Category: Personal Contact Conversion

The Biker Saga Chapter one

I hear the rumble of what sounds like a dozen motorcycles outside. I checked the monitor and sure enough there is a bike gang in my driveway. Looks like 10 motorcycles, one with a sidecar, each with a woman tied to the saddle. I recognize one of the guys as being one of the bouncers at ‘Hot Toddies’, a strip club I regularly get ‘volunteers’ from. The others look like some dudes I’d seen hanging out there.  They were all wearing Eastlake MC colors.  Actual bike gang, not some “rich urban biker” types.  The girls have their hands zipped tied and are ball gagged.  They don’t look happy.  While I’m watching, the bikers get off their bikes, cut the girls off the saddles, then start to cut the girl’s clothes off. Well, that means this probably isn’t going to be a hold up.  No visible guns also lowers that possibility.  Of course several of them have very large knives.

After a few minutes of cutting clothes off of the unwilling women, then dragging them, one at a time, into the store, they have all come in. Lots of yelling by the bikers and more than one backhanded slap. The women are put against the wall,  with a skinny biker standing in front of them holding a knife long enough that you might call it a short sword threatening them if they even move.  The girls look properly cowed. As the other nine bikers come up to Vicky’s desk, I turn on the audio pick up so I can hear what’s going on.

The apparent leader leans over to talk with Vicky, looking down her cleavage, “Sweet meat, me and the boys are going on a long road trip, maybe relocate someplace. We’d like to sell off our sluts to cover some of the expenses. Can you help us out here honey bunches?”

Vicky looks up at him and says “Of course I can sir, that’s what we do here at Spellbook Slaves. Just a moment sir, while I contact the owner, he has to approve any buy of more than 3 slaves.” With that, she use the intercom (which automatically kills my audio pickup, to avoid feed back) “Mr. West? We have some gentlemen here to sell ten slaves to us, for moving expenses.”

“Thank you Vicky, send them in.”

The biker talking to Vicky smiles at her and reaches out and pinches her cheek.  “Thank you very much, little lady.”

The nine bikers come into my office, leaving the skinny biker as a guard for the girls.  The leader takes the chair in front of my desk, the others forming a semi circle behind him. “My boys and I are going to go on a long road trip, maybe change our hang outs. We’ve decided that we don’t want to take our bitches with us. So here is the deal, we want you to do that grading thing on the sluts, and then make us a fair offer for them. You don’t have to grade Terrie, the redhead, just do whatever magic that puts her on a spit. We are gonna have a BBQ before we leave and we decided that she gave the worst head, so she was the roast.

I nod “Of course, bad cocksuckers should pay the price for their lack of skill.”

I page Vicky: “Vicky, start grading the girls and make sure that the system knows that they have their arms restrained and that they are ball gagged. Get a urine sample from each of them then run the slave tests of course. Bring me the results when you are done.  Don’t grade the redhead, but take her to the torture chamber and put her on the Jessica 3000, but do not turn it on until I say so. “

“Yes sir, do a standard intake on all of them but the redhead, who goes on the Jessica.  She looks like she should be on a spit.”

Looking at Terrie through the CCTV, I agree with Vicky, Terrie looks like she would have graded out as A-prime, which would likely mean she would be spit bait anyway.  Sorta makes me wonder why a girl that looks like that ended up as a biker bitch. Her grade doesn’t normally live very long as slaves unless they are bought fairly quickly to be arm candy or a fuck toy.  Or both.  Even now there is a fairly high demand for seeing the hottest slaves get tortured to death.  One reason why we have a torture chamber with a watching area.  And if what they are saying is right, that she isn’t a good cocksucker, well being spitted is probably the best thing for her.  Any slut that looks like her should at least suck cock at least halfway decently.  I have a bad feeling about this conversion however.  Bikers aren’t my normal south side rich families and I need to cross all my tees, dot all my eyes and do all the things the act in theory requires, which includes a drug screen, even if it’s optional now. But how do you tell a bunch of bikers that they have to pass a piss test and not have an abuse complaint filled against them before you can enslave their “bitches”?

Might as well take the bull by the horns… “You do know that there are some rules I have to follow, right?” “Oh, yeah, we know. Tiny, give him the stick.” the leader says. Tiny, who, of course, is the largest guy in the gang, digs around in the pockets of his jacket and hands me a USB stick. “We have a new afternoon thing at the club house, Doggy Style Camera Hour. he says as he hands it to me. I take the stick and pop it into my computer. They have video files on the stick with date stamps. Looks like they covered the last 14 days. I start up the first video file. It’s a video obviously taken with GoPro mounted on the ceiling. It clearly shows a biker fucking his bitch doggy style. Good shot of both of their faces. The video fades to black then comes back up with another pair. Eight more scenes later I’ve seen all ten. I clicked to go to the next file and it was more or less the same.  I do split screen pause and compare so that I can tell it’s the same biker and bitch each time. I go on the 3rd file, do the same comparisons and it was more of the same.  I stop the app and remove the stick and hand it back to Tiny. “Not going to watch all 2 weeks worth?“ I shook my head, “No, I only need to see 3 separate acts each, with in the last 30 days. You’re good. Now if you would each fill out a form for me indicating which slave is yours, then give me piss sample, we can complete this transaction.  There is a restroom off the main lobby”

Decide not to tell them that if they had fucked their bitch in each of her holes in one session it would have been enough.  Water under the bridge now.  Looked like they were having fun fucking doggy style.  Of course if they did that it would have made my life a lot easier.  Meh.  It’s not like they were really ugly chicks getting fucked, so watching a little porn wasn’t so bad.  At least this was semi pro.

They take the forms and start to fill them out, leaving one at a time  to fill the sample cup.  One of them took a form and cup out for the guard.  As soon as I had all of the forms on my desk, I ran their names and the name of the possible slave they were selling to me through the state database. They all came up clean with no disqualifying reports for the bikers and all the women are free and convertible. Well, that’s a bit surprising, I would have thought that a biker would have at least one complaint against him, but given that the slaver database only checked for the women being converted, not against any complaints they may have it might not be that surprising. Now the possible drug issue, this may be fun. I run the drug screen and am surprised that all of them are clean, not even weed, which would have been OK, “OK you’re clean, assuming the slaves aren’t pregnant we’re good to go” Tiny was nodding his head “Told you guys that they would check and staying clean for a month would work ”

Well, that explains that. All that we need to do is get the girls pregnant tests results from Vicky, then get their grades so I can make an offer.  Shortly after I think this, Vicky comes in with the test results.  None of them are pregnant but they are all high as a kite on almost all the drugs we test for other than opiates.  Doesn’t matter, they aren’t volunteers and nothing says a converted slave needs to be sober.  A lot of them aren’t.  Maybe even most of them that aren’t volunteers.

“Well, gents, we are clean and ready to go here. Let’s talk about Terrie first. I assume you want her on the spit today?  And I am to understand that you are going roast her for human consumption?” When told this is the case, I go on, “Well, I’ll take the one hundred dollar tax and fee for doing an ‘at conversion time’ snuff out of what I’m gonna pay you for the other 9 slaves.  If you want to watch her get snuffed that costs extra.  We will supply a suck slave if you want while you watch, it’s an optional extra in the service.” While I was saying this, I get a report on my computer from the grading system telling me that it was finished with the grading of other nine slaves. I glance at the grades, all of them  are either B+ or A “Based on what I’m seeing of their grades, I can offer you 1000 each less the fifty dollar tax, which means, your walk out of here would be $8,450, plus Terrie on a spit. How does that sound to y’all?” There was a chorus of agreement around the room. “OK, you want that on a prepaid debit card, cash or a certified check? Also, when do you want Terrie spitted and do you want her tortured before she is spitted?”

I am informed that they want cash, they want Terrie on the spit now, no they don’t want to watch, and no they don’t want her tortured first. I nod, then call up the torture chamber, telling Vicky to go ahead  and snuff Terrie on the Jessica, using the gutting option, as soon as possible. Vicky asks me if I want the other slaves to watch Terrie  being snuffed, so I look over at the leader of the bikers. He shrugs and says “Might as well, but the sluts are your problem now“. I nod and tell Vicky to go ahead and have them watch.  After I hear the Jessica start up in the torture chamber, I open up the safe and count out $8,450 in cash. This pretty much drains the cash reserve. Need to make a get more cash from the bank later today. I ask “How do you want to split this up?” Tiny says “Well, I’m the club treasurer so just give it to me.” As no one objects, I toss it to him. The leader says “Put Terrie in my side car”

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The Biker Saga, Chapter Two

After the bikers had left, I went into the torture and snuff room, where the surviving 9 slaves were still zip tie restrained and ball gagged.  Most of them looked subdued, with one of the girls crying.  One was masturbating however.

They were all thin to very thin, which seems to be one of the two options for biker’s bitches.  I’m surprised we didn’t have any of the other type, which tends to be massively overweight. I looked them over, while holding the paperwork I had on them. “As I call out your former name come to me so I can put a slave collar on you, remove your ball gag and cut you free.  I do want to warn you that the only thing keeping you from be put on the Jessica 3000 spitting machine is me. If you give me the smallest amount of problems I will taser you then snuff on the spot.  I almost want one of you to try it.  I like snuffing new slaves.”  Actually I only like snuffing slaves that have pissed me off and none of these have done that, yet anyway.

“Anita Brady” Anita is a dish water blond. Graded at B+

“Maryellen Combs” Maryellen is a tall, very thin pale blond.  Graded at B+

“Nadine Wiley” Nadine is a dyed blond, with long dark roots. She has the largest tits of the group, She has large nipple rings and a devil tattoo her left hip. Graded A.

“Eleanor Benton” Eleanor has black hair,with no visible tattoos or piercing. Graded B+.

“Diane Koch” Diane is a hard looking women, with dark brown hair. She is heavily tattooed and has pieced nipples, navel, cunt lips and the lip on her face. Graded B+. I’m sorta surprised at that.  I would have graded her B at the highest.  System must not downgrade for too many tattoos.  She is trying to look defiant, but failing.

“Kelsey Whitfield” Kelsey is the opposite of Diane, in that she looks very soft and round. Nice well shaped tits, and what appears to be naturally blond hair. Of all the new slaves, she is the one who is showing the most emotion, as she is crying. Graded A

“Lucy Salas” Lucy has jet black hair and is what you would expect a biker bitch to look like. Shaved cunt and an eagle tattoo on her left shoulder. Graded A.  She looks bored.

“May Perkins” May has violet hair and looks more like a club/rave chick than a biker bitch. She has pierced nipples and no visible tattoos. She was masturbating as I did my inspection. Graded A.

“Jaclyn Mason” Jaclyn was a platinum blond, and would be the one to give Nadine a run for her money in the largest tit contest. Graded A

The grading system either likes weird hair colors and tattoos or it doesn’t take hair color or tattoos into its grading. I know it doesn’t count for against a grade if they are pierced unless the piercings are very large or numerous and in an unusual places. I need to read up on the grading scale it uses and maybe tweak it a bit. Its given some surprising results in the last couple of weeks.

After looking them over, I decide to move them to the monitored retail stock storage room. I log their collars to the network and have Vicky take them to their new home.

I go back down to my office, and start looking at the last profit and loses statement. While I’m checking the accounts, the phone rings. Caller Id says “J. Whitfield”. I recognize the name as the last name of one of the biker bitch slave, the one that was crying. Oh, this is going to be fun.

“Spellbook Slaves, can I help you?”

Long pause. A woman’s voice “Did you say Spellbook Slaves?”

“Yes, I did, and how can I help you today?”

“I don’t understand. That horrible man that Kelsey, my eldest daughter, is dating told me that if I ever wanted to see her again, I need to call this number. He implied it was a kidnapping, not some sort of slave thing.  I don’t understand, I never wanted her to be a slave.”

This lady seems to not understand that there has been female slavery for 24 years now and that parental conversion wasn’t the only way a young woman could be converted.  And her attitude pisses me off.  Might as well let her have it with both barrels.

“No, Mrs. Whitfield, it’s not a kidnapping. Kelsey was enslaved this afternoon, by a person of personal contact,  her biker boyfriend. I have proof that he fucked her, maybe in the ass, maybe in the cunt, that doesn’t matter, at least 3 times in the last thirty days.  That makes it legal for him to convert her to being a slave.  He took this option today.”

“Well, that’s not acceptable! You are going to have to free her at once, or I will contact the authorities  and have you shut down!  You will release her this afternoon and if she has been harmed in any way I’ll sue!”

“I’m sorry, I really can’t just do that. I have a legal conversion to slave status on her.  Legally she’s not your daughter any more, she’s legally just barely a human now.  I could go in to her holding cell and kill her right now if I wanted.  Do you want that Mrs Whitfield?”

I hear her raise her voice “Jonathon come talk to this horrid little man“. That’s going to cost her.  I think I’ll sell Kelsey to a torture training class, assuming I don’t just don’t snuff her for shits and giggles. I’m not mad at Kelsey, I’m mad at her mother and I can’t get to her, not yet anyway.

After a few seconds, I hear a deep male voice “This is Jonathon Whitfield. What seems to be the problem here?  Do I understand correctly that you have Kelsey as a slave now?”

“There is no problem here other than your wife’s understanding of slave law.  And yes I have your daughter, Kelsey as a slave.  She was enslaved this morning, by a person of personal contact, and it appears that, as a joke, he contacted your wife about this, implying that this was a kidnapping, not a conversion.”

I hear him clear his throat. “That’s step daughter, by the way. I assume you have all the required proofs and that the taxes have been paid at this time.”

“That would be the case.”

“I see. Well, our, no, my lawyer will be in contact with you later.” With that the line went dead.

I wonder why he changed it from “our” to “my” there? Not that it matters, it was a clean no issues enslavement, and there really wasn’t any thing they could do. Of course I expected them to buy her back, and maybe pay a manumission tax, but that’s not the big of a deal.

About an hour later, the phone rings. Caller ID says “DHB LLC”. I have no clue who this is. I pick up “Spellbook Slaves, can I help you?”  I need to check the phone system’s front end.  I’m getting a lot of blind calls.  I have staff for that.

“This is Leo Clifton, I represent Jonathon Whitfield. I’m calling regarding the enslavement and sale of his step-daughter Kelsey.  My client wants to know what her value is on the open slave market?”

Odd that they aren’t trying to challenge the enslavement. I expected that they would.

“Her sale value, based on her appearance grade of A, would be two grand, plus two fifty slave tax and five hundred manumission tax.  That’s without sex or skills test. If we had those on record or decided to have her test her price could go up substantially.”

“So we are talking $2,250 walk away price with out any skills then?”

“No, $2,750, two thousand for her slave price, two fifty federal slave tax, five hundred manumission tax.”

“I didn’t say anything about freeing Kelsey”

OK, this is going to be fun.

“Well, I had assumed that from Mrs. Whitfield’s remarks to me.”

“I do not represent Mrs. Whitfield in this matter. I am Mr. Whitfield’s counselor.”

The penny drops. “I see.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. West, I will be back in contact with you after I speak with my client.”

About an hour later, he calls back. “I have spoken with my client. What he purposes is that he pays for Kelsey to be sent to an oral training center, of your choosing, for a week. She is to be orally tested after that time. If her oral rating is 90% or higher, he will purchase her as a personal slave. If it is not, he wants her to be converted to meat status, and will buy her with the intent of having her roasted alive. He has set an upper limit of $1,500 for the oral training school. Is this acceptable to you at this time?”

I inform Mr. Clifton that this is acceptable, and that I will be in contact with him after the training and testing is over, I also inform him that as of the 2016 update to the White Slave Act,  there was no slave meat status and she would sell for full value.

I don’t even think about why a step father would want his step-daughter to be trained to a level better than most porn stars in cock sucking. I suspect that Mrs. Whitfield doesn’t know about this. I make a few phone calls, and later that after noon “Gallus Lactens Disciplina, Inc.” came by to pick Kelsey up. Before they took her away, I took Kelsey aside and told her that her step father had asked for this training.

She looked blankly at me.

I told her that she was going to spend the next week training on her cock sucking skills, and that if she didn’t score at least an 90 on her oral skills test, that she would be roasted alive, not spitted like Terrie, but kept alive over the coals for a long as possible.

She blinked up at me “Jonathon wants me to suck his cock?  Doesn’t mom do that for him?”

“He at least wants you trained as a cocksucker, I don’t know why and I’m not even going to guess if your mother blows your step father or not.”

“And if I don’t do it good enough he wants to roast me alive and eat me?”

“That appears to be the case.”

“Then I better learn to suck cock like a pro.  No one has every complained about my head before but I can always get better.”

“Only if you don’t want to roast”.

With that touching exchange over, she got into the van.

Two days latter, I get a call from GLD saying that Kelsey has asked to be tested ahead of the one week, and she was willing to risk the roasting pit. I tell them that I will ask the buyer if that is acceptable, and if it is, I’ll have her tested.

A call to Mr. Clifton later reveals that his client has no objections to Kelsey being tested early. I make a call to Eastlake Sex Testing. I tell them that I don’t need any tests but oral and to put it on Spellbook’s account.  Kelsey is to be returned to my store and her grade needs to be in a sealed envelope.

That afternoon, EST delivers Kelsey back to me, with a sealed evaluation. I call Mr. Clifton, who tells me to not open the evaluation, but to wait until his client is present. They arrive within the hour.

Once Mr. Whitfield had settled into the easy chair in my larger office, I called Vicky and instructed him to bring Kelsey to the room. Kelsey arrived, totally nude, with her hands behind her back. She, with out being told, sank to her knees in front of her step father. She looked up at him

“Master Jonathon , I am willing to serve you with my mouth, or to feed you with my flesh, which ever way pleases you.”

Why do the odd families end up in my shop? Shouldn’t bitch about it however, weird south side families are three fourths of my clients.

Mr. Whitfield motions to me, “Please, read the report“. I open the report.
“It seems that Kelsey has a oral sex rating of 95”

Upon hearing that, Mr. Whitfield unzips his pants and pulls his semi-hard cock out. “Prove it slut.” he says flatly. She had already started to rise up to take his cock into her mouth as he said that. She took him into her mouth and began to alternately apply lip and tongue action to his hardening cock. Once his cock was hard she started to take him deeper and deeper into her throat, finally taking him all the way in. Once she had reached that level she kept her head down and I could see her swallowing repeatedly, massaging her step fathers cock with her throat muscles. After 15-30 seconds of this, she slowly raised her self up, takes a breath, then lowered her self back down on to his cock, repeating the swallowing once she had him fully in her throat. After the 3rd or 4th cycle, he grabbed he head and held it down as he came into her throat. Once he had finished, he pulled his cock from her mouth, then pushed her back down, so that she was sitting on her knees again. “Leo will take you to you new residence. I will visit you several times a week and you will service me.  Your life now revolves around your oral skills. On some visits I may bring business guests. You will service them as well.  If I tire of your service or I feel that you are not doing your utmost to please me, I will have you roasted for a business dinner.” He stands, adjusts and zips his pants, then reaches into his jacket, removing an American Express Black which he hands to me. “Run this for $3,750, which I believe this was the agreed amount for the slave and the training?” I agree, and take the card.

He clears his throat, “I  have several other step daughters, what do I need to do to enslave them? And what are my limits once they have been made a slave?”

“Bring them in and request a conversion.  We will buy them at current wholesale prices. If you want to keep them for yourself there  is a small fee and tax to do that.  If you want them tortured or snuffed we can do that while you watch, for a fee. If you don’t want to watch, but just want her killed, it’s like you took her with you, and is just the tax and fee. We convert step-daughters almost everyday.  There are no limits on what you may do to a slave you own.“.

“My wife doesn’t have any say in this?”

“Nope.  As a step father you have full enslaving rights on any of your step daughters who are of age and under twenty six.  They  have to be living with you at the time of conversion.”

“Thank you, I may return later in the week” He turns to his lawyer “Leo, please make the arrangements for housing, monitoring and the other issues we brought up.” With that he leaves the office.  Leo thanks me, takes Kelsey by her hand, and follows Jonathon out of the office.

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The Biker Saga Chapter Three

After they leave I settle down behind my desk and get out the profit and loses statements. Seems I spend a lot of time with them. Need to get Celina out of the holding cage and put her to work. There is no reason for me to do this accounting  crap when I have a CPA slave on hand. While I’m grousing about this the phone rings, Caller ID show “Deirdre McClure”.  I’m still getting blind calls, really need to check the phone system’s front end. “Spellbook Slaves, may I help you?”

An older lady answers me “I do hope so, the other slaver that I have called wasn’t very helpful.”

“Well, what can I do for you?”

“Well, you see, my husband just turned 55, and the darn fool went out and bought himself a motorbike. Thinks it’s going to make him younger, or something, like he needs that, but you don’t care about that. I want to get him someone to go on the damn thing, because I’m damn sure not going to, and I’d rather he not ride it alone.”

“You want to buy a slave to ride with him on his motorcycle?”

“That and to do fellatio on him or get buggered by him. I never did like either of those, but he sure does.”

“OK, I think we can work something out, any requests about the slave?”

“Well, ideally, she should be about half his age, but not too young, have black hair and a tattoo or two.  Looking like a biker moll would be a plus”

“I think I can help you here. As it happens, I’ve got a group of slaves that one of the local biker gangs sold to me as they were leaving town. Why don’t you come down to the store and check them out?”

We made arrangements, agreeing that she would be here within the hour.

I checked the video monitor of the room where the biker slaves were being kept. The 8 slaves were all laying around, basically doing nothing. May, the raver chick, is masturbating. While I watched, Diane, the slave that more or less acted like the leader of this group of slaves, walked over to May, saying something to her. Need to get the microphone in that room active. May stopped fingering herself and got up on her knees in front of Diane, who grabbed May’s head and pushed it into her crotch. I could tell by the way that Diane was acting that May was fairly good at licking cunt. While watching May go down on Diane was sort of hot, I decided that this was group dynamic that I need to break up.

I went down the hall to their room, opening the door with no warning.

“And what do you thing your doing, Diane?”

She turned her head and looked at me “Getting my cunt licked by this slave slut. That’s her job, her main mission in life.  It was before we got sold and I don’t see any reason for it to stop,  She was my slave before all this crap, she still is.”

I locked eyes with her. “I don’t think so.  You’re a slave, not a head biker bitch anymore.” Then I hit her with a level 9 shock, the highest level short of snuffing. This makes her scream loudly for several seconds, then pass out.  These new slave collars are really worth using, makes controlling slaves much easier than using a taser.  The other slaves looked stunned, other than May who smiles and slowly starts to finger herself again. I’ve never seen her NOT masturbating or doing something sexual in one form or another. After a minute or two I awakened Diane with some smelling salts. Once she was awake, and sort of sitting up, I turn and addressed the slaves.

“OK, as now, no one is to lick Diane’s cunt unless directed to by me, and that’s not very likely. On the other hand, Diane is to lick any of your cunts whenever you ask. If you don’t think she is doing a good enough job of it, let a staff member know and she will be punished. Harshly. Oh, and this room is monitored and you’ll get some  nicer treatment if you have her lick your cunts where the camera can see you.   Doesn’t just have to be her, any of you can finger your cunt or do each other for the camera.  Slave porn is a thing, but if we don’t see Diane licking at least half of you every day, all of you will be punished that night. Harshly punished.  You have been in the torture room,  those are not toys. Do I make my self clear? Diane, you can start with May, right now.”

Diane staggers over to May, who grabs her by her head and pushes it into her crotch.

“Who’s the cunt licking slave now cunt face?  Make me cum or I’ll have the nice man punish you. I almost hope you don’t make me cum fast enough because I’d like to see you whipped, bitch”

“Having her whipped can be arranged.  Tell Vicky when you want it done.”

The feral smile that May had when hearing this was almost frightening.

“Oh, I will, yes I will” She pushed Diane’s head deeper into her crotch.  “Lick bitch and make it good then I might have them go easy on you when you are done with us”

I pointed at Lucy Salas, one of the two black haired girls, and the only one with a tattoo. “Lucy, how old are you?”

She looked at me, then said “I just turned 26. Got a present, my boyfriend gave me a necklace for my birthday.” She said this while playing with her slave collar.

I snorted “At least he didn’t invite you out for BBQ, like Terrie’s boyfriend did.”

She looked back at me “Why do you ask?  Is it my time now?”

” Sorta, but this might be your lucky day. I’ve got an older woman client who wants to buy a biker “moll” to ride with her husband on his new motorcycle, so she doesn’t have to. You are the only one that meets all of her criteria. Come with me.”

I take Lucy back to my office. As I was leaving, the rest of the slaves were standing in a semi-circle around Diane, who is still licking May’s cunt. I suspect that Diane would end up licking cunt on all of them this afternoon.  And getting whipped after she was done.  Can’t have uppity slaves. Gonna turn the room camera into a web cam while they are all in there as soon as the mic gets turned on.

We waited in my office for a few minutes, until Vicky pages me, “There is a Mrs. McClure to see you.” “Send her in, Vicky”

Mrs. McClure walked into the office and took one look at Lucy and went “She’s perfect. You say she is a real life biker gang moll?”

I nodded “Well, technically not any more, but yes, she was sold to me by her biker boyfriend.”

Mrs. McClure pulled a credit card out of her purse. “And how much for her?” I thought about it, in general Lucy would be about two thousand for her grade, and unknown skills, but she did have the biker bitch look about her, which normally would have lowered her value, but not in this case.

“$2,000 plus slave tax, which would bring it to $2,250” I said, being willing to drop it to as low as $1,700 if she wanted to bargin.

Mrs. McClure just said “I assume you take MasterCard“.

“Sure do.” With that, I took the card and ran it. I registered the federal tax, and was about to do the transfer of status on Lucy.  “Who do you want her registered to, you or your husband?”

“Oh, me, definitely me.” With that information, I finished the transfer and removed Lucy’s collar.

After I was done doing that, Mrs. McClure turned to Lucy “OK, here are the rules. You are my slave, not Fred’s. Don’t forget that. You are to ride with him whenever he gets on that damn toy of his. If he wants you to perform fellatio, you will do that. If he wants to bugger you, you let him do that, but you are not to let him have normal sex do you understand me? If I find out you had normal sex with him I will have you strung up and whipped.  I’ve got a friend with one of those mistress license things who has fully equipped torture room. I  understand she does private sessions. I’d be willing to pay her full going rate. If you’re not out ridding with Fred, or not being used in some sort of perverted sex act by him, you are to help me with the house work and cooking, and help me in raising my four youngest teenage daughters. I think you will make a great negative role model on what not to do for them.  Actually, I should say, do the house work and cooking, I’m not going to be doing it any more.  That’s what teenagers and slaves are for.”

I decide to not tell Mrs. McClure that she can most likely have her daughters converted and force them to live however she wants.  She doesn’t seem to be that type of mother.

Lucy took all of this in “You mean all I have to do is ride with your husband, blow him when he wants it, maybe take it up the ass, do a little housewife stuff and act as a bad example for your kids?  That’s all? No weekly torture sessions, no daily gang bangs or group facials?”

“No, of course not, my dear. The only reason you would be tortured is if you let Fred have normal sex with you, I’ve warned you about that.  Then it might be harsh for you. Of course if Fred wants to ejaculate on your face, you will let him.  Wash it off as soon as possible however.”

Lucy looks at me “If you ever see Snake again tell him ‘Lucy says thanks for the birthday present, it’s the best one ever‘”. With that, she stood up, and walked over to Mrs. McClure, who took her by the arm and started out the door. As they left I heard Lucy say “So, Mistress, what kind of bike does Fred have?“