The Apartment - Part 13

[Carl Bradford]

Kinda hesitant/unsure about this one, but I assure you this *is* going somewhere!

======================================================

Jane walked across the HCI concourse toward the exit, mostly looking at her phone and trying to forget the lesbian threesome underway in the locker room she’d just left.

Once again she was startled: Will, the young blond slave handler she’d met with Cassie, appeared in front of her and held up both hands, causing Jane to stop.

“What?” Jane said.

“Jane O’Meara?” Will said. “You’re Cassie’s friend, right?”

Jane nodded and held up her phone. “I’m calling Cassie’s wife right now.”

“Okay, but we need to talk,” Will said. “There’s an empty office over here that will be quieter.”

In the quieter office, Jane hung up on Wanda’s voice mail, again, and texted her instead: Call me ASAP 911.

“Before you ask, I’m not stalking you, I was looking up Cassie’s old records to get her phone number when I saw that your card was pinged as on-premises,” Will said, “That’s how I knew you were here.”

“Okay,” Jane said, irritated, then instantly regretted it.

“Cassie is in some kind of trouble,” Will said. “Nobody I know has her current phone number, or even knows where she lives since she was freed, so I didn’t know how to contact anyone. She’s at the Crane Moon, and I think she might have just self-enslaved.”

————————————————————————

Jane put Wanda on her car’s speaker. “Sorry, hun,” Wanda said. “Had an emergency call, and I was up to my ass in water so I left the phone in the van. What’s going on?”

“I’m in the car, and I have you on speaker, next to me is Will, Cassie’s former co-worker,” Jane said.

“Hey Will,” Wanda said, “Cassie’s told me good things.”

“Hey Wanda,” Will said. “Cassie’s a sweetheart, I love her like a sister. Good to finally talk to you.”

“Tell her what you told me,” Jane said, negotiating a lane change at high speed, causing will to grab on to the passenger door handle to steady himself.

“I got a call from an old friend, someone who used to work with Cassie and me at HCI,” Will said. “She works at the Crane Moon now. She’d just started her shift and she swears she saw Cassie in a slave pen there. Yin tried to talk to her, but Cassie wouldn’t answer, she’s trying to find out more right now.”

“What on earth is a Moon Crane?” Wanda asked.

“Crane Moon,” Will corrected. “The name is supposed to sound Japanese but it makes no sense, it’s really just for show. It’s a boutique slave brothel and market over in Montrose, where the hipsters hang out, but it’s too expensive for hipsters - only well-off people go there. They don’t move a lot of product, I think they mostly do what they call ‘experiences’ for curious people who can’t or won’t buy a slave of their own.”

Wanda cursed.

“Wanda," Jane said, "I just this morning talked to someone else who told me about some strange behavior from Cassie. We’re afraid she might have done something she can’t undo.”

Wanda cursed again. “I had a feeling that something like this was coming. Okay, I got this Moon place on GPS now, and I’m headed that way.”

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Jane said through gritted teeth as she slipped between two semi-trucks into the outside lane. “I’ll call you as soon as I know something.”

“Assuming we make it there alive,” Will mumbled, bracing himself against the dash.

“Oh, put on your big-boy pants,” Jane said.

————————————————————————

Whoever designed the Crane Moon was clearly inspired by an Asian aesthetic; exactly which one was hard to say. Even someone as untravelled as Jane could see Japanese, Indonesian, Polynesian, Indian and various regional Chinese elements mixed together. But it worked, in the way that a smoothie worked after putting a bunch of stuff through a blender.

From the outside, it looked like a pagoda tower surrounded by a high wall, plopped down in a leafy, artsy Houston neighborhood.

Inside, the courtyards, the circular arches, the fountains, the dancing statuary, the low furniture, all looked to Jane like California New Age-y nonsense. At the same time she thought it smelled like money, especially when you considered the large number of astonishingly beautiful women wearing kimonos and saris and slave collars.

Jane didn’t have a lot of time to take it all in: they were met in the reception area by Yin, Will’s friend, an Asian-American girl with her black hair tied up in a bun, wearing a red-and-black cheongsam and a radio earpiece. Radio aside, Jane could guess that she was a staff member because while she was quite pretty, she wasn’t appearing-on-the-cover-of-Vogue beautiful like all of the collared women Jane had seen. Following a quick introduction, Yin took them into the much grubbier employee area - “backstage” as she called it.

“Yeah, I knew Cassie back in the day,” Yin said over her shoulder. “We weren’t, like, super close, but we were friends and she helped me get certified. I knew about the whole DUI thing and that she mitted and got married. That’s why I was so surprised to see her when I came in today. I asked her what was going on and she wouldn’t answer me, wouldn’t speak at all.”

“Do you have paper on her?” Will asked.

Yin shook her head. “I found that she checked in around an hour before my shift started. She’s down for a basic package, but  someone else paid for it, which could be a bad sign.”

Yin stopped at a desk to tap on a computer keyboard. “What’s the deal with this place anyway?” Will asked.

“Oh, it’s slave fantasy camp for well-off people,” Yin said, not looking up from the monitor.

“So, a brothel?” Jane asked.

“Not really, or at least not just a brothel,” Yin said. “We do rent slaves for use on-premises, but the majority of our clients bring their own slaves and just use the facilities. Some are owned, some are rented elsewhere, and some are free women who agree to it for their own reasons. We also do pre-paid shows for curious people, we call them ‘experiences’.”

“Why an Asian theme?” Jane pressed. “When I think of slavery–”

“You don’t think of Panda Express?” Yin said, looking up and smiling. “That’s the point. No cotton bales, no gladiators, no dungeons, no baggage - just a pleasant, culturally neutral atmosphere where people can get up to their shenanigans in comfort.” She straightened up, went over to a printer, peeled off two stickers with barcodes and pasted them onto plastic wristbands. “These will get you inside the restricted areas. Come on.”

Yin led them down a hallway past racks of clothes and shelves of headsets and whiteboards with schedules to a small door set inside a much larger, antique-looking door, like a wooden gate in a castle.

The door opened to a kind of courtyard surrounded by high brick walls. Much of the courtyard was covered in gravel with flagstone pathways emanating from other doors and covered walkways. The paths all led to the center, which was occupied by a series of low walls, none much higher than Jane’s waist.

Yin led them to a low wall on the far side, nearest the outer wall. When Jane approached the wall, she saw that it surrounded a round pit, like a well but bigger around, a hole dug about ten feet into the ground and lined with smoothly plastered concrete - so no finger- or toe-holds for climbing out. At the bottom of the pit was a nude woman wearing a collar and a harness made out of rope; she was short-chained by her collar to a ring mounted in the center of the pit’s floor, and her arms were tied behind her in wrists-to-elbows fashion.

But this woman had dark, disheveled hair, olive skin, and enormous breasts - she was clearly not Cassie.

“Oh, hey Celia,” Yin said. “I didn’t know you were in today. Did you just get here?”

The woman rolled over onto her back so that she could look up - Jane saw she had dark eyes and lips and was very pretty. “Hello Yin,” she said with some sort of accent (Italian? Jane guessed), “Yes, master is meeting a leddy here, she was in this pit so took her out and he put me here to wait.”

“Shit,” Yin said. “What kind of mood is he in?”

“He is excited,” Celia said, “And looking for someone to punish along with me. I think we are returning to his penthouse after he is introduced to her, and he stops by Shepherd’s for a custom whip they just completed for him.”

“I gotta go find them,” Yin interrupted. “Any idea where they went?”

“You know,” Celia said, smiling. “The same place he always goes, the quad.”

“Thanks Celia,” Yin said, then to Will and Jane, “Follow me.”

Jane took a last look at the woman at the bottom of the pit; she just smiled up at Jane.

————————————————————————

The trio moved quickly down a covered walkway to another door, then through another hallway to a door set in a round archway.

“We call it the quad because it sits at the junction of four little gardens,” Yin explained, “but also because none of us can say the traditional Chinese name for it, Siheyuan.”

“Not even you?” Will said, feigning astonishment.

“Fuck off man, I'm from Lubbock,” Yin laughed.

Opening the door they saw a wide stone pathway between two “Asian” gardens, and at the end of the path was a circular area covered in some sort of tile. At the center of the circle was a thick wooden post, ringed with iron hoops. Attached to a loop on one of the rings was a heavy chain, and the other end of that chain was attached to a weathered wooden board with a woman’s head on it.

Jane felt her heart leap into her throat before she realized that the board was like one of those old-timey stockades, like they have at a Renaissance Faire, with a hinge that allowed it to close around her neck. It was too small to include holes for her hands, so it acted like a really heavy wooden collar. Iron straps on either side of the board trapped her wrists.

As they got closer, Jane recognized Cassie kneeling next to the post. Her long blond hair was gathered in a braid that was wrapped around her head, and she was blindfolded with a red scarf. She was otherwise completely nude, and Jane felt a momentary pang of envy: Cassie was genuinely beautiful. Slender hips, a flat tummy that still managed to look soft, flawless skin, firm smallish breasts (maybe a B cup?) that complimented her graceful figure, small delicate nipples, well-cared-for finger and toenails, not a single hair anywhere below her neck.

“Cassie?” Will said as he edged closer. “Cassie, is that you?” Jane shot him a WTF? look before walking briskly up to Cassie and placing her hands around the chained woman’s.

“It’s Jane,” she said. “Are you alright?”

Cassie took a sharp breath before she grimaced, like a person caught doing something embarrassing.

“Jane? Oh, Jane, sweetie,” Cassie said quietly. “I’m so sorry you had to see me like this.”

“Seriously, are you alright?” Jane repeated. “What’s going on here?”

“I’m fine,” Cassie said. “I’m getting something I need, sort of like therapy.”

“What?” Jane asked. “What the hell are–”

“What are you all doing with my slave?” A male voice said from further down an adjacent pathway.

Jane looked up to see man walking toward them: white, tall, broad-shouldered, jeans and a dress shirt untucked, dark hair swept back…

It was Alex Montreal, the man she and Cassie and Leighton had seen tormenting female slaves at HCI.

————————————————————————

Yin and Will studied the contract on Montreal’s phone. “Celia was right,” Yin said. “She’s a leddy.”

“Guys,” Jane said, still kneeling with a now un-blindfolded Cassie, “the slaver jargon is killing me. What the hell is a leddy?”

“I think it’s from hip-hop,” Will said, “or maybe from the sneakerheads? Short for limited edition.”

“Meaning you only get one shot at it,” Yin added. “It’s a very short term slave contract, as short as a few hours but usually a little longer. All the ones I’ve ever seen were from an app.”

“Yes, that’s where this one is from,” Montreal said, sounding impatient. “And the clock is ticking. Are we done here?”

“It’s true,” Cassie said. “I found him on OwnMe. I agreed to twenty-four hours. We’re here because it’s a safe place to meet for the first time."

“Jesus, Cassie,” Jane said, trying to get the woman to look her in the eyes. “Why this asshole?”

“Hey!” Montreal exclaimed. “That was uncalled for.”

Jane ignored him, and said to Cassie: “You saw what he was like at the slave inspection.”

“That’s exactly why I want him. I know what I’m getting into, I think he will give me what I need,” Cassie said, her voice dropping almost to a whisper.

“What do you need, Cassie?” Jane asked, though she could pretty much guess the answer.

“I need to be a slave,” Cassie said, “I need to be used, treated like a thing, a piece of meat, forced to do degrading things, controlled, punished, humiliated…”

“Believe me, she’s going to get all that and more,” Montreal said. “And the longer we have to wait here, the more she’s going to suffer.”

Jane stood up, turning to face Montreal before she spoke to Will and Yin.

“Can we stop this?” Jane asked. “Can I take Cassie away from here?”

“It doesn’t sound like she wants to,” Yin said, “As much as I hate to say it, my hands are tied–”

“That can be arranged,” Montreal interrupted.

Yin made a yuck face. “Anyway, company policy won’t permit interfering in the actions of two consenting adults.”

“How about once they leave the property?” Jane asked.

“Well, from what I know of it,” Will said, “I think the legality of these short-term contracts is questionable, but if both parties are willing and not coerced then the cops won’t do anything - they’ll say it’s a civil matter and tell you to get a lawyer.”

“A dozen of which I keep on retainer, just a phone call away, sugar tits,” Montreal said, laughing.

“Fuck you,” Jane said.

“Be glad to,” Montreal retorted, “but only if you sign a contract first. Now if you all will excuse us–”

“You’re not taking my wife anywhere,” Wanda said.

————————————————————————

Wanda stalked up to the group, her fists clenching and unclenching. She was in her plumber’s uniform, the pant legs still damp, her hair pulled back in a pony tail.

“Wife?” Montreal said, sounding more annoyed than upset. He looked at Cassie. “You didn’t tell me you were married,” he said, touching a hand to his forehead, then to Wanda, “Look, I didn’t know–”

“Shut up,” Wanda said, going straight over to Cassie and kneeling down next to her.

Jane grinned. This was gonna be good.

“Can we have a little privacy?” Wanda said. Yin helped her unhook Cassie’s chain from the post. The married couple moved a short distance away and began to quietly talk.

While they murmured in the distance, the rest of the group stood in uneasy silence, unmoving, except for Jane who took out her phone and got the video function ready to record the ass-kicking of the year.

“For fuck’s sake,” Montreal said, mostly to himself, “What a pain in the ass.”

A few minutes (though it seemed like several hours) later, Wanda called for Jane.

Wanda was in one of the small gardens that made up the quad, sitting on a bench with Cassie kneeling in front of her. Cassie looked downcast, and Wanda looked grim; it was the worst Jane had ever seen her even-tempered friend.

“We’re going to go through with it,” Wanda said.

Before Jane could say What?! for the six-hundredth time today, Wanda continued: “She needs this, worse than I thought. I’ve been talking with her sponsor and her therapist and we all suspected this was coming, but I didn’t think it would happen this soon, or like this.”

“Why?” Jane asked.

Wanda sighed. “It’s complicated. I’ll give you all the details later, for now I need you to do me a favor. Take this and keep it safe.” Wanda reached behind her back and pulled out a short-barreled revolver, giving it to Jane. Jane weighed it in her hand; it was heavy and chunky and looked like it could punch a hole through a Volkswagen lengthwise; she stuffed it under her hoodie and into the waistband of her yoga pants, hoping the elastic was strong enough to support it.

“I’m about to take the love of my life and hand her over to a man with more money than sense so he can spend tonight and tomorrow beating and humiliating her," Wanda said, shaking her head. "I don’t need to be tempted.”

“Are you sure?” Jane asked, placing a hand on Wanda’s arm. “Because I really, really want to see that guy get his ass beaten. I was gonna yell Worldstar and everything.”

Wanda snorted. “Goddamnit,” she chuckled. “I love you, Janey.”

“I love you too,” Jane said, and returned to the group.

A few minutes after Jane returned to the group, Wanda appeared with Cassie in tow, leading her by the chain on her stockade.

“Alright,” Wanda said. “We’re gonna honor the contract. I know what’s in it now, and you have until this time tomorrow. I’ve already taken photos of her, just so you know. You still want to go through with this?”

Montreal looked at Wanda, gauging her like only a rich tech-business asshole can. His face hardened.

“No deal,” Montreal said, arms crossing over his chest. “Sure, she’s a hot piece of ass, slave trained too. Her skin is so smooth and soft and unblemished, I was really looking forward to trying out a brand-new custom whip I just had made, marking her up good, make her beg for every single stroke and thank me afterward.” He shrugged. “But now? I don’t want to get into any trouble, and I sure as hell don’t want an angry spouse after me.”

Wanda looked at Montreal, sizing him up like only a woman used to dealing with rich, cheap assholes can. “What do you want?” she asked.

“I want the contract extended to 72 hours,” Montreal said. “And I want it altered to a no-limits contract.”

Wanda looked back over her shoulder at Cassie. Cassie raised her eyes and looked at Wanda: something unspoken passed between them.

“48 hours, and no permanent harm,” Wanda said.

Montreal thought for a moment, running his fingers through his thick hair. “Okay,” he said, half lost in thought, and took out his phone.

“One more thing,” Montreal said. “I get both of you.”

“Fuck you,” Wanda said, her fists clenching again.

“That’s the idea,” Montreal said. “But I see you’re not as dedicated to your wife as you like to let on.” He nodded at Cassie. “Too bad, she really seems like she needs it. Oh, well.”

Wanda gave one last glance back at Cassie.

Please please please Wanda, Jane thought, break his fucking jaw with a roundhouse kick–

“What,” Wanda said slowly, “are your terms?”

Montreal looked her straight in the eyes, his voice calm and steady. “You sign the same contract as her, and I return you here in forty-eight hours with no permanent harm as defined by law. But during that time you are both legal slaves, and must act as defined by law."

“One stipulation,” Wanda said, eyes staring straight back at him. "I have to be in her physical presence at all times.”

“Are you two really married?” Montreal asked.

Wanda started to answer: “Ye-”

“I want to hear it from her,” Montreal interrupted.

“Yes, sir,” Cassie said.

“Where’s your ring?” he asked.

“I took it off, sir,” she said quietly.

“So you deceived me. You know you’ll have to be punished for that?”

“Yes, sir,” Cassie whispered.

“Okay, you’ve got a deal,” Montreal said to Wanda, and tapped on his phone. Wanda pulled a phone out of her pocket and had Cassie unlock it with her thumbprint. It vibrated, Wanda tapped it a few times, spent some time reading silently, tapped on it again. Then she pulled her own phone out of a zippered pocket on her work pants and spent time tapping on it as well.

“Done,” she said.

“Not yet,” Montreal said. “You,” he turned to Yin. “Get me a basic setup and bring it here."

Yin trotted briskly toward a door at the end of a path. Jane went up to Wanda and grabbed her upper arm, whispering in her ear: “You don’t have to do this, you know I’ll back you up–”

“I know, sweetie,” Wanda said quietly, “I’ll explain later. Can you get my van back to the shop? I don’t want to leave it here overnight. Tempting.”

Jane nodded. “Thanks,” Wanda said, and squeezed Jane’s hand.

Yin returned, clanking, and set a pile of chains and restraints on the ground next to Montreal.

“Don’t give them to me, idiot,” Montreal spat, annoyed. “Give them to butch over there.”

Before Yin could act, Wanda eased Jane’s hand off her arm, walked over to Montreal and stood next to the pile.

“Strip,” he said.

Wanda looked him in the eye, then knelt and unlaced her boots. After her socks came off, she unbuckled her belt and slid her pants off to reveal her fit, muscular legs.

Montreal wolf-whistled. Wanda didn’t so much as flinch.

Wanda unbuttoned her work shirt, neither quickly nor slowly, but probably like she did every day after work. She removed it, folded it neatly, and set it down on top of her pants, leaving her standing in a set of ordinary gray panties and a sports bra. Jane had never seen this much of Wanda’s body: she was impressed by her toned arms and her strong, flat midsection, and her larger-than-expected breasts.

She pulled the bra off over her head, dropped it on the clothing pile, and Jane got to see her best friend’s tits: they were bigger than Jane expected and looked great: they lay hanging against her chest, drooping slightly from their weight, with large aureolas and small, flat nipples.

Then in a brisk, matter-of-fact motion, Wanda pulled her panties down and off. Jane was surprised to see that Wanda shaved but not completely, having a neat landing strip.

Wanda stood there a moment, completely naked, hands on hips, as Montreal drank her in. Wanda acted as cool as a cucumber in a cooler in Canada, but Jane could see a red flush building up on her neck and chest.

She must be humiliated, Jane thought. I know I would be… but would that be completely bad? Can I do like in Hunger Games and volunteer to take Wanda’s place? Jane shook her head to clear out her mind. Can’t start fantasizing with Wanda going through this traumatic experience right here in front of me.

Jane blinked quickly; I’ll save the fantasizing for later.

“Damn,” he said, “For a bull dyke you look pretty good. I’m gonna enjoy teaching you to take dick. Now cuff yourself.”

Wanda picked up a set of handcuffs, turned away from Montreal, and put her hands behind her back. A moment’s fumbling and everyone heard the telltale ratcheting sound of cuffs closing.

“Pick up the collar and give it to me,” Montreal said. Wanda stooped and felt around in the pile.

“Like a slave, butch,” Montreal growled.

Wanda looked over her should at him, then sank to her knees. She leaned forward and picked up the metal collar in her teeth, then shuffled over to Montreal and presented it to him like a dog with a bone.

Montreal nodded. “Well, well, well, look who’s a fast learner.” He took the collar out of her mouth, and motioned for her to stand.

“Now turn and look at your wife. You, blondie,” Montreal said to Cassie, “Look her in the eyes right now.”

Cassie raised her head and locked eyes with Wanda. Wanda stood perfectly still as Montreal slipped the slave collar around Wanda’s neck and locked it closed. Wanda continued to look at Cassie, and Jane thought she could see a faint smile cross her lips.

Dear God, why is this turning me on? Jane thought.

Moving around behind Wanda, Montreal grabbed her collar in one hand and took one of her breasts in the other. He kneaded it roughly, making Jane wince, but she only noticed Wanda’s jaw tighten. He released her collar and took a nipple in each hand, stretching them straight out from her chest then releasing them like rubber bands. Cassie watched, a pleading look on her face.

Montreal reached lower and cupped Wanda’s vagina with his right hand. “No man’s land, am I right?” he said, laughing at his own joke. “Not for long, lesbo. And you better be enthusiastic about it, if you know what’s good for her.”

“You,” Montreal said to Yin. “Take that wooden thing off of blondie. Collar, leash and full cuffs for both. Don’t keep me waiting.”

Yin replaced Cassie’s stockade with a collar and handcuffs, locked a large set of handcuffs (the same type as Jane found in the bag in the apartment) around each woman’s ankles, and attached chain leashes to their collars.

Montreal gathered their leashes into his hands and pulled until they were standing side-by-side in front of him. “I’m glad this worked out,” he said. “Aren’t you glad this worked out? I think both of you should show me how glad you are. Don’t look at me like that, butch,” he said to Wanda when she arched an eyebrow. “Your little wifie knows what I mean. Don’t you, blondie?”

Cassie lowered her eyes. “Yes, sir,” she said.

“Sir,” Yin said, “I feel that I should remind you that no sex is permitted in public–”

“Shut up, dummy,” Montreal said without looking at her. “Lemme clue you in, dykie: I have two feet, and there are two of you. Now get on your knees.”

Both women knelt, shuffled forward, and leaned forward until their heads were positioned over the toes of Montreal’s shoes. Cassie immediately kissed the toe, then began swirling her tongue over the expensive leather. Wanda hesitated for a moment, glanced at what Cassie was doing, then did the same. Jane could see that her face was turning red; I can only imagine what she’s going through, Jane thought.

Jesus can I imagine, she thought.

“That’s enough. Spread your knees, you two,” Montreal said. “Goddamnit, what a day to leave my prod in the car,” he murmured.

Jane watched as the women spread their knees, and Montreal bent down and pulled apart their cheeks so he could see their assholes. Wanda’s was dark, Cassie’s pink, and both were hairless.

Can’t unsee that, Jane thought. But damn, being totally submissive in front of a bastard like that, displaying my most private things–

“I’m really gonna enjoy breaking in these tight little sphincters,” Montreal said, and gave a sharp simultaneous slap on their backsides and raised back up.

“Okay Mrs. Hall Monitor, I want both of them ball gagged,” Montreal said. “Chop chop.”

Yin rapidly and expertly gagged them both. Cassie obediently opened her mouth at just the right moment like the experienced slave she was, Wanda held her mouth open the whole time like she was at the dentist.

“Alright,” Montreal said to Yin. “Go get my big-mouthed slut out of that pit and touch her up, I think twenty will do, then mark her as free-use for the next two days. In fact, put her on the blowjob machine. Hell, put the machine right out front with a “Free” sign around her neck. Make sure she sucks as much dick as possible, I don’t care if she gets any sleep, I want her unable to speak when I come back to pick her up.”

“Yes, sir,” Yin replied. “Are you not staying?”

“No, I’m taking these two to go,” he replied, smiling. “Now that I’ve got forty-eight hours with a married slave couple, I’ve got time to call some friends and set up a party. An informal gathering you understand, nothing too fancy, cocktails and hors d’oeuvres and lots and lots of dick. Very demanding, exacting connoisseurs who own those dicks, so you two will need to be on top of your game.”

“Oh, I forgot: one of you is strictly a carpet muncher, right?” Montreal laughed, looking down at Wanda. “That’s too bad. I foresee many sessions in the correction room for you. Now get on your feet and c’mon.”

Montreal jerked the leashes and led Cassie and Wanda down the path toward the front of the building, padding along on their bare feet. He’s going to lead them right out through the front lobby, Jane realized, in front of everyone. Wanda bore it stoically but Cassie glanced back at Jane, a worried look in her eyes, as they disappeared through an ornate lacquered door.

[Jim927]

Another great chapter. I will be very interested in seeing where you are going with this. I am not really sure but trust you when you assure us that you know where it is going.
Jim

[Mr. Smith]

Another great chapter. The introduction of the OwnMe app and the short term Limited Edition "leddy" enslavement of questionable legality was a wonderful addition. I still have no clue as to where we will end up at the end of the story with so many interesting detours along the way.

[Belinda]

Awesome chapter dear love how you are leading us readers into the unknown. Fabulous work.

[Belinda]

Awesome chapter dear love how you are leading us readers into the unknown. Fabulous work.