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The tables are round and shared by two couples. The table tops can turn and has restraints for our arms and legs so we can be displayed to the guests.

There is an assortment of whips, canes, crops and paddles against the walls for the guests to use on the slaves.

“Your slave, Mistress,” Sven says and I know to drop to my knee.

“Thank you, Sven-dear,” Mistress Westbrook purrs and then I see her red high heels step into my line of sight. Her hand comes to rest on my head and then she pats me, as if I’m a dog.

“I wish Cameron would sell this slave to me. There is so much I’d like to do with him.”

While my head is down I quickly suck in a few breaths of air.

“Get on the table, Slave,” she commands.

As I obey, the music changes to something slow and sad. Cameron does this so the winners will take the slaves they’ve won to the rooms designated for them. As far as I know Cameron never takes part himself. This is all about the business for him. He proved that money flows through his veins the day he sold my momma, his own wife, to the highest bidder. That man beat her to death.

I settle down on the table and then I feel Mistress Westbrook’s hands at the button of my jeans. She never straps me down like the other slaves are strapped down. She likes to test me, to see if I’ll snap and try to defend myself. I stare up at the ceiling and keep still.

She yanks the jeans down baring me to the room. She only pulls the jeans down to my thighs, not bothering to take them off all the way. I’ve been whipped, flogged and caned by this woman. She has left bite marks on most of my body. I’ve learned to expect anything from her.

She takes hold of my lifeless cock. She hates that I don’t get hard for her. She hates it even more that only medication can make me hard.

I feel rubber bands being slipped over the length of me, one at the base of my cock and the other right underneath the head.

“I got you a present, Slave,” she purrs as she strokes me. Her grip tightens when I don’t get hard. It takes the medicine longer and longer to work, every time. I can’t wait for the day that nothing will work to make me hard. “Tonight you will get hard for me!”

An electric charge shoots from the one band to the other, pulsating through my cock. My whole body tenses as the pulse sizzles all the way to my groin. I wish I was tied down, at least then I’d have something to hold on to.

“See how hard you’re getting for me now,” Mistress Westbrook purrs. When I keep my eyes on the ceiling she snaps, “Look at your hard cock!” My eyes leave the spot on the ceiling and I let them travel down my chest, past my abs to where my cock is standing rock hard. I hate that she managed to get me hard. I feel degraded as she strokes me a couple of times and then another electric charge shoots from the one band to the other, this time stronger. It makes my cock throb and I fall back onto the table with a thud. The electric pulses come faster and stronger, and I clamp my teeth together so I won’t orgasm for her.

She’s had my blood but never my orgasms.

Just as I’m about to explode I hear a soft voice, “I believe the thirty minutes are up. The slave is mine now.”

“This is ridiculous!” Mistress Westbrook cries. “I’m sure you can wait another ten minutes!”

This time the voice has a bite to it. “No, I paid for every minute and I intend to enjoy every minute.”

I feel a small hand rest on my shoulder. “Get up and take that thing off, then follow me.” I shoot up and almost yank the electrosex bands from my cock, which is still throbbing something fierce.

I pull my jeans over my sensitive cock and only zip it up. I’m in such a hurry to get away from Mistress Westbrook that I don’t even bother with the button.

I slip from the table and stand on shaky legs. Mistress Westbrook comes to stand in front of me. Her face is tight and caked with make-up which only makes her look older. “I’ll see you next week, Slave.”

A cool hand slips into mine, making my eyes jump to the other woman. I’m shocked to see that it’s Mistress Ryland. “Not if I have any say.” Mistress Ryland lets her eyes travel over Mistress Westbrook with a clear look of disdain. “You enjoy your evening now.”

She tugs my hand lightly and I start to follow her out of the room. Never has a mistress held my hand.

I steal glances at her as we walk to the room assigned for us. She only reaches my shoulder, and has a petite build. Her brown hair shimmers in the electric lights. She’s quite beautiful to look at. I’m not used to having a beautiful mistress. I actually prefer them ugly it’s easier to switch off then.

There’s something about her that’s different than all the other mistresses. She has a confidence that shows with every step she takes. She doesn’t have that cruel or lust filled gleam in her eyes that the others normally have when they look at me. I’ve never seen someone like her and I’m not sure how to handle that.

She leads me into a room and locks the door behind us. I wonder what she’s into, how she expects me to please her.

She stands with her back to me when she whispers, “Please go take a shower and wash that women’s touch from your body.”

I don’t reply. We are only to talk when asked a direct question. I go into the bathroom and strip out of the jeans. I’m thankful that she’s allowing me this moment. I need it so I can regain my composure.

~*~

Chapter Two

River~

My boobs are shoved up, creating a cleavage I didn’t think I’d ever be capable of showing, and the leather skirt is way shorter than I’m comfortable with. It feels as if my ass is hanging out for all the world to see. But this is what we need to wear to get into the party.

Cameron Hawkins loves his leather and lace parties and there is just no way in hell I’m wearing lace. It took me a year to get this invitation from him. I’ve heard over and over that he has the biggest collection of slaves, and I hope to make a dent in it.

Adam comes out of the bathroom. Dressed in his leather pants he looks very attractive. We’ve become very good at playing our part as a young married couple who loves to dabble in the taboo. Only two other people know that Adam isn’t my husband, but actually the head of my security team. I trust him with my life.

Miss Ella and Tristan keep watch over the plantation, while Adam and I go out looking for slaves.

After Father died I sold everything. The first thing I did was hire Adam. He helped me create
The Sanctuary
- the perfect healing place. The plantation has become a place where people can heal and find themselves.

He brought his grandmother, Miss Ella, in to help take care of the people we rescue. Miss Ella has become the glue that keeps us all together. Tristan joined us a few years back and Adam trained him as his second-in-charge. There are six more men that work under Tristan. They’ve been hired to protect the sanctuary. I pay my staff well, hoping they will never turn on me. Together Adam and I have created the perfect healing place for damaged souls.

Father must be cursing me from the pits of hell. Every dollar he made from the sex trade is being used to rescue slaves. I’ve made it my job. I have to make up for the devastation Father created with his greed and malicious ways.

The slaves I buy can either choose to remain on the plantation and do an honest job, or go their own way. I’ve been in the business of buying slaves for nine years now. We manage to buy two slaves a year, sometimes we’re lucky and we can get three or four, but more than that would draw attention to our operation. Out of the twenty eight we have managed to buy, thirteen have chosen to stay on with us. Those who have made The Sanctuary their home get along well. We don’t tolerate trouble. If someone places The Sanctuary at risk then Adam and Tristan take care of them. Once you decide to stay at The Sanctuary there is no option of leaving. We can’t risk placing the others at risk if one suddenly decided to leave.

Because of the people now working the farmland it’s turned the plantation into a successful venture. We all live peacefully together, a little community tucked away on the plantation. We grow our own fruits and vegetables, and we’ve got some livestock as well, that way we don’t have to go into town that often.

I’m good at what I do. I act out the part of Mistress Ryland. It’s not hard to play the roll of a conniving bitch when you know that at the end of it all you get to save someone’s life. We choose slaves who aren’t broken beyond repair, those who have a chance to become a part of society again. It’s sad, but there are those who are too far gone.

You learn to look past all the darkness and to just focus on those two or more rays of light – if we walk away from the party with just one slave, then it’s one life more we got away from those deprived demons who dare to call themselves humans.

Adam comes to stand in front of me and he tilts his head slightly, giving me that intense look I’ve grown quite fond of. He’s checking to see if I’m okay to walk into the ‘party’. He’s become more than just the head of security to me. He’s become my best friend.

I meet his grey eyes. It’s quite intimidating looking into them. There is nothing you can hide from this man. That’s why I chose him. A man with his skills and background is hard to come by and I’m thankful for him.

“I’m ready,” I whisper. Most parties we attend have cameras in the rooms and this party is no different. Adam found two cameras in our room, one in the bathroom mirror and one in the portrait hanging on the wall opposite from the bed. You’re always being watched, no matter where you go. We have to be so careful. I smile at Adam, letting him know that I’m really okay.

“I like the male slave,” I purr. I’ve met so many bitches in my thirty-two years on this planet that I’ve had plenty of training from them.

“I’m sure you do,” Adam smirks. “Who will you choose as his partner?”

I’ve fabricated a sick fascination where I choose slaves who would fit in with my collection, like a doll collection. The owners fall for it and that’s all that matters. It’s a good front should someone stumble on The Sanctuary … which I hope to God will never happen! We have the best security and The Sanctuary is in Miss Ella’s name, that way none of the paperwork can be traced back to me.

I sigh heavily and pretend to think about the question Adam just asked me. I reach out and trail a finger down his chest. “How about…” I lean in and kiss the corner of his mouth, “…you choose. You always let me have the pick of the litter. You can choose who you think will be a great addition to my collection.”

“Anything for you, Darling.”

He takes my hand and together we leave the room to attend the party. With every step we take closer to the ballroom where the party is being hosted, the more my insides tighten. It’s hard to attend these
things
. It’s hard to watch men and women, sometimes even children, being raped and assaulted. I wish I could rid the world of the scum! I wish every one of the people that are here to find pleasure in another’s suffering will burn an agonizing death.

I take a deep breath as we reach the guarded door. A beefy man opens the door, his bald head gleams under the lights. I wonder why people always think that the bigger the man the stronger he is. Adam is tall, lean and his muscles are firm. I know for a fact he’s stronger than any of these gorillas. I’ve seen him take a few down once and he made it look so easy.

As we walk through the doors a girl comes to us. I’d guess her to be in her late teens. She keeps her head down, the way all the slaves do. That’s one of the hardest things to get out of their systems. It takes months before they’ll dare to look at you. I shove the thought away as we follow her to the table reserved for us.

I’ve been to many parties and I’ve seen many things, but the tables are new to me. They’re round with straps. I suppose the straps are to tie the slaves down.

Adam pulls the chair out for me and I’m careful sitting down with the damn short skirt. As Adam takes his seat next to me, I let my eyes wander through the room. Assorted whips, canes, paddles and floggers decorate the walls. The room is quite large. I can count eight tables. If all four seats are taken then that means there will be thirty two people in attendance.

More people start to arrive, all dressed in either leather or lace. Some of the outfits don’t cover much. People who attend these parties are all perverted monsters.

Soon we are joined by an elderly couple. The woman slants her eyes at me, giving me a smug look. Her bright red lips are in stark contrast with her white powdered face. She looks hideous in the lace negligee, and high heels. She’s also been in one tan bed too many. Her skin looks leathery and her boobs and ass have lost the battle against gravity. I feel a wave of nausea hit from just looking at her.

The man doesn’t look much better, dressed in leather pants that are way too tight. His chest is covered with gray hair and he’s sporting a belly that’s making my stomach churn even more. This is definitely a couple I’d like to stay away from.

I take in the people as they enter the room. They are all vile creatures and I struggle to swallow my contempt down.

When most of the seats are filled, Cameron comes in with his three guards following behind him.

“Evening friends,” he bows slightly and I have to concentrate to force a smile on my face. “I’m honored to have you all here. The slaves will join us soon. I have a large collection,” he boasts, “of the finest ass and pussy you’ll ever find. Thirty-five slaves will parade for you, so you can get a sample before the bidding starts. There will be a female to my left and a male to my right, they are not to be sampled. Bidding for them will open as soon as they join us later tonight, and as always, the highest bidder will get them for the evening.”

My tongue feels thick and I swallow hard. I might be good at this, but Lord, every party makes me age a hundred years.

Cameron claps his hands once and the doors open behind him. Girl after naked girl enters the room. They are all collared and every collar has a number engraved on it. I wish I could take them all … right now!