Tuesday, May 12, 2009

The Latest Acquisition

It was a hot day, I had just the hint of perspiration on my forehead as I walked across the barren sand towards Ma’am, the bank draft in my hands. “Ma’am,” I said, “just the person I was hoping to see.”

“You are happy to se me?” asked Ma’am, “why so?”

I handed her the bank draft, confirming a transfer of funds; “Well, I’m always happy to see you, but I have this for you, to confirm the transfer of funds as discussed.”

By now the people around had started paying attention. A quiet hush fell over the common gathering area, where people sit, and talk and decide what they want to do with which slave that day. People and slaves leaned in, listening, as the Ma’am unfolded the paper and read it carefully. “Ah, yes, I recall. We spoke about it. So you really paid the agreed amount.” She said, more of a statement than a surprise, as if for some reason, she thought either I could not acquire the funds, or I would have second thoughts.

“Of course, and I still believe I got the better end of the deal” I replied, looking over to the slave I had grown so fond of these past few months, as it kneeled there in the sand, its arms behind its back, its legs spread wide, the slave petals glistening in the sun from its near constant state of arousal.

Ma’am held the paper to the light, checking for proper watermarks. “I hope you did not fake the wire transfer,” she said smiling innocently “but I think, guess, hope – I can trust here – if not, I will reclaim the goods.”

I blinked, and tried to look aghast; “Fake it? I’m almost offended at the thought.”

“Aren’t there bankers around that can check for the validity – it is a large sum, Ma’am, whatever it maybe for.” the slave had injected itself into the conversation. We continued on, ignoring it, as if it had not spoken.

“Yes,” Ma’am said, “I would be too, but aren’t we where we are because we know who we are?” She asked.

Even though we had the rapt attention of the entire crowd, the slave did not falter on its greetings to Mistresses, Masters and others who were arriving. I chuckled, “true Ma’am, very true” I responded.

One of Ma’am’s personals craned her neck around Ma’am to catch a look at the paper, and muttered something, I could not understand it, nor could I tell if it was impressed with the sum, or nonchalant about it.

“However,” she continued, “you know this item has some marks, some scratches and so on? You buy this item as seen.” More people are gathering around the transaction, curious to know what is going on. “…and I do not want to mention the, well, uhm, mileage.”

“I understand completely, nothing a little plastic surgery cannot fix.” I said, catching the slave from the corner of my eye, kneeling, quivering slightly in the sand. So full of lust, always so ready to please.

“Well, so be it, but again, here all of you can witness it, a refund is not an option.” Ma’am said as if it were the final word on anything and everything. “girls” she said addressing her personal slaves “you are my witnesses. I told her.” The statement was followed by a round of “yes Ma’am” from her girls.

The slave, who is kept next to a post, near the center of the gathering area, attached by a chain from its clit ring to the post – scooted as close to the conversation as the chain would allow, wincing a little as the chain pulled on its clit ring.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be seeking a refund,” I said.

One of Ma’ams slave girls piped up “you gave her plenty of warning.”

“Has there been a test drive, I hope?” another of Ma’ams girls asked.

“What it cannot do now, it can be trained to do.” I said with confidence, “I’ve seen its ability to learn.”

At this, Ma’am smiled and opened her pouch, she took out a set of keys on a ring, selected one key from the rest and handed them to me, “here, this should be the one for the collar, the others are for the cuffs and what not”

I took the keys, and bounced them in my hands a few times, smiling “thank you.” I said with a little nod.

Ma’am smiled at me, then looked to the slave chained to the post “well, I just sold you.”

One of the other Mistresses there smiled and nodded “yes, it does learn well…sometimes that is.”

“Say hello to your new owner” Ma’am said, addressing the slave – “Mistress Dagger that is.”

The slave blushed, and looked almost hurt “you sold this slave, Ma’am? To Mistress Dagger?” It asked “the slave hopes it did not displease you, Ma’am.”

“Mhm…you know how that is, we all have to earn a living, and food costs, expenses etc. The curse of capitalism, and theses bankers…” her voice trailed off before she went into another tirade against bankers, and capitalism in general.

One of the visiting slaves giggled, covering her mouth “oooh, it was the slave being sold!” she exclaimed.

The slave, my new property, smiled up at me, its face alight with joy, and shuffled closer, wrapping its arms around my legs.

“I wish you both a prosperous future,” Ma’am said.

“Thank you again Ma’am,” I said, running my fingers through my property’s hair, “for such a great deal.” The slave at my feet, leaned down and began kissing my sandy toes, tears streaming down its face.

“So, the slave will leave the Den?” One of the Mistresses asked. “Congratulations Dags!” exclaimed another, clapping with excitement.

“So, if you want, you can rent of course a slave kennel, if it needs a rug to sleep on.” Ma’am said grinning as the slave scooted away from my feet, towards Ma’ams feet, and kissed each of her feet, before returning to its new owner.

“Thank you, Ma’am, but I have a house.”

With that, on 29 April, I acquired my latest piece of property. The slave had caught my eye some months before. A near perfect specimen. It had a body that seemed to be built for sexual slavery.

We had not discussed my owning it, except once, shortly after I came across it. At that time, I had told it I would not own it. That I would not claim it as mine. As they say, the best laid plans of mice and men…. It did not know I was going to take it as my own. it did not know I had worked out with the owner of the sim to claim it as mine. It was sold to me, so much like the piece of slave meat property that it is. I own it, its body, its mind, its soul…its future. All of these things belong to me. They exist for my enjoyment. For my pleasure.

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