THE WILLING SLAVE: A LOVE STORY

A young woman is devastated when her poor family sells her to be a sex slave. Things look black until she is bought one final time.

CHAPTER 1

I’d be the first to admit that I went off the deep end two years ago when my beloved wife died. It was actually a blessing—she had withered away over a fourteen month ordeal from some disease I had never heard of and never want to hear of again.

I went out and bought a Lamborghini, spending more than a quarter million dollars. I drove around in 55 mph speed zones doing 100 or more. I told you I was acting crazy. Fortunately, I sold it before I killed myself. I also bought a motorcycle, a big Harley, grew my hair long, added a scraggly beard and joined a motorcycle club. Outsiders would have considered it a gang, but most of our members held legitimate jobs, and even professions, but a couple bordered on being Hell’s Angels. The word was that they were involved in a lot of illegal activities—drugs, bootleg liquor, smuggling, hijacking, and even white slavery.

It was through the club that I happened to be seated at the bar in Hog Haven that Sunday night. The Haven is a bar that isn’t open to the public, but it’s not a private club either. It is strictly a bar for Harley owners and riders. Last year a couple of kids in their twenties came in riding rice burners—Japanese bikes—and were lucky to escape with their lives. On this evening I sat nursing a Bud when I heard Big Danny, one of the so-called “bad members” bitching. “I got to get the cash and all I got is this dumb bitch. She ain’t worth shit. She ain’t even trained yet, so how am I going to get ten grand for her?”

I looked up as I took a final slug from the longneck, asking, “What’s the problem, BD?”

“Shit, fuck, doc, I got this bitch, see. I bought her for ten grand and now I need the money to get my bike back. It got repo’d last night. They sent these two big coons with shotguns to get it. I been fucked.”

“So sell the bitch. What’s she like anyway?”

“She’s good looking, a brunette with decent tits, but she’s got a real shitty attitude, claims she was tricked into being a fucking slave. Yeah, tricked my ass; she just wants to get out of her bargain. Guy I bought her from told me he gave her folks seven grand for her. Told me she wanted to get away from her asshole father; said he been fuckin’ her since she was ten. Now she don’t want come across. Damn, she bit my cock last night.”

I laughed, “Sorry, Big Danny, but the idea of that just breaks me up. I hope you showed her you’re the boss.”

“Hell, yeah—I damn near busted her eye. Got herself a real nice shiner now; that’ll teach her.”

“How old is she, anyway?”

“Why? You interested in her, doc?”

“I might be; you know my wife died from that fucking disease. I still can’t pronounce it.”

“Well, the guy I got her from says she’s twenty, but she looks younger.”

“Hmmm…OK…you want ten grand, right?” He nodded. “Bring her to my place at midnight tomorrow night, but don’t beat her any more. I’m not going to pay that kind of money for damaged goods. I’ll have the cash, but if she’s busted up I’m not giving you shit.” I got up and left.

The guys call me “doc,” but I’m not a doctor. I’m a retired businessman. They call me that because I’m just about the only club member with a graduate degree, an MBA. I made my money in the real estate boom and got out a year before it crashed. I saw how the big national builders and mortgage companies were distorting people’s information to sell more and more houses and knew it couldn’t last. I sold my holdings cheap—about eighty cents on the dollar– just to liquidate them, but after the crash they were sold even cheaper—at about half what I got. Coming up with $10,000 would be a cinch; all I had to do was go to the bank.

Having Big Danny come to my house was chancy, but this way he’d be the one crossing the state line, not me, so any possible federal charges would be on him. Of course, I doubted that Big Danny knew that or even cared. The other thing was—I didn’t like to take my pistol, a Sig Sauer 9mm, out in public and there was no way I’d make a deal with someone like Danny without one.

The following night Danny showed up around 11:45 close enough to midnight for me. I just wanted it dark and late enough so my nosy neighbors wouldn’t see anything. Danny led this thin woman into the house in chains. This was going to be a real slave sale. I debated whether I should check her teeth. I could see that she was filthy. Her clothes were torn and dirty and her hair badly needed washing; no wonder she rebelled at Danny. I stood next to her and she looked to be about five feet seven inches tall, maybe four or five inches shorter than me. She had a good body—C-cup breasts probably, with narrow hips and broad shoulders and a flat abdomen. She had some decent muscle tone so I guessed she worked out or ran regularly. Her legs were long and well-formed with an attractive gap between her legs.

“OK, Danny, you have a deal.” I went to my safe and removed the money, passing two $5,000 bundles to him. He held out the keys to the locks, trying to get more, another $2,000. I put my hands on my hips, opening my shirt and flashing him my Sig, suggesting he should be happy to break even. He left and a minute later I could hear his truck back out of the driveway.

“OK,” I began, “what’s your name?”

“Fuck you.”

‘OK, Fuck, you need a shower and some new clothes. You’re filthy and you smell. The shower I can give you; the clothes will have to wait until tomorrow. It’s late so I’m going to keep you chained until we have a chance to chat in the morning. Let’s go.” Reluctantly she followed me into the bathroom. I cut the clothes from her body and pushed her into the shower. “Wash your hair. If you need help with anything, let me know.”

“You going to watch me, pervert?”

“As a matter of fact I am. I don’t know you well enough yet to trust you, but, if you want, I can get into the shower with you and wash you myself.” She actually did smile at that, but got in, closed the door and turned on the water. Fifteen minutes later she emerged, looking like a different person. I helped to dry her and gave her one of my tee shirts to use as a night gown. I unchained one wrist, looping and locking the chain to the bed frame. “Sorry,” I told her, “but it’s the floor for you tonight. You can share the bed with me tomorrow, if you wish. I’ll get you a pillow and blanket.” I tucked her in, kissed her forehead, and went to bed. I found sleep almost immediately.

CHAPTER 2

She was awake when I rose the following morning. I unlocked the chains, pointing her to the bathroom. “Here’s a toothbrush you can use, and some anti-perspirant. Sorry I don’t have any clothes for you, but I’ll go to WalMart later and get you some essentials. Let’s get some coffee first and then we’ll talk.”
She came out a few minutes later, telling me she borrowed my comb. She looked a lot better than last night, even with Danny’s shiner. I made coffee with my Keurig and gave her a cup, offering milk and sugar. “Let me explain what’s going to happen. Technically, you’re my slave, but I’m not going to chain you or beat you. In fact, once I get back from WalMart you can leave if you wish. But…where are you going to go? You have no money, no ID, no job, so what would you do? You’d have to become a hooker on the street and then you’ll meet some pimp or john who will be worse than Big Danny or wind up in jail. Your life won’t be worth shit. On the other hand if you stay I’ll treat you like my girlfriend. I’ll buy you clothes, take you to dinner, the beach and treat you well. You’ll still be my slave so I’ll expect you to have sex with me, clean the house, and prepare some meals for me, mostly dinner. Can you cook?” She shook her head “no.” “OK, I’ll have to help you. By the way, have a name?”

“Angel.”

“Your real name, not something some asshole gave you.”

She laughed, “That obvious? OK… it’s Andrea—Andie.”

“Thank you, I’m Adam. Let’s get something to eat, I’ll bet you’re hungry. When did you last eat?”

“Day before yesterday—a sandwich.” I got a cantaloupe from the fridge and cut it open for her. She wolfed it down. I broke out a pound of bacon and about eight eggs. I had the griddle going in seconds, the entire pound spread across its hot surface. I mixed the eggs together and scrambled them once the bacon was done. Andie swiped a piece and I playfully swatted her hand with my fork. Minutes later the eggs were scrambled and we sat down to eat. I remember being young—I’m now 60—but I don’t remember eating as much as Andie ate that morning. I guessed that Danny wasn’t big on treating his guests with civility. He probably couldn’t even spell it. Seeing her cup was empty I refilled it with fresh coffee.

We cleaned up together and I gave her a pad and pencil. “Write down your sizes–bra, panties, and blouse and pants or shorts. Also I’ll need your shoe size. Walmart is about twenty minutes away so figure I’ll be back in about 90 minutes. Now…you’ll have the run of the house. I’m not going to lock everything up—we’d be here until tomorrow, but, trust me, there’s not enough to steal to make it worthwhile, and then I’d have to call the cops. Have a seat and watch TV, or find a book to read, or just walk around. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

I know nothing about shopping for women’s clothing so it took me longer than I expected. I returned almost two hours later to find Andie sitting in the living room reading a Playboy. I gave her the bags and she dressed. After seeing her naked last night there wasn’t much reason to be bashful or shy, so she did it right in the living room. I wasn’t expecting any compliments for my selections, but she did say, “Thanks” several times.

“I’ve been thinking, Adam. You’re right–if I leave here I’ll wind up worse off than I was before so I guess you’re stuck with me.” She walked up to where I was sitting, dropped into my lap, and kissed me. It was a “friends” kiss, not a “lovers” kiss, but that was OK with me. I was glad she was staying. “You know, I have a lot of experience fucking older men…my asshole father and grandfather have passed me back and forth for years.”

I pulled her head to my shoulder, caressing her head and running my hand through her lustrous hair. “Put that behind you. It will never happen again. Now, let’s go shopping.” We climbed into my BMW and headed to the nearest mall. I tried to keep up with Andie as she ran from store to store. I left her in Victoria’s Secret while I put several big bags into the trunk. I returned just in time to pay the bill.

“OK, Adam, I’m done.” I asked if she were sure and she laughed, “Just how much money do you have?”

“Enough to take care of both of us; now, want lunch or should we go home?”

“Let’s go home. I think I need to thank you.”

“No, you don’t need to. I don’t want you to feel you need to do anything. It’s much more fun with a willing and eager partner.” I drove home and showed her where to put her clothes. She marveled at the size of the closet. My wife had been a clothes hound with more than a hundred pairs of shoes and dozens of outfits so her closet was built to handle all this. There were drawers and mirrors and shelves like even I couldn’t believe at times. It took us almost two hours to get everything done. I made a drink and retired to the screened porch, looking out over the golf course.

“Where are we,” Andie asked.

“In southeastern North Carolina, near the South Carolina border—the Atlantic is about two miles over there.

Are you from around here?”

“No, I’m originally from West Virginia–you know one of those coal mining towns that have gone broke. My family was poorer than dirt. I really can’t blame my father for trying to sell me, but I can’t forgive him either.”

“Listen, if you’re going to live here you need to help yourself to food or drink—coffee or soda, or whatever. Are you old enough to drink?”

“Almost—but I’ve been drinking for years. I’ll be 21 in another month.” We chatted about everything and nothing trying to get to know each other. The more she told me the more I marveled that she had even lived to see twenty. I knew things were tough in most of the bankrupt coal towns, but I never imagined the conditions Andie described to me. There were ten people in her family—mom, dad, grandpa, and seven kids, all in four rooms in a house with no indoor plumbing and no insulation. For Andie to live with me must be like living in a palace. I had finished my drink so I got up for another, “C’mon,” I told her, ”I want to show you how to make drinks. Ever hear of a gin and tonic?” She shook her head “no” so I went through the very basics with her as I made two drinks. “Here, try it. I find it really refreshing, especially on a hot day.” We returned to the screen porch where I sat on the love seat. I was a bit surprised when she sat next to me—very, very close to me.
I toasted her, “Here’s to a successful relationship—for both of us.” When I looked at her she had a tear in her eye. “What’s the matter,” I asked.

“I can’t believe how lucky I am. I could have wound up with someone like that Danny jerk, or even worse. Instead I’m with a gentleman who treats me with respect, like I’m a real person.” I put my arm around her shoulder as she cried—broke down—into my chest. I held her for almost thirty minutes, stroking her cheek, rubbing her back, and caressing her hair.