Marketable

All Rights Reserved ©

Chapter 5

5

Rea pulled the sundress over her head, smoothing it out as it fell, sticking slightly to the sweat that still covered her skin. She reached for the door then turned back to Jade, still lying immodestly on the bed. “There will be a trunk delivered to you shortly where you will find your new wardrobe. We will be traveling this afternoon to your new home. You are to dress in a short skirt and blouse. There is also a makeup kit in the trunk which you are to use with subtle and delicate color, nothing too harsh. Abby will be in to take you to the showers and help you with your makeup.”

She exited the door, shutting it behind her, and leaned on it closing her eyes. Jade was one of the special girls for her. She had made sure that Jade would be sent to the best house in Boston. The house was perhaps slightly stricter about drugs and clientele then others, but it protected the girls. They remained healthy, free of the many sexually transmitted diseases that would often put an abrupt end to a girl’s professional usefulness. She would do well there. She had no doubt that Jade would be in high demand of both the male and female clients.

She looked across the hall at the door marked 145. It was time to move from one pleasure to the next. She walked to the end of the hallway and stood in front of a panel lined with a row of toggle switches. Each switch was marked with a corresponding room number. With the flick of her finger she lifted the two that were labeled 144 and 145 which opened small vents between the rooms allowing sound to pass from one to the next. The fear of things to come was often more powerful than the actual training the girls would receive.

She walked down to room 145 and opened the door. This room was far different from the room Jade inhabited, having none of the comforts she was granted. Those comforts were earned and 145 had a long way to go before she earned any. The room’s walls were once white but were now stained and smeared with blood. The room was devoid of furniture having only a mat on the floor and a white sheet for a bed cover. Beneath the thin sheet she could hear a soft whimpering.

145 was either sixteen or seventeen, Rea wasn’t quite sure. When she found her in a Chicago crack house, the girl had no identification, no money, and little hope. She did “favors” for the local hoods to keep her drug addled mind in a state of euphoria but really was bringing her closer to hell. What she did have was a look, elfin like features, snow white hair and pale skin. Her eyes were blue like the deepest part of the Caribbean Sea, though surrounded by the darkest of circles, so black they looked like bruises. Her body was frail and abused with no muscle structure left to her bones. Rea gave the gang boss fifty dollars and told him she wanted to have a good time with her but never returned. It had taken nearly four weeks of detox with Abby giving her methadone to take off the edge, before the girl began to think straight.

“Good morning 145,” she said as she shut the door behind her. “Let’s have a look at you.”

“No, please,” whimpered 145 from beneath the sheet.

Rea was across the room in seconds and ripped the sheet revealing the naked shaking form of 145. “That was not a request,” she yelled as she grab the girl by her white dirty hair and hauled her to her feet. The girl yelped and tried to pull Rea’s hands from her hair but Rea slapped her hard across the face and tossed her up against the wall where she crumbled, sobbing to the ground. “I will not say this again. Stand up and let’s have a look at you!”

145 leaned over on all fours struggling to get her legs under her. She placed one hand on the wall and while leaning upon a second wall slowly stood. Her hands moved to cover her breast and pubic hairs. “Do not cover yourself!” barked Rea. “Abby tells me that you are still not eating properly.” She reached out and grabbed her two arms and pulled them straight out. “You are weak and nothing but bones still. You must eat and begin to build strength, do you hear me?”

145 just nodded quickly as a tear ran down her cheek.

“I will tell you this one last time,” she said as she pushed the girl hard against the wall. She drew her hand back and slapped her across the face. The girl crumbled again to the ground with a scream. “You will eat, you will hold down your food and you will begin to build some strength or I will put you in a pine box and burn you alive,” She reached down and grabbed the girl’s hair again and yanked it back so that she could see in the girl’s eyes. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” responded a weak voice.

“Do not forget how to address me!” she barked. “How are you to address me?”

“Mmmy Mistress,” she stuttered.

“Do not forget. If it were not for me you would be dead now. Rotting in some alley as food for the rats. I saved you, broke your addiction, and gave you a place to stay free of the nightly rapes that used to plague you night after night. You owe me your life and you will do what I demand or I will take it from you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my Mistress.”

“Very well. If you eat this week and gain some weight you will have clothes to wear by the weeks end. If not, then I will consider you a failure. I have no use for failures.”

Rea stepped from the room and turned to the room marked 144 and entered. The room was much like the other in size, devoid of all furnishings, with only a mat with a sheet on the floor. 144 was handcuffed to the wall on the opposite side of the room where the mat and sheet could be seen but not reached, a comfort to be earned.

She had been in the room for only a week brought from a homeless shelter in Pittsburgh. Her name did not exist, her past was unimportant to Rea, but she had spunk. “How are you 144?” She asked as she made her way to sit on the mat, a signal that she had comfort that 144 did not.

“Who the fuck are you? I have friends, you better let me go or when they find you, they’re going to release a shit storm that’s gonna fuck you up good,” 144 screamed at her pulling and straining on her cuffs as if she could rip them from the wall.

Rea stood up walked to 144 and backhanded her as hard as she could, sending 144 slamming against the wall, blood dripping from her swollen lip. 144 dropped to her knees her red hair cascading over her face, concealing her fair-skinned Italian features. She wore only panties and her voluptuous figure reminded Rea of old pictures of Sophia Loren, large hips and breasts but a slender torso. Her legs were long, as she stood five feet eight inches tall; Rea was sure there would be a great future for her if she could be broken.

“You have no friends, no family, no one cares if you live today or die today,” said Rea in a calm voice that belied the violence she intended to dish out. “You do not exist but to an attendant in a homeless shelter. You were a number there and you are a number here. You are 144 and your fate is what I decide it is.” She reached down and grabbed 144’s hair pulling it hard and ramming her head into the wall behind her. She grabbed her by the throat as 144 tried to lash out but the cuffs pinned her arms sufficiently from striking Rea. With her free hand Rea struck 144 hard in the gut driving out what little breath she had in her then squeezed harder on her throat as 144 gasped desperately for air.

“You have no hope of freedom, no hope of happiness, of painlessness, or of even seeing the sun shine again in the sky unless I grant it.” Rea let go of 144’s throat and she fell to all fours desperately gasping for air.

“I’d rather die you fucking bitch.”

Rea kicked her hard in the stomach causing 144 to drop and attempt to roll to her side but she was hindered by the chains attached to the wall. “Do you think you are the first? Let me tell you, there have been many that have been kept in our dungeon and all are now free. Either free to live a life we have chosen for them or free to let the worms devour them in our graveyard.” She let out another vicious kick to 144’s abdomen. “It makes little difference to me if you live or die,” a kick to the groin was given for emphasis.

Rea bent down, yanked on 144’s dirty red hair and placed her nose inches from 144’s bloodied face. “I will kill you if you do not obey. Your only purpose in life is to obey, obey, obey.”

Rea was not prepared for 144’s next action as she rammed her head forward with all her strength, straining against the chains and catching Rea above the forehead sending her reeling backwards until she sat solidly on the floor. Although she had an instant throbbing headache she leaned back and started to laugh nearly hysterically, 144 had spunk indeed. “You are a foolish little bitch, you most certainly will regret that,” Rea said gathering her composure.

“See, I can hurt you,” said 144 in almost a guttural snarl.

Rea stood and casually straightened out her dress. She turned slightly then drove her boot squarely into 144’s chest. “You have not yet known pain and despair. I promise you that soon you will know both, more than you thought possible. Remember, I am your only salvation. I am the only means of stopping the agony that you will encounter. The next time we meet you will beg for my forgiveness or I will take your life in such a manner that you will beg to die. Either way, you will beg for release and I am the only one who can free you.”

Rea knocked once hard on the door which immediately opened. A tall blonde, woman with blue eyes and a strong muscular build entered. “Jess, she is to be taught.” The woman only nodded then moved towards 144 as she slipped on rubber gloves that came to her elbows. As Rea left she heard the sounds of flesh being repeatedly struck and the screams of hatred and pain.

As Rea left the room Abby was just escorting Jade to the showers. “Be sure she is ready in two hours, Abby.”

“Yes Rea,” she said avoiding direct eye contact.

“145 is to eat. It is time for her to take and truly begin her journey but she is of no use to us if she cannot begin to gain her strength.”

“I understand Rea. I will do my best to see that she does as you wish.”

“Very well, and how is Mommy doing?”

“She is awake but restrained.”

“I will check on her before I leave. I should return in two days and will begin to work on her then. I am going to rest in the lounge until Jade is ready to leave. Please make sure that her trunk is in the Denali,” she ended as she made her way to the lounge to lie down for a bit on the cool leather couch.

Just as she finished removing her knee high boots her phone began to chime. She picked it up from the coffee table and checked the caller ID before answering. “Hello Carrick,” she said as a broad smile spread across her face.

“Rea, how did everything go?” asked Carrick with a clear Bostonian accent.

“Very well, just as we had planned. Amazing how trusting some people can be.”

“Her condition?”

“Abby just informed me that she is now awake but restrained. I will visit her before I leave for Dillon’s house with 143 who I have named Jade.”

“A very beautiful choice, Rea. Will she be available for tomorrow night?”

“Yes, and she will be magnificent for us. She will be the belle of the ball so they say.”

“Nicely done. How is your other project, the white haired girl?”

“Unfortunately it has been very slow going. The detox was more intense than anticipated so we may have to delay delivery.”

“She will be able to be delivered, Rea?”

“I am not sure but am hopeful.”

“Do your best, the fifty percent has been paid and pushing back delivery is bad business.”

“I will and understand, Carrick. How is my sister?”

“She is well and keeping an eye on things for the moment. Perhaps for another week or so then she can join you. We may have another high-end project in the works. I will send her to find the appropriate woman to meet our needs. I need you to pay as much attention to our latest acquisition as possible.”

“Very well but I would like to see her.”

“In good time, when her task is complete.”

“Will I see you tomorrow night?”

“I am afraid not. I have a previous commitment but we will all be together soon enough, my love. I will let Dillon know you will be arriving tonight and to be sure Jade’s room is prepared. Good night, my love.”

“Good night, Carrick.”

Rea hung up the phone and sighed. Carrick was the only man she had ever loved or, she believed, ever would. He had done many things for her over the years and the trust he had in her she earned daily. It was not a trust of faithfulness, for each took to bed who they wished. It was a trust of obedience and a commitment to provide for the needs of each other whatever they might be. Rea’s needs were many.


Continue Reading Next Chapter

About Us:

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered book publisher, offering an online community for talented authors and book lovers. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books you love the most based on crowd wisdom.