Disclaimer: I'm not USA or whoever else, so I don't claim to own them.
Warnings: Sexual Content; Slavery
Word Count: 2,539 of 7,127
Written For: sinfulslasher's January 2013 prompt
Summary: It was only supposed to last a week, but a fantasy should last a lifetime.
Chapter 01: Elizabeth Burke - Event Planner
Technically, Elizabeth was working the event. However, June had extended an invitation for her to bid on the items being offered if she saw something that caught her fancy. Seeing the first half of the auction had consisted of scantily clad slave girls, she wasn't holding out much hope. Instead, she planned to donate a portion of her pay for the event back to the charity in question.
She positioned herself toward the back of the room and watched with mild humor as overweight businessman held bidding wars for the skimpy women. She felt a bit sorry for the girls, but at least the terms of the charity auction only transferred them to the winning bidder for a week. When the week was up, they would return to the slave facility that loaned them to the auction.
The auctioneer called for an intermission as the last girl was trotted off stage. Elizabeth let her gaze focus on her staff to ensure that drinks were being replenished and desserts were being delivered. Everything seemed to be running smoothly and she took pride in a well organized event.
Fifteen minutes later, the auctioneer gained everyone's attention as the male slaves were led past the table to take the stage. Elizabeth's interest perked up.
Since her marriage to FBI Peter Burke, she had left the world of pleasure slaves behind. Her family frowned upon her, but her and Peter had an understanding. Following their marriage, they agreed that a slave was out of the question for at least the first five years of their marriage. They had both witnessed families torn apart due to jealousy and they did not want that to happen to them.
Now, it was ten years later and the discussion had never been revisited. They were both very career driven and satisfied with each other. But now Elizabeth was thinking about it. She didn't have anything yet for their anniversary the following week and as she cast her eye over the lineup on stage, there were several potentials.
One thing Elizabeth knew for certain was that if a slave ever entered the picture, it would be a male. She had experimented in her teens with some of the female slaves her parents kept and it hadn't interested her. She also knew that Peter had been enamored with a male slave not long before they had met. However, he hadn't been able to afford the steep price the slave's owner had set when asked.
Elizabeth moved along the side wall until she was closer to the stage to get a good look. She couldn't see the ones at the far end very well, but it didn't matter. Her eyes landed on the one closest to her and she knew he was the one.
His hair was a dark brown and a bit unruly. Her mind immediately pictured all the ways her and Peter could grab that hair as he was pleasuring them. His body was well toned. There didn't appear to be an ounce of fat on him. Then, as if sensing her appraisal, he tilted his head enough that she saw his eyes, a blue as shocking as her own. Peter would love him.
Taking note of his number, Elizabeth looked around for June. Spotting the older woman, she headed over to hopefully negotiate a deal.
"Elizabeth! Everything is going just wonderful," June said in greeting.
"I'm so glad," Elizabeth responded. "I wanted to let you know that I was planning to donate half of the fee back to the organization. It's the least I could do."
"But you've more than earned it," June was saying. "I can't let you walk away with less than you deserve. I'm afraid all the females are gone, but would one of the males interest you? Half of your fee would more than cover the bid."
"Now that you mention it," Elizabeth said with a smile, "number 20 did catch my eye."
June nodded in agreement. "He is a beauty. Let me go speak with the auctioneer's assistant and get him secured for you."
"June," Elizabeth added before the woman walked off, "I know the deal is only for a week, but is there an option to buy at the end if we are interested? If things work out, he may make the perfect ten year anniversary present for my husband."
June smile knowingly. "I'm sure something can be arranged and if the facility gives you any issues or tries to the inflate the price, I'll help you out."
"Thank you, June," Elizabeth said with a smile. She turned back to the stage and watched number 20 subtly shift his weight as if he was debating on running. Once he was theirs, there would be no way for him to run anywhere.
Several hours later, a young man in a uniform approached her in the nearly empty ballroom.
"Mrs. Burke?" he questioned. When she nodded, he continued, "Mrs. Ellington said you would be taking one week ownership of slave number 20. We still have him in the holding area, but it's past time for us to leave and I need you to finalize the paperwork."
"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said as she passed the final stack of plates off to one of her employees. "I lost track of time. What do I need to do?"
He laid the paperwork out of the table and pointed out the signature requirements. He also highlighted the list of rules that had to be met regarding the condition of the slave upon return to the facility.
"What if we decide to purchase him at the end of the week?" she questioned as she signed.
"That happens more often than you think at these events," he said with a smirk. "Just bring the slave back at the appointed time and you'll be able to complete the full purchase then. Now, if you'll follow me, I'll show you to your new slave."
When they arrived at the holding area, Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath at seeing the slave up close. He was exquisite. Once she was able to focus, she took in his state of attire and began to frown.
"Do you have any additional clothing or shoes I can use on him? I was planning to take the subway and then a walk to get home."
"No ma'am," the handler said apologetically. "Most of the patrons of these events have-"
"Limos that take them straight to their doorstep. I guess we can manage with a taxi," she sighed, thinking of the attention the tight white material stripped over the slave's groin would garner in the subway.
"Here's a leash, the paperwork and the keys to the collar if you need them. The collar does come with a state of the art tracking device, so if the slave should become lost, just call the number on the paperwork and they will initiate a search."
"Thank you for all your help."
Over the next half-hour, the slave trailed along behind her as she ensured the cleanup was finalized and that all items had been handled. Then she clipped the leash to the slave and headed for the door. When she stepped outside, she hissed at the cold breeze and then immediately took her shoulder wrap off and handed it to the slave.
"I think you need this more than me," she said eying his bare chest. When he started to protest, she just gave him a stern look and he accepted the small piece of material that wouldn't do much to shield him. Luckily, she caught a cab pretty quick and they got inside.
When the slave started to kneel on the floor, she pulled him up to the seat next her. Then the cabbie coughed and nodded his head to the sign on the partition that stated that slaves were not allowed to sit on the seats.
Elizabeth snorted and solved the problem by pulling the slave awkwardly into her lap and wrapping her arms around him. She arched her eyebrows at the cabbie who was watching in the mirror, daring him to comment. When he drove off, she considered it her victory.
Resting her chin on the shoulder in front of her, she whispered conspiratorially, "I don't always like following the rules, but having an FBI agent for a husband doesn't always give me a chance to play."
Then, realizing she had missed reading the slave's name on the paperwork she asked, "What's your name?"
"Neal, Mistress," came the soft voice.
"Neal," she said, testing on her lips. "I'm Elizabeth. And I know you were probably expecting some high-class person that would pamper you with expensive things for the week, but I really liked you and I think my husband will like you too. It's our anniversary."
Neal didn't comment, but Elizabeth didn't expect it. Slaves, especially those in a new environment, were taught to remain silent unless asked a direct question or given permission to speak freely. Almost an hour of belonging to her wasn't enough to give him the feeling of safety that would only come with years of ownership. She was looking forward to it.
When the cab pulled up to her house, she tossed him the money and hurried Neal, not wanting him exposed to the cold any more. She dropped the leash once she was inside and continued on with her usual routine. She knew Peter was going to be home late, so she kicked her heels off and headed toward the back door to let Satch in from his outdoor area. The dog ran past her and she looked up sharply when he barked. She saw Neal kneeling on Satchmo's dog bed they kept near the door. Neal and Satch where in a faceoff and Elizabeth silently berated herself for not thinking of Neal first.
She walked over and placed one hand on Satch's head and one on Neal's. "Neal, this is Satchmo. Satchmo, Neal. I don't think Satch likes sharing his bed."
Then she tilted Neal's face up so those blue eyes were staring at her. "I'm sorry I didn't give you direction when we came in. My slave etiquette is a little rusty. Unless we've given you an order to kneel, you don't have to. You are welcome to sit on the furniture or just stand. Although, if you like kneeling, that's okay too," she added as an afterthought.
She recalled the personal slave her father had owned that was practically a second father to her. He had confided in her that he loved kneeling at his Master's feet.
"Thank you, Mistress," Neal said and he stood up.
"While we're on the subject," Elizabeth continued, "consider bathroom use and eating along the same lines. Neither of us like to micromanage to that level. Well, Peter might if you were one of his probationary agents."
"May I be excused to the bathroom, Mistress?" Neal questioned tentatively and Elizabeth smiled. It sounded like Neal probably had a thing about following rules too if he was already speaking without permission.
"Sure," she said. "I'll show you the master bath upstairs. Then I can figure out how to get you ready for Peter. You are a surprise gift after all."
Neal trailed her up the stairs and then he disappeared into the bathroom. She wasn't too worried about him since he left the door open. While he was occupied, she studied the bedroom as if it would supply her with the solution for how to present Neal to Peter. She was so deep into her thoughts that she didn't hear Neal reenter the bedroom until he spoke beside her.
"If I may make a suggestion, Mistress," and at her startled nod, he continued. "Place the nicest sheets you have on the bed, dim the lights and set up some candles, preferably electric if you have them so you don't have to blow them out later. Arrange me on the bed. Naked. Would your husband prefer the front or the back view the best?"
Elizabeth giggled as she considered the question. "Front for now I think. He likes the eyes first. Are you okay with restraints? Peter has a thing with cuffs. I think law enforcement corrupted him."
Neal nodded and Elizabeth set to work. Neal, without direction, started stripping the bed. Elizabeth went to the linen closet and got the sheets someone had given them as a Christmas gift the year before and they had never used. They were light blue silk that she knew would match not only Neal's eyes but her own. Her phone dinged with a text just as they got the new sheets positioned. Peter was on his way home.
"We have about thirty minutes," she told Neal. "Let's get you ready."
He stretched out on the bed and Elizabeth took the padded leather cuffs that Peter loved to use on her. She closed them around Neal's wrists and then attached them to the headboard.
"You can unclasp them like this if you need to," she said, showing Neal the trick. "Now, I have about ten minutes to play with you before I need to get myself ready to meet him at the door."
Elizabeth straddled Neal's hips and leaned down to kiss him for the first time. He opened his mouth to her and she let their tongues duel. Her hands wandered along his body as the kiss deepened. One trailed up his muscled arm, while the other found a nipple and began playing with it.
The nipple did the trick when she heard a groan from him. She left his mouth and trailed her kisses down his throat and sucked the same nipple into her mouth. She felt him buck his hips slightly toward her.
"Can't get too far ahead of ourselves," she said breathlessly as she looked up at him. His eyes were half closed and she was pretty sure the look of pleasure on his face wasn't faked like many slaves had to do.
She moved her body further down the bed and took in the sight of growing bulge in the tight white fabric. "Let's hope I can pull those off," she murmured and then hooked her fingers under the edges and tugged.
When Neal's cock was released from the confines, it sprung upward and then tilted against his flat belly. She pulled the fabric the rest of the way off and tossed them into the bathroom.
"You keep that look," she said standing up. "Now for mine. I want you to watch, Neal," she added as she unzipped the dress.
Neal's eyes were fixed on her body as she wiggled out of the dress. Then she put on a slow show as slipped her bra and panties off. Judging by the smear of pre-come forming along Neal's stomach, Elizabeth figured he was enjoying the show.
Then she grabbed one of her indulgences from a high-end lingerie store and did a pirouette, for Neal. "How do I look?"
"Beautiful, Mistress," Neal said just as she heard the door downstairs and Satch's welcoming bark.
"Peter's home. It's show time," Elizabeth said as she gave Neal a wink and headed down the stairs to greet him.