"But we don't deal in permanent slaves," she added. "That is illegal."
"Yes," sighed Heath. "I suppose it is. But I'm sure there must be enterprising people who do deal in slaves. Perhaps you might know of some?"
Erika had a dilemma. How should she respond? She did indeed know of people who trafficked in human flesh. Her own mistress was one of those people. But she couldn't tell them that. Plus, she didn't want, in any way, to be involved in anything that would result in some poor girl being kidnapped and sold into slavery. It was one thing to arrange slave experience for volunteers through No Escape to Paradise. Those were temporary and were more fantasy-like. They were far from the real deal.
"I don't think we can help you," she answered. "But I can ask around. Perhaps some of my colleagues or investors might have some ideas."
"Thank you," smiled Heather. "In the meantime, we can set up the schedule for ownership. We will want Symphony, of course."
"I will talk to Symphony on my next visit to see when she will be available for you again. She may not even want to repeat her experience, though. And even if she does want to, she has other responsibilities that may prevent her from repeating often. How often would you like to own a slave?"
"Well, as I said," replied Heath, "we are considering a permanent one so more frequent would be best. At least monthly and perhaps every other week."
"I will talk to her." Erika concluded her interview and then drove back to the office. In a way, this was very good news. It meant that some people would be loyal, repeat customers. But it also meant that her business could result in innocent girls being kidnapped to meet the demand for slaves that she was creating.
"I told you we might have to kidnap her," Heather said to Heath. "There's no way that she'll be able to be available as much as we want her to be."
Heath sighed again. "Yes, dear, you are right. But I'm not sure that I'm ready to go there yet."
"At least we could get rid of those silly limits if we truly owned her. I'd love to put some rings in those puffy nipples of hers. And I'd love to have her wear our mark." "We have a mark?"
"Well, no, not yet," Heather replied. "But we will. And she will wear it someday."
"Yes, dear."
Chapter 6
Saturday night was to be Symphony's debut. The Whitcombs were holding a party and they planned on Symphony being the star attraction.
Symphony knew that there was to be a party. And she figured that her owners planned to display their girl in some way. But she didn't know how that was going to work or what would be expected of her. And not knowing was probably worse than knowing. Everything from gang rape to torture ran through her mind. Whatever they did to her, she knew it would be humiliating.
Her biggest fear was discovery. She hoped that she was far enough away from home that she would not see anyone she knew. In reality, she had no idea where she was. She had not even been outside since she was delivered on Wednesday and she had been unconscious then. She could be in the next town over or a hundred miles from home. The fact that Erika showed up every day, though, told her that she was probably within a couple of hours of Chicago. Being that close caused her to worry about someone recognizing her and discovering her naughty adventure.
She had bathed with Heather a little bit earlier. Heather enjoyed her nightly bath with her girl. Symphony would shampoo and wash her mistress. Then Heather would do the same with Symphony but would do so much more slowly. She loved the feel of the girl's supple flesh and fondled her more than washed her. It took her over five minutes to wash the slave's breasts, for example. And she always saved the girl's sex for last and spent over ten minutes washing it, not stopping until she had pushed her slave into orgasm.
Symphony dried and styled Heather's hair and then helped with the make-up. Then it was Heather's turn to create Symphony in the image she desired. The blonde hair was meticulously combed out for more than ten minutes until it was silky and lustrous. Then Heather started to braid a halo of hair around the top of the girl's head. She finally turned Symphony toward the mirror.
"You will be a princess tonight," said Heather.
"A princess, Mistress?" questioned Symphony. Maybe this night would not be so humiliating after all.
"Yes, pet. You will be a princess; a slave princess."
Symphony's heart sank. She knew it would be embarrassing, just like she had feared.
"And the prince will be in attendance," Heather continued. "Our son will be home from college for the night."
"Oh god!" thought Symphony. She didn't even know they had a son. They both looked too young for a college-aged son. And now the boy would bear witness to her humiliation.
Symphony dressed her mistress in a formal gown and had to admit that she looked stunning. The emerald green dress seemed to highlight her flaming red hair which had been cut and elegantly styled to be shoulder length. The dress had been perfectly tailored to accentuate her curvy body and the low-cut bodice nicely displayed the upper swells of her generous breasts.
"You look beautiful, Mistress."
Heather smiled and leaned forward, kissing her girl. "Thank you, princess. Now let's finish getting you ready."
Heather removed the shock collar and replaced it with an ornate gold choker. A slender gold chain went around her waist and rested on her hips. Two metal bands were wrapped around her ankles and two more were wrapped around her calves, just below the knees. A final set of metal bands were placed on her wrists. She had not seen any of these cuffs before but they fit her perfectly.
She led the girl downstairs and turned her over to Heath. Heath had the entertainment aspects of the evening figured out. He left the menu planning to his wife.
Earlier in the afternoon, he had a granite pedestal delivered. It was a perfect cube measuring two feet on each side. A cushion was placed on top of the cube and he placed Symphony on top of the cushion, kneeling. Then he attached her wrist cuffs to the cuffs just below her knees. He made sure that her knees were spread wide and then stepped back to admired his artwork.
"Such a beautiful ornament," he told her. "I'm sure the guests will love you."
Heath and Heather had hired help for the evening. Two college-age girls dressed provocatively in French maid outfits scurried about. Symphony wondered what the girls must be thinking about the new ornament that had been added to the room. But if they were shocked or even surprised, they hid it well. This made Symphony wonder just how uncommon a naked girl on a pedestal really was.
Heath disappeared after placing the ornament and returned about thirty minutes later, dressed in a tuxedo. Now Symphony felt really underdressed.
The guests started arriving a few minutes later and all of them bee-lined to where Symphony was bound. They had all been told ahead of time about the beautiful slavegirl who would be on display and they wanted to see it for themselves. She had never felt so embarrassed in her life. Everyone crowded around the pedestal to get a better look and to fondle and caress the naked beauty.
"I thought Heather was kidding," commented one woman to another as she lifted Symphony's left breast and bounced it in her palms.
"Me too," agreed the other woman as her fingers glided over the shaved mound and down to the petals which were, somehow, already juicy with arousal.
There was a lot of chatter. They talked among themselves about the girl but nobody talked to the girl. Symphony truly felt like an inanimate ornament at this point.