Jackie was Albert’s first wife, and in my first dreams of Albert I was his 2nd wife or mistress, and good friends with Jackie. I’ve been focused on Albert Patterson since I read his book, Rainyday Spy . It was not that his book was such a great literary masterpiece or classic, but Rudy Trunkler his protagonist was so very human. I figured that Albert was an interesting man that I would like to live my life with. He was my motivating factor as a girl in Brazil, and in Boston U.S.A. because I lived there half the time.
My father always told me, “Lydia you are the richest girl in the world. Name something that you will buy when I’m dead Lydia. What does the girl who can own anything or anyone buy?”
That was always his question and as a very little girl once I asked for a ‘real baby’. Well that screaming little thing really got worrisome soon. Once I picked Dalphene as my slave. She had been free and from the U.S.A. and very much like me. She was a good choice, unlike the baby, she was really a great choice and I kept her for years.
One day when I was just about age twelve I asked dad for ‘Albert Patterson’.
Dad was always serious about my requests because he wanted to prove to me that I really could have anything I wanted. He did a raft of original research on Albert, and came to me with a large binder of material — pictures and detective reports about Albert.
Then he said, “The sad fact daughter is that I think you want this Albert who is the author of twelve spy novels as he is. You are too young to be a wife, but you want something like marriage with him.
He is a semi-famous author and has a wife dear. His wife Jackie is a lawyer. They live in a very nice part of Tampa Florida. If he just disappears there will be an outcry, serious investigating and if its found out we took him there might be trouble, even for us.
I could send in a team of twenty men and we could stuff him in a bread truck and take him to an airport and have him in Brazil in chains. Men like that are often hard to train dear, with out drastic things like castration. We can have him in our house by next Wednesday, but do you want us to do it?”
“No”, I said, “but keep collecting the data for me.”
We were eating supper and when we were talking daddy would often play with his slave girl feeders. He often had a hand under a feeder’s dress, or put his hand down in the front of a dress, to handle breasts. The girl would say, ‘Thank you master.’
He never said anything to feeders. They were all about age twenty and were kept in a room off the kitchen. When I ate alone (which was most of the time) I would go in the room and pick 2 or 3 of them before I ate. I don’t think any man ever screwed even one of them.
So anyway father said, “If you had just been born a boy Lydia I could have gotten you about any woman with no problem. Women are expendable. Men get over losing women, you can always get another one. An important woman makes even a better slave than a woman who was born a slave. Men value them more. Women like to own women who have been important, and men do to. I have a princess of England and a queen of Italy locked in rooms in this house.”
I thought for maybe a minute, it was time for desert and I said, “Dad could you get me Albert’s wife Jackie and make it look like she was dead?”
“That’s something I can do dear. She’s not even important enough for Time/Newsweek to mention it. She travels without him, I think out-of-state.”
“Good,” I said, “I want her for a slave. If I pull out a few fingernails she will tell me everything.”
“You may not even need to do that dear. With the Princess I just chained her to a slave ring and heated up a branding iron and she vowed to do anything for me. She said, “Please delay the branding master, until I do something, anything to displease you.”
You know she never has been even close to making me displeased.”
One day about a month after I was promised Jackie, dad called me and said, “Honey, this is the day. If you will have Fred drive you over to our airport a rather large plane is about to land. I was told there are 220 passengers and crew aboard. They will all be lining up on the dock out there.
Maybe it’s best if you take that one slave women and let them cut the heads off the rest of the others.”
“That seems like such a waste dad. Can”t they all be put on some backwoods farm, maybe branded on the forehead and have their tongues cut out?”
“You are always the humanitarian honey. Just take the woman and go back home. I’ll give orders that the branding and tongues be done. Did you know tongue extraction is messy? Maybe you’ll want to stay around and see the dental device that traps tongues and snips them off.”
“Some other time dad, but thanks for getting Jackie for me.”
“Anything for my darling daughter.”
After I hung up I had one of my attendant women run and have Fred ready to take me to the airport. I could have actually taken a golf cart over to the runway, it was close to where I lived in the main house. Fred was an all-purpose slave, probably neutered, but I never checked. Dad called Fred by name and that was rare. Mostly he would just call them ‘Hay you.’
The airplane had printed on it’s side, ‘Florida 988′. Very rarely did we have vehicles that big at our airport, because mostly only dad or I would be leaving or arriving.
We drove up in my car and Fred took a set of chains and followed me. Dad had said that the 220 would be bowing, but they were standing up when I arrived.
The former passengers were in lines, the men in front and women and children in the 2nd line. At our airport we only had female guards, hefty muscle overloaded women . I guess sitting around waiting for planes that seldom came caused the waiters to put on weight. Most slaves are thin, when supervised. I guess dad didn’t pay much attention to food consumption down at the airport.
The redhead that ran our arrival center came over to me when I got out of the car and bowed. She said from the ground, “They were all told to bow mistress, but they refused. We have chained the men’s hands and we await your orders. Your father said you would look them over and tell us what should be done with them.
As we walked toward their lines she continued, “We have axes ready to cut heads, or whips to beat them.”
“Good work,’” I said, father often said that to inferiors that he wanted to get quite. I was almost 12 years old and full of my own power. The men’s line was smaller than the female one. Most were dressed in suits, two boys were in sailor uniforms.
As I walked by one man with hair larger than the others said, “What’s going on little girl and who the hell are you?”
Well the ‘little girl’ comment took the sails out of my boat and I said, “I am your owner dirt bag, and you are all my slaves.”
Jackie Patterson was easy to find. I had a lot of her pictures. She was dressed in a business suit, not much like girl garb. I knew I could learn much from her, but not how to dress for Albert, or any man.
She had two bags with her, ‘carry on’ luggage it was called. Most of the women with infants had diaper bags.
I pointed to Jackie and the red-headed amazon women chained her hands behind her back. “Also”, I said, “I want the blond girl and the pregnant woman put on the airport cart and brought up to my house. Put this one in my car. Take the luggage with her.
After Fred had Jackie in the car and the cart was driving toward my house I decided to do some penis research. I had looked at men’s penis equipment on the farm. Most were Indian or European and I had seen a few American male slaves, but not so many. All the men’s hands were chained behind them and they had chains on their feet so I told one of the hefty women, “Go down the row of men and pull down their pants and underpants. I want to inspect my animals.”
Several of the big women got all the pants down. On the 2nd row female passengers covered their children’s eyes. Then I went man after man and handled each penis and ball sack. Four of them got erections. That was my first time to handle a male erection. Slaves in the barn were too afraid of me.
All of them bowed down to be slaves when I said, “All of you who agree to be slaves bow flat on your stomachs, others keep standing and wait to be beheaded.”
I gave orders for all but the little kids to have their tongues cut out and have the word, ‘SPY’, branded on their faces. I said, “I will probably inspect them tomorrow morning or if I don’t come send them out to Borus (a primitive farm in the state we own) to be field slaves.”
I didn’t go down the next day.
Jackie Patterson was a delight to own. She had packed in her skull all the information I wanted about Albert. She was careful, but curious about me and her situation.
“You talk like your from Boston,” she said first.
“Yes I am, but call me mistress, because you now are my slave.”
“Yes mistress”, she said, “but why did you pick me?”
“I like the way you look. Your hair and face are a style I like.” Her hands were locked to the backseat of the car. “I’m curious about you and your previous life slave. You will tell me everything. I don’t watch movies, instead I like to hear life stories of those that I own.
Do you accept that you are my total property or do I need to beat you first?”
“Yes mistress I’m your slave.”
“Good.”
First I took her to a room, a small room with a desk, paper and dull pencils. There was no bed. I held her hand and led her to the already prepared area.
“What name would you like to be called female slave?”
“Jackie mistress.”
“Is that your real name slave?”
“Yes mistress,” she said, looking around the room, “I’m curious mistress what’s going to happen to the blond girl and the pregnant woman that you sent away in the golf cart?”
“The blond girl will amuse me. I’ll keep her like a family pet. She’s from the United States and maybe she will have a few good stories. She’s pretty and my father will sooner or later see her, by then she will not be that amusing.
The pregnant woman I’m going to put in the house of swollen women. You passed it driving up the hill to the house. That’s were all my father’s swollen women have their babies. She will probably get a service job around one of the houses.”
“Then mistress what will become of the rest of the passengers who were on the aircraft?”
“They will become farm slaves.”
“That’s a big airplane, won’t someone find it?”
“That airplane is already in a different part of the world. All the people are reported dead.”
“And where are we mistress?”
“Your home. This is where you live now, and belong to me.”
“I meant the country.”
“It’s none of a slave’s business.”
“I understand.”
“Your first task slave, Jackie, will be to write the story of your life. I want all the details. Start now at your teenage years. I like to hear stories about sex. I want all your sex stories girl-girl, and boy-girl. I want to know all the other stuff to. Write who you knew and what they said. I hope you will please me Jackie.
Work as long as you can tonight. I will leave the light on all night and have a girl check on you and tell me how long you write.”
“I’m hungry mistress, can I get something to eat?”
“A slave portion will be sent you. If you please me then tomorrow I will see you get some human food.” Food is a major weapon in the training and subjection of slaves.
That night I talked with the blond girl from the plane. She had been an only child, sort of like I was, and was spoiled. I had her brought to me naked because I thought that would humble her some. I was eating my supper and the girl was instructed to crawl to my feet. She was not the kind of girl who understood exactly what being a slave was. She sat on her knees some distance from me and said, “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Didn’t you learn yet who I am girl?”
“You look like a girl about my age, but people have been telling me all day that you are a ‘princess’ or ‘god’.”
“Maybe it would help if you tell me what you think happened to you.”
“My mother and I were going on a vacation to Bermuda. It’s off the coast of North Carolina. We left from the Tampa airport in Florida. We spent a month in Florida. People on the plane said we were going the wrong way and they were beaten up by thugs. All we had was crackers and soda on the plane and we landed here, where ever here is.”
“Where do you think you are?”
“Panama?”
“No, but as a slave girl it is not your business where you are. I am your owner and I will control where you are from now to the end of your life.”
“That’s a bunch of HOCKY POOP!”
“What is?”
“That I’m a slave. Slaves are poor people who work on farms and have committed crimes. My mother is rich, we have a house in Bermuda.”
“What were you told when you were brought to the room?”
“To crawl in, and go over to your feet and kiss them.”
“What did they call me? Who did they say, and which feet were you kissing?”
“God, they said you were god.”
“Yes I am, and are you going to crawl over here?”
“No, HELL no!”
I told my slave attendant, “Chain her up to a wall and give her 20 licks on her ass with a pony whip. Then bring her back when I’m having breakfast tomorrow.”
Two women who were waiting by the door carried her screaming, “Put me down.”
At breakfast the next morning the blond girl crawled in naked, but this time she had many marks on her ass cheeks. She crawled right to my feet and began licking them. I had shoes on, and she licked my ankles.
“So we can agree on what you are this morning?” I said.
“I’m your slave.”
“Yes and what do you call me?”
“God”
“Yes that’s right, so now take off my shoes and suck my feet with your mouth. Use your tongue.” She didn’t answer, but she did it.
After I had all the pancakes and melon I wanted, I put my plate down with the scraps on it and said, “Eat quickly and then put my shoes back on.”
As I went around the house that morning I had her crawl. When I sat and read a book I had her suck my fingers. Or read the book to me. She had a nice voice and said when I commented about it. “I’m going to be a singer when I grow up.”
About lunch time I took the blond to my bedroom and chained her at the foot of my bed. I told Daphene (the girl I’ve always slept with) to “Explain to this blond what duties a slave girl has in my bed and how to be submissive enough to please me. Then let her sleep for awhile.”
It was after my lunch when I went to see Jackie who was sitting at her desk writing.
“She just ate her food this morning, Oh God!” The slave woman said shaking in fear, “she began writing today but stops often.”
“Very good slave,” I said and squeezed one of her big breasts, “Your duty is to guard this door and report to me every little thing she does. Do you understand that?”
“Yes lord god”
I went in the room with my key and Jackie said, “Im glad your back mistress, I’ve been writing.” I picked up the pages and counted them. It was 10 pages written on only one side.
“This is not enough for the time you’ve had.” I said, “I left on the light so you could work all night.” I looked at the ten sheets and said, “There’s nothing about sex in this! I’m female like you and you were a girl once. I know how much we think about sex, and boys and men. You will write, you belong to me and you are forced to obey me.” I exhaled my breath and said, “I’ll give you a chance first Jackie before I get extreme and have you beaten with a pony whip. I’m going to deprive you of your clothing except your bra and panties. You get clothing back only if you produce truthful writing about your life and especially the sex part. Tonight I will send you another slave ration. Eat it when you get it and write until you get your food. I will have your guard rap on the window when it’s time to wake up in the morning and write. If I am disappointed in your writing tomorrow I will deprive you of all clothing
My father is not here now, but when he returns this is his house. He keeps maybe 200 concubines here under this roof. They are in their own area, but if he passes by your cell and sees a naked woman in here that he wants. Well it’s his house and you know how men are about strange pussy.
So you better write or you stay naked.”
Her panties and bra were both blue. I guess Albert was the last man to see her in those duds. I left her writing away. I checked and she had lots of pencils. I took the ten pages with me.
The slave guard got on her knees when I entered the hall and said, “What are your orders Goddess?”
“I don’t want you to sleep much. It is very important you watch this woman. I don’t want her to kill herself. I think she will write about more now that I’ve talked to her. Send her clothing to the laundry and then to my room. She will wear slave clothing if she earns the right to wear any.”
Jackie write a hundred pages every day for a while. I learned everything she knew about Albert. Believe me torture works with women. I didn’t even have to brand or whip Jackie to get her to do more or better. Sometimes just hearing her guard scream in pain was enough. Of course for little adjustments I slapped her face. Women love to be managed completely by men or if necessary by other women.
After three years of enslavement Jackie was now writing about her life with me. She learned how to do girl love with her tongue. Daphene was a great teacher and many nights we three slept in the same bed together. When Daphene and I were both age 15 we were both about as tall as Jackie.
Daphene and I were going off to my college in Boston and it would be too daring to take Jackie with me, since I had falsified that she died in a plane wreck. By then I talked to both my handmaids as if they were in on my decisions, but of course we all know they weren’t. Well I decided to let my father impregnate Jackie He had never met Jackie (Mrs. Albert Patterson), and she had a very nice shape. I ordered 3 doctors who studied Jackie and plotted her cycles. On the night that I ate supper with dad I trotted in Jackie nude on a chain leash.
“Dad this is that detective authors wife that you got for me on the plane.”
“Oh yeah nice animal honey. Is this a horse show or supper?”
“Well dad I wondered if as a special favor to me — could you screw her tonight and maybe also tomorrow night? I’ve decided I would like some children out of her with you. Your my two favorite people — well one person and one animal.”
“Sure honey, but what did you do load her up with fancy drugs for ‘multiple births?”
“Sure did dad, you might not get around to plugging her again.”
“So what was she in the United States? A housewife?”
“No a lawyer, she had a license to practice in Florida.”
“You know I don’t believe I ever screwed a lawyer before. Well maybe a couple I owned in France, but not from the United States.
By the way the bushy haired pussy is back in favor in Europe now. All the best shapes where they auctions a few select women they favor fat cunt lips and a good quanity of hair.”
“I know about the hair thing daddy, I checked with Sole in the harem about the little lipstick touches you might like.
Go over to him Jackie and let him rub your tits a little. It’s your chance to be with God.”
That was sort of how I ended supper with dad. But he did do the decent thing and took her to another room before there was more than finger penetration. I did that lots of times with Jackie. I always played the male aggressor in bed with Jackie and Dalphene. We would play the Rape of the Sabine Women using two finger penetration of Jackie and I would leave her screaming. when you really own the brain and body of a slave woman, and they love your like family and fear you like God, well their bodies organism. Dalphene begged me to break her cord, and treat her like Jackie, but I have this vision that when I surrender my virginity to Albert Patterson I would let him have her also. I just wouldn’t be as good if her cord was already broken, even if I explained it was done by my finger.
It was not that year, but father did die in an airplane crash and I didn’t think it was fake, although with Jackie’s example how would one ever really know?
I got twins out of Jackie. They were slave girls.
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The e-mail for Ray Cates is: rcates2@cox.net But please leave comments here. My fax number is: 1-352-629-1573
Links to other stories can be found at: http://unsightlyteeth.wordpress.com and http://goconstitution.wordpress.com
