd like to believe that. Any young lady would be. There's no shame in finding yourself at a loss for words after being sold into slavery."
"We don't have slavery in the United States. There's no way this sort of thing could happen regularly without anyone noticing. This is some sort of staged event. This is something you people did to me, just to me," Ivana declared in a slightly raised voice. Her words were almost overly articulated and emphatic.
"I have to say that you are both correct and incorrect in your assertions. You are the only person involved. Slavery does still exist, however, here in the states and everywhere else.
"The worst sort of slavery is a lot more common than many people think. Young women, and sometimes even young men, though I shudder to think about it, are given regular doses of physically addictive substances while held captive. Once addicted the victims need the drug to prevent withdrawal. Withdrawal sickness has been described as so horrible the addict will do anything to get the drug. In cases of white slavery the victims use their bodies to pay their way further and further into the nightmare. White slavery is hardly a good description of the loathsome practice, since everything about it is like a stain on the goodness of humanity, but that is what it's called."
"The situation you find yourself in is nothing at all like that. My wife and I bought you outright from a black market business that deals in human lives. Anything and everything exists for people who have an abundance of wealth. We have a mountain of money, but new experiences are difficult to come by. Once we heard you are a virgin we simply couldn't resist. Besides, we were so happy with our third slave we decided it would be nice to get a fourth. Four gives our hobby a tight association with the square, if one thinks about it," Gregory Kincaid smiled slightly, pleased with the thought.
"You're insane. You're going to have to let me go. You can't keep me here forever. Either I'll escape or someone will find me. If you let me go I promise I won't say anything. You can just go back to your sick little fantasies of being a Roman or something, and I'll go home and take anti-anxiety pills until I don't remember this happened."
Kincaid tugged on her leash and Lacey followed him out of the posh bathroom and down a short hall. A door to her left opened into a closet that was bigger than her entire bedroom back home. She found herself enjoying being in a place that eloquently showed the wealth of the owners. Taking a look at the wardrobe she felt small butterflies. There were so many sexy looking things to wear. She loved to be garbed to allure, but her immediate, gut level response caused further irritability. Contentment could cost her the edge in finding a way out.
"Find something you like in the way of bra and panties, and make sure they are leather, black, tiny," the fat man said as he hooked her leash to a ring by the door. "We weren't pretending to be Romans, we were having a theme party. It was an event that reunited many of us from a University of Colorado fraternity house 30 years ago."
Ivana found a set she liked almost immediately. Only after she commenced to get dressed did she start to blush. Not having any clothes on had begun to feel normal. Covering up her nudity gave her goosebumps, a tingly effect further accentuated by the risue outfit. The center of the bras cups were missing, circles ringed with minute silver and mother of pearl beads. The circles framed her aureolas exactly. As the skin around her nipples tightened and raised she could feel the glittering adornments rub as they turned on unseen threads.
To remain focused on denying herself any pleasure from the experience Ivana set to gathering information from Kincaid. "Why am I here? Of all the girls in this country, why am I the one who got kidnapped and brought here?"
"You're far from being just a girl, sweetie. There are parts of the world where virginity at your age would be considered an absolute rarity. To be years past legal adulthood with your hymen still intact is simply phenomenal. I've never had one. We're going to have an extraordinary time together, you and I, but not before Ms. M. completely breaks and trains you. I want you in a state of complete abandonment to your own desires. You will beg."
The way the man said those things caused fear to stir in Ivana's inner core. She felt cold all over. For a few minutes she thought the couple could be kindly, eccentric millionaires who merely paid for a thrill. The way Kincaid spoke revealed a deep familiarity with the fetishes and practices she associated with someone in her position. In some dark fantasies back home she cuddled up to the disturbing ideas as she heated herself to the boiling point. There in that closet, in stark reality, the idea of being collared, whipped, subjugated and controlled, frightened her terribly.
Ivana tried to play it off. "You still haven't given me the slightest hint of why I am here. I'm just a farm girl. How would anyone even know I existed in the first place, much less conjecture about my virginity?"
"You attended high school with the son of one of the most powerful men in Texas. You may remember him. You accused him of raping you during the first semester of your senior year."
"Toby Schneider's father is powerful?" Ivana's response conveyed her immediate recognition of the incident to which Kincaid referred. She at once tried to back pedal. "I confessed to making it up. I told everyone it was all my fault, and that I was sorry."
"That's not exactly what happened. You had young Mr. Schneider arrested on the charge. Not until Mr. Schneider's defense attorneys procured a court order to have you undergo a physical examination did you evacuate the claim," Gregory Kincaid iterated with a tone so full of meaning and depth it caused Ivana's heart to palpitate. This man she now belonged to knew about the worst thing she had ever done, and he knew it in detail.
"I never meant for anything bad to happen to Toby." Lacey's words fell from her lips pleadingly, defensively. Even as she uttered the arrant falsehood she knew how transparent the lie.
"Toby's father believes the exact opposite true. You concocted the entire story out of pure malice. It was your heartfelt desire to see Mr. Schneider's life ruined before he even got started."
"But I took it all back. I suffered more because of it than he did. I had to write an apology to our entire class. It all amounted to nothing in the end. Nothing bad really happened," Ivana sputtered and insisted. Bright crimson heat flushed her cheeks, and her eyes darted furtively in a subconscious admission of guilt.
"After that apology you wrote letters to several of your friends claiming that you told the truth all along, that your parents forced you to drop charges. I even have one of them," Kincaid stated so matter of factly it almost sounded like "Tah-dah."
"It starts, 'Dear Elizabeth.' I wonder if Elizabeth knows about your bad side. In any case, 'Toby forced himself on me. No amount of money in the world, not even a mountain of lawyers, can change the truth of that.' That doesn't sound remotely like, 'I lied. Toby Schneider is innocent.' Does it sound that way to you?"
Ivana looked at dust on the floor and thought of herself as dirty on the inside, having, from her perspective, completely lost the moral highground. The hollow ring of her lies denied her the ability to feel anything but guilty, and hidden where no person could ever go a lightbulb came on. She felt she deserved to be owned, to be punished for what she had done. Her secret fantasies could never become pleasure through sheer force. Without an acceptance of the terms of her surrender by her own irrefutable logic, her situation could never be anything but despicable. An angle of her personality that said differently clicked into alignment. She could not admit to herself an ability to extract fulfillment from her ordeal, but a part of her had found the means.
"No. It sounds like I continued lying," Ivana admitted.
"No, what?"
"I kept lying," she told Kincaid in slightly shrill frustration.
"That's more than obvious, but you need to learn how to address me properly. You will address me as Master. That's the first thing you need to learn. The second thing you need to learn is that Ms. M. must always be addressed as Mistress. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"I had the feeling you're a slow learner. Yes, what?"
"Yes, Master."
"That's a start. Now get yourself together. You're about to be introduced to the household. After that you will be instructed as to your role here, and become fully acquainted with our rules and disciplinary procedures. And I have a ton of questions about you that are dying to be answered. I'm going to have a wonderful time. Are you ready?"
"Yes."
"That's one lash. I expect you'll do a lot better job of listening and responding after you understand what each one of those lashes means to you."
Kincaid freed a short riding crop from a hook on the back of his belt. He smacked Ivana across her left buttock. The action elicited a sharp cry from the young lady.
"Let's get moving now. There are so many things you need to learn today, and so little time."
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[Partially edited]