Boyfriend Sold to Slave Trader
Chained to a stone wall, suspended upside down, fear and confusion paralyze the blond man’s vocal cords.
His red-haired captor smiles. She enjoys his fear. Male suffering always arouses her. A slave trader, masculine terror speeds the transition from freedom to chattel slavery.
“You want to know why you are here. And what will be your fate. You don’t know me. Might think I am lying. Listen to the words of someone you trust.”
She presses her cellphone against one of his ears.
He recognizes the girlish giggle. Sherri his girlfriend is speaking.
“Don’t try to talk. This is a recording I made for Mistress Tara. She is a slave dealer.
“Get it out of your head that I loved or even liked you.
“You are too ordinary. Just a man. Like most men, you are boring.
“Your penis is puny, and you don’t know how to use it.
“I’ve dated many men like you. You are an emotional weakling. Any woman can wrap you around her fingers. You are pathetic.
“Once I was sure, you would make some woman a good slave, I called Mistress Tara. She told me to proceed.
“You probably don’t even remember your last bottle of beer. The knockout drug took effect instantly.
“Mistress Tara arrived, we bundled you into the trunk of her car.
“You are in the hands of a cruel woman. She will whip you for fun. Break what little will you have.
“Your ego destroyed, she will sell you. I’ll get a commission. That is the only reason I looked at you twice. And I’ve already hooked your successor.
“Now you know everything. Goodbye Allan.”
Tears slide down his forehead, splash on the stone floor.
Mistress Tara laughs. His broken heart only makes her want to hurt him.
She would give him something else to worry about. He is in the perfect position for a frontal whipping.
She picks up a whip.