Objects of Maturity
As was usually the case on an Auction
night, the viewing floor was milling, men and ladies in their finest clothing
drinking champagne and nibbling on canapes as they viewed the various lots on
exhibition.
One man, a tall African wearing an
immaculate suit, was walking round, talking to the guests and staff as they
answered questions. This was one of
their special theme evenings, and as he approached one young man he smiled and
said “is there something that catches your eye sir?”
“Indeed,” the flaxen haired man said as
he looked at the older blonde woman, “what is her story?”
“NO! You have this totally wrong – unpick and do
it right this time!”
The seamstress
groaned as Madame Clare threw the skirt down, and then stormed off, the other
workers looking at her.
“Do not worry –
she has never totally approved of anything we have done,” one of the others
whispered as she came over.
“But she is
meant to teach us, how can she teach us when she is like that?”
The others
nodded as one of the girls on the other side of the table said “she needs to be
taught a lesson – and I may be able to do that…”
Closing the
door to her office, Clare looked out over the machines and workbenches. She had spent thirty years building her
business, and nobody was going to tell her to change now. Her flaxen hair was cut into a long, flowing
style that fell over the shoulders of her taupe dress. The dress itself had a low cut square neckline
and short puffed sleeves, a variety of square and round buttons on the front,
and a short pleated skirt. Her outfit
was completed by a pair of knee length white boots with a silver leopard print,
and her brown glasses.
It did not
matter to her that her workers feared or despised her – she demanded quality,
and others expected quality from her.
That was the way it had always been, that was the way it always would
be.
The telephone
ringing caught her attention, but did not improve her temper as she walked over
to her desk.
“What?”
“My apologies,
Madame,” a male voice said, “but there is an issue in the loading bay, and I
regret to say it requires your immediate attention.”
“Wonderful –
another joy for the day… I will be right
there,” she said as she put the phone down, and her secretary came in.
“My apologies Madame
Clare – I need your signature on these documents so they can be dispatched
today.”
“Very well
then,” she said as she signed where the secretary indicated, not checking what
they were, “I will be in the loading bay dealing with another incompetent.”
“Of course,
Madame Clare,” the secretary said as she collected the documents, a smile on
her face as she watched her employer walk away.
“Very well
then, what is the issue,” Clare said as she came to the rear doors, one of her
workers standing with two other men, both dressed in black.
“My apologies,
Madame – these men are hare to collect a delivery, but the order has not been
completed yet.”
“Of all the –
what exactly are you here to collect, and for what company,” Clare said as she
took the clipboard from her employer, one of the two men moving behind her.
“We represent
Objects of Beauty,” the second man said with a smile.
“A new
customer? And what is it you have
ordered from us?”
“You.”
Clare stared at
the man as the damp, sweet smelling cloth was clamped over her nose and mouth,
and she inhaled in her attempt to screen, her vision immediately blurring as
she tried to pull the hand away. But her
arms were suddenly so heavy, her brain so fogged…
The two men
picked her up and deposited her in a laundry basket, placing it in the back of
their van before they drove off, the employee smiling as he closed the doors,
and went to the staff meeting.
“My fellow
workers,” he heard the secretary say as he came in, “Madame Clare has signed
the company over to our cooperative – let us celebrate a new dawn…”
He looked at Clare as she sat in front
of the sewing machine, screaming into the ball gag that filled her mouth as she
struggled in the ropes holding her body to the chair, her legs spread and tied
to the wooden front legs.
“A seamstress and an experienced woman,”
he said as he smiled at her, “I would most certainly be interested George…”
“Well, we welcome your bids,” the tall
African said as he moved on, stopping in front of a middle aged man who was
looking at a woman in her early sixties, but dressed much younger as she stared
back from the bed she was tied to.
“Ah yes – a special delivery,” George
said quietly as he looked at his iPad, “her husband wanted a change in life…”
“So this is
Cologne – why are we here,” Mavis said as she looked round.
“I was
stationed nearby in the Seventies – I always wanted to come back,” her husband
said as he looked out over the river.
Mavis shook her head as she gathered her long woollen shawl around
herself. Her greying blonde hair was cut
short, and she was wearing a black and grey checked dress, held by spaghetti
straps on her shoulders, dark tights and knee length black leather boots.
“Huh – not much
to look at really,” she said as she stared through her large dark sunglasses,
and then at her husband. “But you do
have to have your way – sometimes.”
“Sometimes,” he
said quietly as they walked along the walls of the castle, Mavis suddenly
sitting on the wall and putting one leg up, the skirt of her dress falling back
slightly to reveal her panties.
“What are you
doing Mavis?”
“Showing you
what you are never going to get,” she said with a cruel smile before she turned
and looked at him. “You really are
pathetic aren’t you?”
He stared back
at her, and said quietly “I am what you have made me, Mavis – and perhaps, just
perhaps, I need a change of more than just the scenery, the air.”
“Oh no – you’re
never getting rid of me,” Mavis said as she stood up and stared into his eyes,
before she turned and walked off, her husband walking a few steps behind as
they approached a café. Sitting at the
table outside, Mavis said “go in and get me a coffee.”
“If you
insist,” he said as he went in, Mavis looking along the square as a grey van
pulled up outside the café. She didn’t
pay it much attention, especially when a man and a woman got out of the side of
the van and walked towards her. It was
only when they grabbed her and frog marched her to the van that she suddenly
called out “hey – wha.,.”
He came out to
see the van door slam shut and the van drive off, before he put his coffee
down, and picked up the envelope that had been left on the table. Smiling, he put it into the inside pocket of
his jacket, and signalled to the waiter.
“A large whisky
to go with my coffee please…”
“WHTDHHUFHNNKUHRERDHNNNN!”
Mavis screamed
into the fabric of her shawl, which was now pulled between her teeth and tied
round her head, the ends down her back as she struggled in the ropes holding
her wrists and ankles together.
“You will see,”
the woman in black said quietly as they drove along…
“A drastic way to have a change in
life,” the man said as he looked at Mavis.
She was now wearing a black leather bustier dress, but still in her
tights and boots, spread eagled with a large leather panel covering her mouth.
“Indeed,” George said, “but a most
effective one. I will see you in the
auction later?”
“George, darling!”
“Contessa,” George said as the Italian
woman kissed him on both cheeks, “I have managed to fulfil your special
order. If you will follow me to the
private room?”
“Always darling,” she said as she walked
with him, her tight skirt rippling with each step as they went into a small
side room. “So you have found me a new
secretary?”
“And companion as well,” George said as
they looked at the older woman tied to the steel chair, staring back at them
over the white tape that covered her stuffed mouth.
“Katya, will
you come in and take a letter please,” the head of human resources said as he
passed her desk.
Katya nodded as
she picked up her pad and pen, and followed him into his private office. In her early fifties, she was still a
stunning beauty, her orange patterned shawl draped over her shoulders. She had chosen today to wear an autumnal
print mini dress with short sleeves, over a slightly longer black dress with
long sleeves, dark hose and mid-calf black leather boots. A gold necklace hung round her neck, and she
wore several rings – all gifts from the man she was now alone in the office
with.
“You wish me to
take a dictation sir,” she said with a smile as he locked the door.
“No – I wish
you to follow my orders,” he said with a smile as he opened a desk drawer,
Katya nodding as he took out a length of soft white rope, “and to do exactly
what I say, and then I will reward you?”
“As you say sir
– what do you want me to do?”
“Put the pad
and pen down, come here, and put your hands behind your back.”
Alexa nodded as
she complied – she loved their little games, and as he crossed her wrists and
started to bind them together, she let out a soft sigh of pleasure.
“Have I
displeased you sir?”
“No,” he said
quietly as he tied the ends off, Katya wriggling her fingers as he gently
kissed her neck, “anything but.” Taking
a longer length of rope from the desk, he doubled it over, and began to bind
her arms to her sides, making two bands that framed her chest as the material
of her outfit stretched over it. She
sighed as she felt his hands stroke and cares her chest while the ropes forced
it up and out, small thrills running through her as he tied the ropes off, and
then caressed her breasts in his hands.
“Sir, you do
not have to do this…”
“Oh but I do –
sit down,” he said quietly, Katya nodding as she sat and crossed her ankles,
watching as he took yet more rope and started to bind them together as
well. She loved the way he made her feel
helpless, and would do anything for him…
He smiled as
with more rope he secured her legs together, below her knees, and then stood,
leaning over as he gently kissed her lips while his hands continued to gently
massage her chest.
“I am yours
sir,” she whispered with a sigh, “I cannot stop you now?”
“I know – but I
need you to be quiet. Open your mouth.”
Katya nodded as
she saw him take from the drawer a pair of her own knickers, folding them as
she opened her mouth, tasting herself on her tongue as he pushed them in, and
then closing her lips together, smiling as he tore a strip from a roll of white
tape, and pressed it gently over her face, covering her mouth as it formed to
her contours.
“Are you happy
Katya, willing to do all for me?”
She slowly
nodded as he knelt down, putting his hand under her skirt as he wriggled round.
“I have a very
special surprise for you – but I want it to be a genuine surprise. Do you trust me?”
She nodded as
he stood and walked behind her, taking her shawl and folding it before he blindfolded
her. She was in total darkness, unable
to move more than wriggling, unable to speak clearly, wondering what was going
to come next.
What she did
not expect was for the door to open, and two people to lift her up, carrying
her as she struggled and tried to call for help. He watched as the two people in black carried
her to the service elevator, before h picked up the telephone.
“I’ve dealt
with the security leak, but I need a new PA…”
Katya looked at the blonde woman as he
came over, and stroked her cheek with her hand, feeling the soft leather and
sighing slightly.
“Excellent – an efficient
administrator,” she said as she glanced at George’s tablet, “and beautiful as
well. We are going to become very, very
good friends, aren’t we Katya?”
She looked into the clear blue eyes, and
slowly nodded as George made a note.
“So you will take her?”
“Oh yes – thank you,” the Contessa said
as George left and closed the door, one of his assistants coming over.
“George – I’ve had a request to hold lot
132 for a private bidder. Will you come
and talk to them?”
He nodded as he went to where a tall,
dark haired man was looking at a woman, tied to a St Andrew’s cross with a
black leather bit gag in her mouth. “You are interested Sir?”
“Indeed – but I understand from Ian this
is an unusual lot?”
George nodded as he said “let me give
you the bare details…”
“Thank you all
for coming, it has been so good to see you,” Linda said quietly as the last of
the guests at her birthday dinner left the restaurant. It had been a celebration of her fiftieth
birthday, and she had wanted all her friends to be there.
“The payment
for the dinner has been cleared, Madame,” the restaurant owner said as he held
her black leather jacket for her to put on.
She still had shoulder length brown hair, with a hint of grey, cut into
a design that framed her beautiful face.
For the dinner, she was wearing a black halter neck dress that barely
covered her private area, a large green floral arrangement pinned to her left chest. Natural coloured fishnet stockings covered
her legs, and her feet were in her favourite black slouch leather boots.
“Luigi, the
meal was excellent – thank you – for everything,” she said with a smile as she
kissed the owner, and then left, walking along the streets of Kensington as she
looked around. She had lived here since arriving
as a student at the age of eighteen, and it held so many happy memories for
her.
Arriving at her
flat, she let herself in, and turned the light on, pouring a glass of brandy
and sipping it as she slipped her jacket off, and looked round. She did not have much to represent her life –
and right then, she was glad.
The doorbell
ringing made her smile as she went out for a moment, returning with two women
dressed in black.
“Maria, thank
you for doing this,” Linda said quietly.
“I have to ask
again – are you sure you want to do this,” the blonde asked as the redhead put
a black bag on the table.
“I do – I just
need to sign these documents, confirming you will purchase the flat and all the
contents.” Linda picked up a pen and
signed the paperwork, the redhead witnessing as she sighed. “So – can we do this?”
“Exactly as you
stipulated,” Maria said as she opened the bag, and took out several lengths of
white rope. Linda took a deep breath and
nodded as the redhead took one length of rope, and started to bind her wrists
together behind her back, while Maria gathered the legal papers and put them
into a leather slipcase.
As her wrists
were secured together, Maria took a longer length of rope and tied it round
Linda’s waist, letting the ends fall to the ground before a hand came between
her legs. She gasped as the ropes were
pulled up, rubbing on her crotch before she felt the ropes around her arms at
her elbows as well.
“It feels –
different – nice,” she whispered as the rope were tied off, and then the
redhead knelt behind her, using more rope to secure her legs together above her
knees, but with a small gap between them.
She repeated this on Linda’s ankles, as Maria took a black sponge ball
from the bag and compressed it in her gloved hand.
“Once we have
done this, we take you to your new life.”
“I look forward
to it,” Linda whispered before the ball was pushed into her mouth, closing her
lips over it as they were covered in sticking plaster. She took one last look round her flat, saying
goodbye to her old life before she was made to hobble from the room, Maria
picking up the door keys and turning the lights off…
“So this is her choice,” the man said as
he looked at Linda.
“Indeed – and as such, she needs to have
approval as well before any reserved bids can be taken. It is important that her wishes are followed,
as she is the one who paid us,” George said as he looked at Linda. “Do you believe you could be happy with her?”
Linda looked at the older man and nodded
as both men smiled.
“Excellent – My Lord?”
As the dark haired man nodded, George
could hear a disturbance across the floor.
“Will you excuse me,” he said quietly as he walked off, approaching a tableau
of a front room. A small crowd was
watching the woman who lay on the couch, screaming muted insults at all of
them…
Sitting at the
bar, Su Lin sipped from her glass, and looked
around. She had been staying in the
hotel for three weeks now, while she worked at the local offices of her
company, but she had not really settled, or felt welcome.
She was in her
early forties, and normally impeccably dressed, but this evening she was
relaxed, her long black hair falling over the shoulders of her striped jumper,
the legs of her jeans tucked into long brown leather boots. But still, she did not feel as if she was
happy, or relaxed or…
“Hi – can I buy
you a drink?”
Su looked at the young man, wearing a
green gilet over a white jumper, jeans and shoes, and smiled as she said “you
think that line still works?”
“It’s not
really a line – I saw you sitting there alone, and thought you might like the
company.”
He smiled as
she looked at him, and then said “all right – Singapore Sling.”
“Manhattan –
are you from Singapore,” he said as he sat next to her.
“No –
Baltimore. So why are you here?”
“Oh on business
– looking for new talent,” he said with a smile. “I work for a – recruitment agency. You?”
“Tech support,”
Su said as she accepted the drink, and took a
sip. “So…”
“Dave – and
you?”
“Su Lin. So Dave,
what do you do to relax?”
“Oh I have some
hobbies,” he said with a smile as her phone went off. “Excuse me a minute,” she said quietly as she
turned her back, answering the call with a terse “what?
“It can wait
until the morning.
“IT CAN!” Ending the call, she turned round and said
“sorry about that,” as she took a sip from her glass. “So, what sort of talent are you looking to
recruit?”
Dave smiled as
he said “oh, people who are looking for, or need, a major change in their
lives. I offer a very unique way of
meeting their needs, and satisfying those of my clients.”
“Sounds
intriguing,” Su said as she took another drink, and
fluttered her eyelashes.
Then she
blinked again. “Must be extra gin in
this,” she said quietly as she took another sip, and blinked once more. “I feel…”
“As I said,”
Dave whispered as he stood up, and helped Su Lin to
get onto her feet, holding her up as she slumped slightly, “I offer unique opportunities
to change your life, and we’ve been watching you, Su
Lin – we wish to extend that offer to you.”
“Wha…”
“Hush – come
with me,” Dave said as they walked to the exit, “Objects of Beauty welcomes
you…”
“Smbddhdlmpmmmm!”
Su Lin struggled on the
couch, looking at the man and women in their finery as she tried to find some
give in the ropes around her arms, legs, ankles and wrists, the white tape
wrapped around her head holding a cloth inside her mouth.
George knelt next to her, put his large
hand on her arm to steady her, and whispered “your old life is over – relax,
and your new life with all the pleasures it can offer can begin now. One of these fine people will offer you that
opportunity – and it will be taken.”
“Hsdhntwhnttt…”
“I know you are scared, but be assured,
no harm will come to you – or I will personally see to it those responsible are
hurt.” George looked at Su Lin as she nodded, and then stood up.
“The auction will begin in thirty
minutes, ladies and gentlemen,” he said as he walked to the last stand. The blonde looked back at him, defiance in
her eyes as he said “and as for you, my dear Miss Evans, you are about to
discover the truth…”
Harriet Evans
put the phone down, and then looked at the notes she had made on the screen.
“Well?”
She looked up
at her editor and said “I think I have it.
Finding her notes on the Bristol case from a few years ago, I think I
have managed to piece everything together.”
She had worked
for the Special Investigations team for five years now, replacing one of their
reporters who had vanished without trace looking into the affairs of a business
that had recently bought and converted an old mansion house. Harriet’s straw blonde hair was cut into a
bob, and she was wearing a purple dress like a cheongsam, with a floral pattern
printed on it, and black lace sleeves.
Her legs were in a pair of over the knee black suede boots, the visible
part in black tights with a polka dot pattern.
“So you think
you are ready to publish?”
“I am – but I
want to run it past you first.”
Her editor
nodded as he said “all right – conference room, thirty minutes, and bring
everything.” He went into his office,
closing the door as he did so, and picked up the telephone…
“So what do you
think?”
The editor sat
back in the darkened room, as Harriet stood by the screen, the picture of her
former colleague on the screen.
“So you contend
the owners of the house are a high powered slave auction business, and when she
uncovered the truth, they kidnapped her and sold her at an auction?”
“Not quite –
her last notes said she was going to get entry into the house. I think she did so – and never got back out.”
The editor
looked at Harriet, and said “so what do you want to do?”
“Publish it,
expose them – and get her back.”
“I am afraid I
cannot allow you to do that.”
“Who said
that?” Harriet looked up as a tall,
powerfully built African man stepped out from the shadows at the back of the
room.
“I am George,
and I run Objects of Beauty,” he said quietly, “and I cannot allow this story
to be published.”
“Boss – what’s
going on?”
“I’m sorry
Harriet,” the editor said as he stood up, “I need to can this story.”
“And you.”
Harriet stared at
him, and then she felt the pinprick in her arm.
She looked at the dart, and then at her editor and George, before she
fell unconscious…
Harriet struggled in the tape that held
her arms to the wooden arms of the chair, her bare legs taped at the ankles and
knees, as George smiled at her.
“I hope you enjoy your new life – the auction
is about to begin, and you are the first lot…”
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