A Profitable Business IV

by snap

- provided by the author/artist for use on SirJeff's Ponygirls.
- do not use without the author/artist's permission.




Chapter Seven

The sun is high and shining through the monitors when I finally wake up early the next afternoon. I call Samantha shortly afterwards and try to arrange a meeting. She acts as if she has no idea what’s going on, yet she is immediately reserved when she realizes it’s me. I can tell she knows what’s going on, and is apparently curious as to what I’m going to do about it. We arrange for her to swing by Walter’s place in the evening. She originally wanted to meet at a restaurant, which only heightened my suspicions as Samantha had always found every opportunity to come over to visit my dungeon.

After I get off the phone, I proceed with caring for my charges. After feeding, watering, and cleaning up after them I check Marjorie and Jane and make sure their gags and arm binders are secure and not overly tight. Then I head up to the loft and check my security systems. Logging onto the remote cameras, I verify that the cops are still at a complete loss. Leaning back in the chair, I decide what to do with my time for the next few hours. Spying Pet coming out of the shower, I reach a logical decision and moments later I am heading for the bedroom, Pet obediently following along behind me.

Hours later, I have showered and changed and am ready for my meeting with Samantha. I take the SUV this time and head out of town towards Walter’s estate. Pulling through the gates, it is already getting dark by the time I pull up to the mansion. The white haired butler meets me at the bottom of the stairs, an additional servant in tow.

“Good evening, sir. Mr. Grozny asked me to make you comfortable in the study while you wait. He is attending a personal matter at the moment. I assume you will be staying for dinner?”

“Actually, I hadn’t planned on dinner, but that would be most acceptable, provided it’s not too much trouble of course.”

“Of course not, sir. I’ll see you to the study. Mr. Grozny will join you shortly.”

As I followed the butler, I noticed the young servant climbing into my vehicle. He would pull it around to the garage and park it while I visited, and warm it up before bringing it back around when I leave. As I enter the mansion, I’m struck again by the magnificence of it. Entering through the double front oak doors, I stand in the entrance way gazing up at the chandelier hanging from the third floor ceiling above, it’s yellow glow reflecting off the white, red and black patterned marble flooring beneath my feet. Twin stairs arched up from either side of the room to the landing at the back wall, over which hung a huge mirror, and arched entrances flanked either side of the room. An ornate dining room was visible off to the left, and a formal reception room was on the right. The butler however leads me through a side door, and down a mahogany paneled corridor. At the last door on the right, I am ushered into the study. The walls are lined with shelves of books, and a massive polished desk occupies a dignified location at one side, tall windows behind it framing the high backed chair.

“Would you like a drink before dinner sir?”

After following the silent butler through the expansive home, his sudden question surprises me a bit. “Yes, please, perhaps a scotch on the rocks?”

“Very good, sir. I’ll bring it personally. Will there be anything else sir?”

“No, that will be all, thank you.”

“Very good, sir. Please make yourself comfortable in the meantime. Mr. Grozny wishes for you to make yourself at home. I’ll be back with your drink shortly.”

With this last statement, the butler turns and leaves and I am left in the huge study alone. I pass the time studying the books lining the shelves, occasionally removing one and studying it a bit before replacing it. There is a wide variety of interests represented, as well as rare books. I notice all of this with an eye towards placing it into context. The more I understand a person’s interests, the more I can understand them. The more I understand a person, the easier it is to deal with them.

I only have to wait a short while before Walter enters carrying two goblets. Approaching, he hands me one and begins to drink from the other. I accept the drink automatically, but don’t drink just yet, and watch Walter take a seat behind the desk.

“I assume you are checking on the status of the merchandise? If so, I can assure you things are proceeding quite well.” Walter seems genuinely curious as to the purpose of my visit, but maintains a pleasant demeanor. He knows I will lay things out when I am ready, and is willing to be patient. I decide to go ahead and lay my cards out and get his reaction. If my plan is to work, I’ll need his cooperation yet again. And if I can get his cooperation, then both of our positions within our small circle of acquaintances will improve dramatically.

“Walter, I’ve discovered the leak.” I am staring straight into his eyes as I speak, watching for any sign of recognition, any flicker of hesitation on his part. Instead, I see immediate curiosity.

“Really, who is it? No one particularly important I hope. I assume you plan some sort of retribution, in which case taking out a major player can be quite…eventful.” His tone was low and smooth, his voice even, but I can hear the tension. He knows I am asking him to figuratively jump over the cliff with me, and I had better have a damn good reason if I can expect further help from him.

“Someone important alright, but nobody that can’t be taken down. Frankly, I think there are a lot of people who will actually enjoy the spectacle. They are a long time player, but have a trail of enemies, and quite a few who are simply envious enough to want to see them taken down a notch or two.”

“So, who is it?” The question was direct and to the point. I knew at that moment he was in, either due to curiosity or a sense of adventure, or he was just playing along. Either way, he had my back.

“Samantha. She’s on her way over now.”

“Oh my. Now that is a surprise. You’re sure I assume?”

“Of course. Still in or are you losing your taste for the game?”

“I’m in. But I am curious as to exactly what you have in mind. Something like this has to be done in a singularly spectacular fashion. We mustn’t disappoint the crowd. We do this right and our paths are made. Do it wrong and they’ll eat us alive - or at least try at any rate.”

“You know, somehow I think anyone trying to take you down in your own home is going to simply disappear. But you have nothing to worry about. When she arrives, we’ll have to move delicately until it is too late for her to do anything about it. What types of sedatives do you have right now? I‘m not sure if it will be necessary, but then again if we have the opportunity we should go for it. We‘ll probably have to do something much more blunt.”

“I pretty much have anything you would want. My butler is quite skilled at such matters. By the way, you can go ahead and enjoy your scotch, it is quite safe. I would almost be insulted except it speaks to your sense of caution, and further encourages my confidence in your ability. So please, enjoy yourself. My hospitality is given freely, and without conditions. We have a business venture together at the moment, and I intend to see it through and make a tidy sum. To double cross you at this point would be to undercut the confidence of my own clients. Taking Samantha down is as far as I am willing to go at this point. Any further and people will think you and I are loose cannons.”

I laugh at his observation. I had been loosely carrying the goblet with me, pointedly not taking any drink of it. I did not want to end up in someone else’s trap. He might be playing me, but if so I had to take the risk. If I did not, he would not trust me any further than I would trust him. Casually, I raised the glass and took a swallow. The liquid burnt in a delicious manner as it trickled down my throat.

“Satisfied?”

“Quite. I assume Samantha will be here before too long and we have preparations to make. Now, what exactly do you have in mind?”

I take a seat to the side of the desk and Walter leans forward. Speaking quickly, I lay out my plans and watch the look of amusement on Walter’s face. After I finish, he leans back smiling.

“Now that is going to be a spectacle worth watching! Well worth the trouble if I do say so myself. I’ll make the arrangements immediately. Will there be anything else?”

“No, that’s it and this whole fiasco is done with. All loose ends are tied and everyone can continue on their merry way. I’m sure you can find suitable quarters for dear Samantha for the evening.”

“Of course. Now if you’ll join me, I’ll make the necessary preparations.”

“Delighted to. Let’s go.”

For the next two hours, we set up the trap, and then the headlights of a limousine began to creep up the long drive way. As it pulls to the front of the mansion, I excuse myself. Walter walks out to meet Samantha alone. As he proceeds down his front steps, the limousine driver opens the door and Samantha’s bodyguards step out.

All four of them.

I’m watching from an upper window, so I can’t hear what is being said but I can deduce Walter’s reaction. He is professing ignorance at the moment, and gesturing towards the bodyguards. The two speak in low tones for a minute, after which Walter gestures towards the side and the limousine driver pulls away. Samantha and her goons follow Walter inside.

I can’t observe what is going on at the moment, but all that has taken place so far has been accounted for. The only complication is there are twice as many bodyguards as were planned for. The driver won’t be taken out until we have fully implemented our plan.

Walter should have his “guests” in the dining hall by now, so I proceed as planned. I go downstairs using a servants passage, and slip quietly into a side hall way. By pre-arranged plan, a door was left cracked slightly between the hall and the dining hall, and the hallway light is dimmed. I can observe now without being seen. I am sure Walter has a better way of monitoring his home, but he is not letting me have access to such a system so I have to make do with the current situation.

I peer through the crack, and see Walter standing just beyond the middle of the room on the other side of the long formal dining table. He is facing Samantha and both are talking in an animated fashion. Arrayed around the pair at equal distances from each other and from Walter are the four bodyguards. All are tensed up and staring at their employer, one or two even had their hands resting across their chest, obviously awaiting a signal to go for their armaments at the least provocation. They are all typical goons, hired for their muscle and intimidation factor rather than their intelligence or abilities.

So much for Plan A. Fortunately, we have a Plan B.

Slipping my own firearm out of it’s ever present shoulder holster, I slip off the safety and consider the best approach. A second later I casually open the door and walk quickly and silently through. All eyes of course turn towards me as I have appeared in the midst of them almost like a ghost. Samantha stops in mid sentence, a look of shock on her face. My pistol is already lined up with the far left goon’s head. As his head erupts in a blast of flesh and blood and brains, I am already drawing a bead on the second goon on the far left. I am still walking quickly towards him as I squeeze off the trigger. Without pausing to check the results of my handiwork, I pivot on my heel and swing the pistol down and around and back up again. As the front sight is just passing the chin of the closest goon on the right I squeeze the trigger. As the weapon bucks back into my hand, I absorb the recoil and allow it to rise up towards the ceiling as I turn towards the final goon and allow my arm to begin to drop. This one has had the most warning and has managed to almost clear his weapon. Unfortunately for him, he has gone for style and intimidation in his selection of sidearms and has selected a very large magnum revolver with an impressively long barrel. He is struggling to clear the muzzle of his weapon as a large red geyser erupts between his eyes.

Samantha stands still, a look of complete shock expressed clearly on her face. Her eyes are wide and her mouth is open in mid-sentence. The entire episode took less than two seconds. Walter is looking around at the carnage then matter of factly calls for his servants. As white jacketed servants arrive and begin to cart off the bodies, Samantha stands still, stunned and confused.

“I’ll leave her to you. I have a real mess to clean up and I trust you can take care of matters for now.” With that statement, Walter turns and leaves, giving confident but quiet orders to his servants. The bodies will disappear and there will never be a trace of what happened to them.

I just wave my pistol towards the door. Without a word, Samantha sags her shoulders in fearful resignation and walks through. We head towards the stables. When we get there, Samantha looks around at the full stalls and realizes where her former partners livestock got off to when he died and shivers visibly. I lead her to the wash down stall and she stands still.

I reach over to the wall and remove a collar from it’s peg and toss it to her. She half catches it, then stoops and picks it up from the floor. She has been at the game long enough she knows what it’s for. Without a whimper, she slips the collar around her neck and fastens it while staring at the floor. I gesture the gun muzzle at the chain hanging from the ceiling. With a shaky sigh, she takes the few steps over to it and fastens it to her collar. Then she cracks.

“We don’t have to do this. Please, let’s work something out. I’ll do anything. Let’s just work this out please. Listen to me, I can make you a lot of money. Just give me a chance. I have a lot of contacts!”

I just stare at her coldly and toss her wrist cuffs. She holds them for a full minute, her eyes pleading with me.

“Please, let’s work something out. I know I can make it worth your while!”

She’s getting desperate now. I raise the pistol and point it at her head. Shaking with fear, she frantically slips the cuffs over her wrists and tightens them. Obviously the sight of her bodyguards being cut down so effortlessly has made a suitable impression. I step forward with the chain from one wall in one hand, my pistol still in the other. I press the pistol into her cleavage. She takes the hint and raises her left wrist. I snap the line into the link on the cuff, then repeat the procedure for her right wrist. When I am done, she is standing with her collar fastened to a chain from the ceiling, and both arms spread wide from her body by the chains attached to each side of the stall. Her eyes are wide in panic now.

“Come on, please. Trust me, I can make it all right between us. Just give me a chance!”

I’m tired of listening to her now, so I make a selection from the wall. When I turn back towards her, Samantha groans aloud when she sees what I have I my hand.

“No! Don’t! Come on, don’t! Stop!” She actually stamps her foot petulantly as she begs.

Seconds later, her wide eyes are staring back at me from above the ring gag I have just shoved into her mouth. It is secured behind her neck and the buckle is cutting into the back of her neck slightly, but that’s ok for now. Instead of stamping her foot, she is shaking her head negatively. Her long locks of hair splay about her head. A few strands are trapped under the strap of the gag.

I take a few more minutes to attach cuffs at her ankles, and secure them to the walls in the same way as the wrist cuffs. When I am done, she can move only a little, but not enough to avoid my touch. Selecting one of the shears, I proceed to cut off every stitch of clothing. When I am done, she is completely naked except for the ring gag. I have even removed her shoes. Afterwards, I walk around behind her and grab a large handful of her hair and pull viciously. As her head tilts back, I begin to snip her dark locks off. Screams come through the ring gag freely, but I continue anyway. I make sure to carefully lay the strands of hair to one side so I don’t lose them. I leave a final strand at the crown of her head as something to hold onto, then get the razor out. It takes another half hour, but when I am done, her scalp is completely shaven. I remove the strands I had left as a final measure. Now she is completely bald.

The next step is to shave her down below. Totally defeated, she stands weeping while I shave her small strip of pubic hair off. Now the only hair she has left of any note are her eyebrows and eyelashes. I consider further grooming efforts, then decide that her eyelashes and eyebrows will accentuate her expressions and leave them.

The next step is to pierce her nipples. She screams out in pain once again but I ignore her. I notice that even in the cool environment of the barn, she is perspiring freely. The sheen of sweat on her pale skin creates an interesting hue. After her nipples, I decide on a lark to pierce her nether regions as well. When I am done, a double row of bright metal rings travel down each vaginal lip. I double the rings up, then slip a long u-shaped rod through the rings before I slap the bottom half of the tiny padlock in place. Without the key, nobody is going to fuck her!

Then I begin to dress her. Only this is not the kind of clothing she’s used to. I start with slipping on very thick soled, very high heeled stilettos. They are held on only by a leather strap at the ankle, and she will have to be careful or she’ll trip and fall. Small padlocks make sure she cannot remove the uncomfortable footware.

Next, I bring her wrists around behind her back and cuff them together. Finally, I slip thin spiked leather straps around each breast and pull them tight. She has implants I can tell, and her breasts are already rather large. After the straps are in place, her breasts jut out straight from her torso, and are pulled tight as drum skins. Her nipples are especially distended, and form smaller swollen volcanic points on each breast. I flick one with my finger and hear it actually thump. She jumps slightly and groans when I do this, so out of vindictiveness I thump a few more times, harder. Stepping up to within a few inches of her breasts, I casually reach up and take both nipples between my thumb and forefinger and begin to squeeze. Samantha rises and pulls back in spite of her predicament. I take my time and continue this torment for a while, enjoying her anguish. Finally tiring of this part of the game, I continue. I connect the two breast straps together and slip another leather strap between them, cinching them painfully together. Samantha by now has given up screaming, and just groans with each new torment, silent tears of fear, frustration, and anger flowing freely.

I slip a length of rope around her thighs, just above the knees, and slip the free end through the steel ring dangling from between her breasts. At this point, I remove the collar from the ceiling chain, then pull the rope tight. Her response is to immediately bend over at the waist as her breasts are pulled downward.

Now that she’s bent over, I extend the chains that once held her wrists to the side walls and re-attach them to each side of her collar. Tottering on her stilettos, she barely manages to maintain her balance even though she can hardly move. Stepping around the whimpering figure, I make an additional selection from the wall and return. Samantha can’t see what I have picked out, but realizes nevertheless what it is when she feels her ass cheeks being spread preparatory to the anal plug being inserted. She actually rises a bit on her toes in spite of her footware, screaming around the gag.

As a final measure, I attach small chains to her nipple rings, then extend them to small steel rings set in the front of the leather ankle straps holding her shoes on. When I’m done, she can’t move without something pulling in a most painful fashion. I step back to appreciate my work, then decide to add one more touch. I attach another small chain between her wrist cuffs, extend it down between her ass cheeks, then up between the folds of her vagina and attach the other end to her belly button ring.

As I lead her out of the stall, I hear her grunting with each step as her nipples are pulled tight. This forces her to take smaller, quicker steps to alleviate the pressure. Cognizant of her predicament, I pick up the pace so that she is almost running.

Passing the nearer stalls, I proceed down to the farthest stall from us. I picked it deliberately, and we emptied all of the existing stock from that stall and redistributed them evenly to the other stalls. Our dear Samantha will have a stall all to herself now.

As she stumbles into the stall, she trips slightly over the threshold and tumbles face first into the shavings on the stall floor. She will have a difficult time getting up without the use of her arms. Without another word, I close the door, latch it, and leave without a backwards glance. For her part, Samantha managed to crawl into a corner to wallow in her own self pity.

I leave instructions to the stable hands and return to the mansion. By this time Walter has cleaned up the mess and is relaxing with a drink in the study. I join him and review the evenings activities, ending with a detailed description of what I had done to Samantha. Grinning demonically, we begin planning the next stage of events.

Meanwhile, Samantha has become the center of attention for the stable hands. They don’t have the key to her unique chastity device, but they do have other means of gratifying themselves at her expense. The ring gag provides perfect access for her to service them each orally, and after years of her abuse and teasing, they are not going to let the opportunity pass them by. A few of the more adventurous realize they can slip the anal plug out past the chains and do so. Samantha is then used by two at once, repeatedly. This will go on for hours until the last stable boy is spent. At that time, the straps around her purpled breasts will be removed and she will be left in the stall until the morning.