Clara's Story - Part 3
Posted: 13 Mar 2024, 05:19
As soundlessly as he could, Ian let himself into Clara’s spacious cage as she slept peacefully beneath the blankets. He sat in his recliner and admired his conquest. He had never tried this before, pulling a slave in from another world. He had spent months preparing for her, setting everything into motion so he could be assured of a smooth transfer once he nabbed her. And now, she was his.
Of course, he could never allow anyone to know that she came from another world. Only a few people in his innermost circle knew the success of his mining operation depended on an off-world workforce who was all too happy to work for basic medical care. Do patents extend to other worlds? Ian thought not, so what he was doing was perfectly legit.
He did not want his government discovering his technology yet, though the potential resource of breedable females from other worlds might eventually warrant him revealing his hand to save his population. For now, he was content to have a fertile female of his own. His business partners would likely want one as well, and that would happen when the time was right.
WERT’s information about Clara’s progress displayed in his neural interface and the robot’s report scrolled across his field of vision as if he was looking at a computer monitor. His little pet had cursed right after he left for the night, but he was pleased to learn that her behavior was otherwise decent. Ian had set her bedtime at 10:30 PM and she tried to convince WERT to not turn the TV off after she got engaged with a baking show on the Food Nation network, arguing that “Mr. Kline didn’t need to know about it.” But the report also indicated that she didn’t put up any further argument when WERT turned the lights and TV off at 10:30 sharp.
He sat down on Clara’s bed and watched his new pet sleeping peacefully. He considered the curvy, toned figure, ample breasts, and slender limbs that tapered off to nimble hands and small feet hidden beneath the blankets, shrouding her. Her ivory skin and full lips were delicate, unique and almost angelic .
“Good morning, my beautiful pet,” Ian said to Clara as he gently stroked her red hair. She hadn’t noticed him enter the cage or sit down on her bed, but her eyes opened when she felt his hand. She smiled at Ian with sparkling eyes for just a second before her face turned sour.
“Oh wait!” she said as her circumstances returned to her memory. “You kidnapped me!” She kneed him in the side.
“Oh, I bet you’d have preferred to smack my face, or punch me, instead of impotently kneeing me. But, pet, you were a bad girl yesterday and you lost the use of your hands.”
Clara scowled at him and he smiled back.
“Jerk,” she said.
WERT flashed red and Ian raised his hand. “Jerk is permitted,” he said to the robot as he chuckled and rubbed his side. He returned his attention to Clara.
“I’m pleased with you for downgrading me from an asshole to jerk. Well done, pet.” He pointed skyward and Clara watched the collar descend a few more inches. She rolled over in bed facing away from him.
“I was having a perfectly nice dream about you teasing me with promises of chastity and helping me with math. That’s the Ian Kline I was falling for.”
“Ahhh, but little pet, this is the Ian Kline you got. Oh, and I’ll still be helping you with math. Clara-Jane had a completed degree in medical technology that I’ll need to catch you up on. I’ll also support a second degree in nursing if that’s still your preference, but I can’t have you running around being unfamiliar with your first degree.”
“What is medical technology?”
“You’ll be trained on this world’s latest medical advances and you’ll work with patients and doctors by reviewing charts and recommending treatments.”
“That actually sounds really cool,” she said. “What is my day going to look like?”
“First thing is first, we’re going to go upstairs and get you a shower and an enema.”
Clara didn’t like things being shoved up her backside and an enema felt deeply personal. She didn’t want to do it at all, and especially not with him watching. “What else are we doing today?”
“We’ll have breakfast upstairs in my residence, and if you’re good, I might let you sit on the patio for a bit. The weather is really nice. If you’re really well behaved, I’ll take you for a walk around the property.”
“You’re not afraid I’ll try to run?” Clara asked.
“You’ll be wearing a harness, pet. I won’t be taking any chances with you until you’re trained and collared. Even then, you’ll be restricted for your own safety. I should advise you that my security team knows you’re here reluctantly and that you’re a flight risk.”
“Oh good,” Clara said sarcastically. “I wouldn’t want to feel that I stole my freedom back from you by having slipped past untrained guards when I break free and run home.”
Ian kissed her forehead. “You’re not going home, pet.”
“I am going home,” she reaffirmed.
Ian just smiled and pulled the blanket down. He rolled her over onto belly and slid her nighty up to her waist revealing her bruised backside. “Am I in trouble?”
“I’m not going to spank you, but there is the matter of the language infraction. WERT reported that you had a choice comment to make last night after I left. We’ll take care of that soon.” Ian gently ran his hands across the globes of her ass, assessing the bruising. “No more spankings until you’re all healed,” he declared. He released the chain that connected her wrists, and she rolled over, lifting her hips again when he told her to. Ian laid a network of straps beneath her, then clicked them closed around her waist. Clara could feel the magnets on the two ends of the straps and she understood the technology that was likely at play. It was a perfect fit for her, just as the chastity cup had been, and it dawned on her in that moment that if his story of an alternate universe was true, then these items were likely made for Clara-Jane. Two additional straps fit around her thighs and four more crossed her belly and ass connecting the thigh bands to the belt. She looked down to inspect herself when he was done connecting everything.
The harness was constructed of a flexible golden mesh so fine that one could mistake it at first glance for fabric. The straps were soft on the side against her skin, lined with some material she couldn’t identify. The thigh bands joined to the waistband, preventing her from pulling up on the belt, while her generous hips prevented it from being pushed down. A mesh handle on the back along with some rings on either side gave Ian a firm, controlling grip on her body and an anchor to which he could apply chains or tethers. Why is this turning me on? she asked herself as she felt her pussy flood and throb with need.
Ian patted her thigh. “Go ahead and get yourself into your high-protocol position.”
Clara groaned but she got out of bed, found the cushion, and knelt on the pillow. She separated her knees wide for him, giving him a nice view of the chastity cup that was attached to her pussy, and she gripped her elbows behind her back. She straightened her back and tipped her chin up to look at him.
Ian nodded in acknowledgement and produced the paper box with the soap in it. He lathered up the cake in the sink and held it out to her. “Open up.”
“No please,” Clara immediately begged, leaning back, away from the offered soap. “You said you were pleased with my efforts with language. Can’t we skip this?”
“Absolutely not, pet. You’ll get firm, consistent discipline from me across the board. You’ll feel safer knowing what to expect from me. Now open up,” he said, holding the bar of soap to her lips.
Clara looked down at the bar dripping bubbles from Ian’s hand. She shook her head. “It’ll make me sick.”
“It won’t make you sick. It’s designed to go in your mouth and can even be swallowed. You’re safe, pet. I wouldn’t do anything to you that would harm you.” He pushed the bar against her closed mouth and as soapy liquid reached the crack of her lips, she got a preview of what was to come. “Open up right now. This is your final warning.”
“Please,” Clara pleaded through clenched teeth. Ian just looked at her and she finally opened her mouth. The bar was shoved in about three-quarters of the way and Clara immediately started gagging. The taste was truly horrible and tears welled up in her eyes. She was instructed to bite into it and close her lips around it.
“You have 15 minutes with the soap. Don’t move your hands or otherwise attempt to remove it. Nod your head if you understand my expectations.”
Clara nodded her head. Tears spilled down her cheeks and the sounds of gagging occasionally disrupted her silence. The bar of soap continued to bubble forcing suds to escape past her lips, drip down her chin and slide down the back of her throat. She reached to wipe her face with her hand, but Ian reminded her that she was not permitted to move. She was forced to sit there, kneeling in her high protocol position with bubbles spilling from her mouth and dripping down to her breasts, soaking her nighty.
After what felt like an hour, Ian reached forward, gripping the bar. She readily released it and he disposed of the remnants. More than half the bar that was in her mouth had disintegrated into suds. “How do you feel?” Ian asked her, handing her a wet cloth.
She wiped herself. “That was horrible,” she admitted. “What kind of sick, sadistic fuc-- person came up with that?”
Ian laughed. “In this culture, we readily use punishment to correct people. As you said, real soap is really unhealthy. Everything in punishment soap is edible. The experience is miserable, but you won’t get sick.”
“Can I rinse?” Clara asked, eying the sink in her water closet.
“Absolutely not.”
Clara growled at Ian as he left her cage to get clothes from her dresser. Into a bag, he placed some lacy panties and a bra, a short, pleated skirt, a shirt that looked a little too childish for Clara’s tastes, a pair of Mary Janes, thigh-high stockings, and some toiletries. Finally he added a baby blue plaid woolen poncho-style shawl.
“Do you like the outfit I selected for you?”
“Not really,” she admitted. “I’m 25 years old. I’m an adult. That outfit looks too young for me.”
“In this world, you’re barely an adult. I told you that I was 32, but I’m actually 45. I will likely look this young through 70 or 80 years of age. You’ll meet a lot of people who are much older than they appear by your standards. Our medical advancements are superior to those in your world. At 25 years old, you’re practically a child.”
“What is the legal age of consent here?” Clara asked.
“She hadn’t noticed it until he utilized it, but the nighty she wore had a slit in the back to allow for the handle of her harness to be pulled through. “20,” Ian replied, as he ushered Clara out of her cage, gripping the handle on her harness tightly and keeping her close to his body. “For indentured servitude it’s 23, and sexual slavery is 25.” As they waited for the elevator, Clara tried to peer around the bend in the direction of the blue lights she’d seen yesterday, but all she could see were large hoses and wires, leading to what she did not know.
“I have security on my property 24 hours a day, as I told you earlier,” he explained to her when they stepped onto the elevator. “My guards have been advised that you are adjusting to your period of slavery somewhat poorly and that you might attempt to run, or say something in an effort to convince them that you are being held illegally.” He pulled Clara a little closer to him and spoke sternly to her. “If you put me in a position where I have to act, you can be assured that I will make an impressive display of control over you, both for the benefit of my security staff and also for you.”
She looked at him wide-eyed and the elevator dinged and opened to reveal a glass-enclosed lobby with a view of the mountains in the region she knew as West Virginia. With gentle guidance, he steered her out of the elevator. “What is this place?” Clara asked, noting the empty area and unstaffed front desk. Outside of the lobby windows, she could see a mostly empty parking lot and combined with the rising sun, she surmised that the work day was several hours away.
“I run my mining business from here. This area leads into the administrative offices,” Ian said, showing her a set of glass doors before he directed her to a glassed-in walkway. “My private residence is this way.” They stepped into what Clara could best describe as a skybridge, but the bridge only went over a river. Ian let her stop to admire the water and the mountains in the background.
“It’s beautiful!” she said. “It’s like a patchwork quilt of autumn colors has been thrown over the mountains. This is your house?” Clara asked, spying the one-story structure that appeared to be made of wood and stone.
He nudged her forward and they entered through a set of double doors into the residence where his home was decorated with natural finishings and modern furniture. The ceiling was high and vaulted, made of warm, caramel-colored wood. Smoothed river rocks formed the hearth and chimney, and gray and brown flagstone covered the floors. A cream-colored sofa atop a rug of a darker color centered the great room and the kitchen looked freshly remodeled with a simple design of clean lines and hidden appliances. Floor to ceiling windows in the great room and kitchen brought in the picture-perfect mountains making the home simply spectacular.
“Home system, arm the alarm and set the temperature to 25 degrees in the northern bathroom.” He gave Clara a wink, “That’s 77 of your degrees. I want a warm pet fresh from the shower.” A chime echoed through the living space of the home and Clara noticed a discreet red light illuminated at the door and each window. Clearly, slipping out of the house would trigger the alarm.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said warmly as he guided her down a corridor to what she assumed was the home’s primary bedroom. The ensuite brought the outside into the shower with one glass wall. Smooth gray stones made up the other walls and the same flagstone from the rest of the house carried into the bathroom and shower.
Clara noticed the enema bag was waiting for her along with some fluffy towels and a robe. “I know it’s going to feel weird at first, but the weirdness will eventually give way to normalcy.” He set the canvas tote he’d filled with her clothing and toiletries down and she disrobed at his direction while he filled the enema bag with warm water.
She stood before him wearing the harness and chastity cup, and she held her hand over her breasts. Ian gently moved her limbs to her side and told her to get down on all fours on the water proof mat he had arranged for her. From behind he gently stroked her hip and the outside of her thigh like she was a prize horse. The bar buried between her cheeks was released and the anal plug was carefully removed. Ian had disconnected the bar from the chastity cup and set it down before he got to work. He dipped his left finger into a jar of petroleum jelly and withdrew a dollop of lubricant. The first dollop was spread on the nozzle of the enema tube and the second was brought behind her, out of view. “I’ll be gentle, pet,” he said as he pressed his finger against her rosebud, which she tightened in protest. Her skin pinkened in humiliation as his finger carefully invaded her most private spot.
“You need to relax, pet. Take a few deep breaths,” he told her. With careful, seesawing motions, Ian inserted his finger in and out, going deeper each time. “I’m all the way in, pet. You’re doing great.” His finger was buried up to the knuckle in her ass and he moved it around, pumping it in and out and wiggling it from time to time.
“Even with the plug, you’re still so tight, pet!” The nozzle to the enema went in next and it slid into place easily after he loosened her up with his finger. Warm water sloshed into her body and rushed to her belly as the bag emptied into her. She tensed up at the sensation and the invasiveness of the procedure, but there was nothing painful so she remained calm. Ian ran a hand up and down her back until the bag was empty and he removed the nozzle.
“You can lay on your side if you’re more comfortable. You’ll hold the water for 10 minutes and then you can release it.” She nodded her head and lowered herself to her side, laying on the mat. Any position was better than all fours.
After 10 minutes, Ian announced, “The toilet is over there.” He gestured to a closed door. “Keep the door open.”
“Keep the door open?” Clara asked in horror. “No! This is private!”
“Open,” he repeated in a firm tone.
Clara rushed to the water closet and closed the door all but one inch. “All the way open!” she heard him holler at her. She ignored him and evacuated her bowels in semi-privacy. She flushed, and returned to face Ian.
Ian directed her to get back onto all fours on the mat. “Your directions were too difficult for you to follow as given. I’m going to assist you so you don’t make the same mistake again.” With a tool he had stored nearby, Ian popped the pins out of the door hinge and eased the door off the side jamb. Clara was slack jawed. She had not expected him to do that, but in hindsight, that was the exact move he’d make. He did literally kidnap her, bar her from her own sex, soap her mouth, and cuff her hands behind her back because she grabbed the bars at dinner time. Why wouldn’t he have responded to her small act of defiance like this?
He had her position herself to repeat the process, and Ian explained that generally he would give her as many as it took to get her cleaned out and comfortable with the process.
“You haven’t earned privacy, pet,” he told her when she sat down on the toilet in full view to evacuate her bowels. Blushing from head to toe, she buried her face in her hands as she took care of her business.
“I hate you, Ian!”
“That’s, ‘I hate you, Master!’”
“I hate you, Sir.”
“If you truly hated me, pet, I don’t think your nipples would be so hard.”
She looked down at her breasts. Mortified, she covered the taut little rocks with her hands.
Ian turned on the water in the shower and when Clara finished up on the toilet, she padded on bare feet across the heated stone floor to the large shower. The water was already hot, and the spacious shower was warm in spite of its size thanks to steam vents that made the corners as toasty as the center where the water focused.
Ian turned on a second shower head and joined her under the waterfall. She jumped a little when she felt his hands wrap around her midsection, but there was probably no point in playing coy at this point. She’d slept with him, sucked him off, and he’s seen every last inch of her body already. Besides, she wasn’t actually afraid of Ian; she was just pissed at him and she wanted very much for him to admit his alternate universe story was a lie and let her go home.
Her thoughts were effectively distracted when Ian smoothed his lathered, masculine hands over her body, rubbing them in circles over her belly and then under and over her breasts. She sucked her breath in as his hands teased her nipples and thumbed them into further hardness. He soaped her shoulders and arms, and her neck before he ran his hands firmly over her hips, legs and finally her feet, working around the harness that he didn’t trust her to release her from. “I’ll clean under your cup last. For now, it's your turn, pet. Wash your Master.”
Wash my Sir, she corrected in her mind, oblivious to the concession she’d just made. He did not provide washcloths, so she worked the lather into her hands, and realized that the intent was to have their hands all over each other. I see what you did there, she thought as she placed her soapy palms on Ian’s muscular chest. He was so warm and hard, she thought to herself as she rubbed her hands across his taut skin. She exhaled, admiring his form and he knew from the look in her eyes that she was at the very least attracted to him.
“Legs,” he directed her when she had finished his torso and arms. After soaping up his long, lean legs, Clara was directed to clean his cock and balls. When she was finished lathering him, his cock had grown hard and he gently took her hands and placed them on his shaft, explaining to her how he liked to be stroked. He grew even harder under her ministrations and he directed her to raise her hands and approach the wall of the shower. She had overlooked a ring and short chain that had been bolted into the stone wall when she first glanced at the shower, but there it was, and Ian was securing her wrists to the short tether. “Stick your ass out and widen your stance for me,” Ian told her firmly.
“Yes, Sir,” she muttered as she took a step backward and leaned into the wall, effectively presenting her ass to him. He reached between her legs, grabbed the cup, and removed it, setting it down in the running water to give it a good rinse. Soapy, masculine hands reached down to massage suds into her sex and then her ass before lining his cock up against her pussy. He grabbed her hips and eased himself into her, moaning as his cock was enveloped with her tight, slippery softness.
“You feel amazing,” he uttered in a husky voice into her ear when he was fully within her. “And I can tell I feel just as good to you,” he said. She was giving herself away to him by contracting her pussy muscles around his shaft. She couldn’t help it; he really did feel good and she had desperately needed a cock in her since he locked her in that infernal contraption that left her constantly horny and unable to find relief.
“You feel good,” she begrudgingly conceded as he pumped in and out of her, inspiring her to moan and meet his thrusts. She couldn’t help herself. She had been kept in a state of abject denial for too long. Clara placed her hands flat against the wall to stabilize herself and allowed herself to enjoy Ian’s rhythmic thrusts.
“Oh my goodness,” she whispered as she noticed her body starting to brace for an orgasm. He noticed it too and he withdrew from her just in time to prevent her climax.
“What are you doing?” she cried out, seeking his cock by shifting her position in an effort to rejoin their sexes. “Ian, please!” she begged. “I was so close!” He grabbed his cock in one hand and held her hips close to him with the other while he pumped himself vigorously, spilling ropes of thick fluid on her lower back. “Nooooo!” she cried out.
“You need to give me one more orgasm before you’ve earned one for yourself, pet,” Ian told her softly, as he reached around and stroked her breasts. “You did a good job with this one, though, so I’m happy to count it toward your requirement.” Clara stomped her foot as Ian put the chastity cup back, sinking a larger plug into her ass.
Ian sat with her when she was finished showering and he allowed her to explore the bathroom and all of its accouterments. She had a nice makeup counter, and a hair dryer, which she used to bring her flaming red hair to a smooth shine. She was light with the makeup, as she usually was, favoring skin care over concealers. She dabbed some eyeliner and lip gloss on, and considered the job finished.
“Where is your stuff?” she asked him, noting the lack of masculine items on the counter.
“This is your bathroom,” he responded. “The bedroom attached will be yours once you’ve earned the privilege of leaving the cage on a regular basis.”
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Her clothing had slots cut into the backs for access to the handle of her harness, and Ian gripped it and led her from the bathroom back to the great room where a beautiful woman, older than Clara, was seated on the sofa with long, slender legs crossed in a graceful, feminine manner. Her clothing looked expensive, as did her hairstyle. She showed not a trace of plastic surgery. She smiled wide, displaying straight, white teeth, and stood up to greet them. “Ian!”
Clara felt a tug on her harness pulling her back toward Ian ever so slightly. He was not pleased, she concluded, and he was instinctively protecting Clara from her.
“Brooke,” Ian said, masking the terseness Clara could swear she detected in his voice. “I thought we were going to see each other next weekend.”
Brooke stood and approached them, sizing Clara up with her eyes. She appeared to be unwrapping a gift she was particularly excited to receive. She grasped Clara by the upper arms and pulled her in for an involuntary hug. “I know,” Brooke said, “but I just wanted to catch a quick glimpse of the new addition.” She stood back to survey Clara once again. Clara felt humiliated to be seen in such youthful attire in front of this elegant woman to. l and she felt her feminine sense of competitiveness bubbling up. Clara looked back to Ian for cues on how to conduct herself. The cropped, black beard he wore did little to conceal the firm set his jaw had taken. He was making no move to release his grasp on her harness or give her slack in her stance.
Brooke’s eyes sparkled with delight. Ian did not want his pet to witness him catering to Brooke. The dynamics were different with her – Clara would never be permitted to seize control of a situation like this. But as his fiancé, Brooke had far more leeway.
He introduced them formally and explained to Clara that although Brooke had no authority over her, she was to be treated as the lady of the house and honored as such. When Ian was not present, the house was her domain.
“Is she really fertile?” Brooke asked Ian. “She must have cost a fortune!”
Ian smiled. “I certainly did exhaust some rather steep resources to obtain my new pet.”
“Ten years with her!” Brooke said. “How wonderful! You really spoil me Ian! Well, you’re spoiling both of us.” She turned to Clara and reached her slender, perfectly manicured hand out to cup Clara’s chin. “And you are so beautiful, Clara! My sweet, sweet girl!”
Clara paled and opened her mouth to protest but Ian cast her a warning glance. “I’ll send her back downstairs where I’m conducting her training and you and I can have a nice breakfast together,” he said, and called for security to escort Clara by the harness back to the laboratory.
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“He thinks I’m going to run,” Clara said warmly to the guard when they left the residence. It was a good strategy, she figured, to befriend the guards and any employees she encountered since clearly, they were on his side and were told to be on the lookout for her.
The guard held her securely and replied, “Your Master is doing what he thinks is best to protect you. I’d probably do the same until I had a better handle on the situation.” He steered her toward the elevator. “I understand you don’t want to be here.”
Clara waved her hand dismissively. “I know he’s just doing what he thinks is in my best interest, but he thinks I’m going to run. I’m not going to run of course. What good would that do me?”
The guard, who identified himself as Officer Craig, chuckled. “You wouldn’t get far, that’s for sure! The local police have all been made aware of your circumstances, and you’d just get time added to your contract if you fail to convince the Bureau of Indentured Service that Mr. Kline is abusing you. Which of course, he is not.”
“There, you see?” Clara said with a friendly tone. “I’m certainly not going to run away.” After a short pause, Clara said, “Honestly, his efforts actually make me feel safer. He knew I was hesitant to come here, and he went through a lot of trouble to create a safe environment for me that would help me acclimate on my own terms. Maybe he’s not going to be such a bad Master after all.” Uttering the word Master bothered her, but she needed to gain credibility and convince the security staff that she was behaving.
They stepped onto the elevator and Officer Craig smiled. “He protected you from the viper in his living room.”
“Ms. Brooke? Oh. Should I watch out for her?”
“Just give her what she wants and remember her position in life. She’s very well connected.”
When the doors to the elevator slid open, Clara took the lead and the guard permitted it with his hand still firmly on her harness. She led him down the stairs and directly to the kitchenette where he finally released her and watched her gather items for a meal.
“My Master told me to fix myself some breakfast.” The security guard stayed with her as they discussed the sports teams WERT had mentioned. That subject hooked him and he was freely telling her the highlights of the recent NFL game where the Vandals crushed their opposing team. “My Master was supposed to feed me upstairs, but Ms. Brooke arrived so he told me to eat down here. Do you want anything? I was going to make eggs and some bacon if it’s in the fridge.”
The guard smiled, and declined the food, but he stayed with her as she busied herself preparing her breakfast. She moved freely about the floor and entertained him with conversation. She learned that he was approved to raise a child if he married a woman who was also approved, and he was on a special dating app just for people who had passed the screening process. The waiting list would be 10 years or more.
“Am I required to lock her in the cage, WERT?” Officer Craig asked when Clara had finished her breakfast.
“Clara’s rules stipulate that she is not to leave the laboratory floor without Mr. Kline. No rules exist about the cage,” WERT intoned.
“I’ll be fine,” Clara said, cleaning dishes and setting them to dry. “WERT will sound the alarm if I set one foot on those stairs.”
WERT nodded his head in agreement.
Her ploy worked, and officer Craig left Clara on the laboratory floor, outside of her cage. She wouldn’t dare approach the stairs, but she darted around the laboratory floor, looking for exits, and examining the engineering projects left out on the work tables. The tunnels she found had no exit points, leading only to dead-ends. As she explored, Clara fumed inwardly at the secret motive Ian had in bringing her here. She was not going to carry babies for this man. No way! The urgency to escape had been amplified.
“Your Master is coming. You should kneel for him,” the robot informed her. Clara’s eyebrows shot up and she bolted for the cage. Escape would not be happening on this day, but she'd made a good dent in mapping her surroundings. She quickly closed herself into the cage, positioned the kneeling cushion on the floor and waited for Ian. The elevator dinged and Ian made a beeline for the railing so he could look in and make sure Clara was where she should be. His face registered his relief when he saw his pet was secured in her cage.
“Good job, pet,” he said, trotting down the stairs. The collar dangling above her head descended a few more inches. “You used the kitchen?”
That was stupid, she thought. Why didn't I dry the dishes and put them away? “Yes, Sir. Officer Craig, your guard, stayed with me while I made myself some breakfast.” Ian accepted her answer without further inquiry and he let himself into her cage to sit in the recliner.
“Come here, pet,” he urged her, patting his lap. She scooted close and he guided her to rest her head on his knees as he stroked her long, flaming hair. “I'm very pleased to find you where you were supposed to be, and even kneeling for me.”
Clara nodded her head. She wasn’t sure why, but his praise felt good and she felt a twinge of guilt for deceiving him; but just a twinge. He did have a fiancé that he had neglected to mention to her, after all. And he had kidnapped her! She momentarily forgot the fact that she had been kidnapped!
“I had meant to have breakfast with you, and I'm sorry Brooke showed up unannounced. I was not ready for you two to interact. I spoke with her about letting you acclimate before she gets to know you better. She agreed to give you some space.”
“Great,” Clara said without enthusiasm.
He paused stroking her hair and asked, “Pet, are you feeling jealous?”
She looked up at him, deadpan. “Am I jealous of my kidnapper’s intended? No, Sir. It is still my intention to find my way out of here and get back home.”
He placated her with some cooing sounds and resumed stroking her hair.
“Sir, I don’t want to be your broodmare,” Clara finally said.
“I would never make you carry a baby against your will, pet. Brooke doesn’t understand that you’re not from here. She assumes if you’re fertile and indentured, breeding is your purpose.” Of course, Ian thought, she would indeed be having children for him. He just wouldn't force it; he wouldn't need to.
“That’s disgusting,” Clara said. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was feeling at that moment, but the reassurance from Ian was comforting.
“My world has a serious problem, pet,” Ian said to her.
Clara looked up to him.
“We don’t have nearly enough fertile females to replace our population. We tinkered with medicine and created a global disaster.”
Clara nodded her head. She had understood as much. “I read in our contract that if I don’t please you sexually, I could be put to work in another capacity. Is that one of the capacities that I could end up working in?”
Ian nodded his head. “Technically, but I won’t let that happen to you. You’re mine, and you will not displease me.”
Clara laid her head back on Ian’s lap and allowed herself to enjoy the comforting strokes he resumed on her hair.
Of course, he could never allow anyone to know that she came from another world. Only a few people in his innermost circle knew the success of his mining operation depended on an off-world workforce who was all too happy to work for basic medical care. Do patents extend to other worlds? Ian thought not, so what he was doing was perfectly legit.
He did not want his government discovering his technology yet, though the potential resource of breedable females from other worlds might eventually warrant him revealing his hand to save his population. For now, he was content to have a fertile female of his own. His business partners would likely want one as well, and that would happen when the time was right.
WERT’s information about Clara’s progress displayed in his neural interface and the robot’s report scrolled across his field of vision as if he was looking at a computer monitor. His little pet had cursed right after he left for the night, but he was pleased to learn that her behavior was otherwise decent. Ian had set her bedtime at 10:30 PM and she tried to convince WERT to not turn the TV off after she got engaged with a baking show on the Food Nation network, arguing that “Mr. Kline didn’t need to know about it.” But the report also indicated that she didn’t put up any further argument when WERT turned the lights and TV off at 10:30 sharp.
He sat down on Clara’s bed and watched his new pet sleeping peacefully. He considered the curvy, toned figure, ample breasts, and slender limbs that tapered off to nimble hands and small feet hidden beneath the blankets, shrouding her. Her ivory skin and full lips were delicate, unique and almost angelic .
“Good morning, my beautiful pet,” Ian said to Clara as he gently stroked her red hair. She hadn’t noticed him enter the cage or sit down on her bed, but her eyes opened when she felt his hand. She smiled at Ian with sparkling eyes for just a second before her face turned sour.
“Oh wait!” she said as her circumstances returned to her memory. “You kidnapped me!” She kneed him in the side.
“Oh, I bet you’d have preferred to smack my face, or punch me, instead of impotently kneeing me. But, pet, you were a bad girl yesterday and you lost the use of your hands.”
Clara scowled at him and he smiled back.
“Jerk,” she said.
WERT flashed red and Ian raised his hand. “Jerk is permitted,” he said to the robot as he chuckled and rubbed his side. He returned his attention to Clara.
“I’m pleased with you for downgrading me from an asshole to jerk. Well done, pet.” He pointed skyward and Clara watched the collar descend a few more inches. She rolled over in bed facing away from him.
“I was having a perfectly nice dream about you teasing me with promises of chastity and helping me with math. That’s the Ian Kline I was falling for.”
“Ahhh, but little pet, this is the Ian Kline you got. Oh, and I’ll still be helping you with math. Clara-Jane had a completed degree in medical technology that I’ll need to catch you up on. I’ll also support a second degree in nursing if that’s still your preference, but I can’t have you running around being unfamiliar with your first degree.”
“What is medical technology?”
“You’ll be trained on this world’s latest medical advances and you’ll work with patients and doctors by reviewing charts and recommending treatments.”
“That actually sounds really cool,” she said. “What is my day going to look like?”
“First thing is first, we’re going to go upstairs and get you a shower and an enema.”
Clara didn’t like things being shoved up her backside and an enema felt deeply personal. She didn’t want to do it at all, and especially not with him watching. “What else are we doing today?”
“We’ll have breakfast upstairs in my residence, and if you’re good, I might let you sit on the patio for a bit. The weather is really nice. If you’re really well behaved, I’ll take you for a walk around the property.”
“You’re not afraid I’ll try to run?” Clara asked.
“You’ll be wearing a harness, pet. I won’t be taking any chances with you until you’re trained and collared. Even then, you’ll be restricted for your own safety. I should advise you that my security team knows you’re here reluctantly and that you’re a flight risk.”
“Oh good,” Clara said sarcastically. “I wouldn’t want to feel that I stole my freedom back from you by having slipped past untrained guards when I break free and run home.”
Ian kissed her forehead. “You’re not going home, pet.”
“I am going home,” she reaffirmed.
Ian just smiled and pulled the blanket down. He rolled her over onto belly and slid her nighty up to her waist revealing her bruised backside. “Am I in trouble?”
“I’m not going to spank you, but there is the matter of the language infraction. WERT reported that you had a choice comment to make last night after I left. We’ll take care of that soon.” Ian gently ran his hands across the globes of her ass, assessing the bruising. “No more spankings until you’re all healed,” he declared. He released the chain that connected her wrists, and she rolled over, lifting her hips again when he told her to. Ian laid a network of straps beneath her, then clicked them closed around her waist. Clara could feel the magnets on the two ends of the straps and she understood the technology that was likely at play. It was a perfect fit for her, just as the chastity cup had been, and it dawned on her in that moment that if his story of an alternate universe was true, then these items were likely made for Clara-Jane. Two additional straps fit around her thighs and four more crossed her belly and ass connecting the thigh bands to the belt. She looked down to inspect herself when he was done connecting everything.
The harness was constructed of a flexible golden mesh so fine that one could mistake it at first glance for fabric. The straps were soft on the side against her skin, lined with some material she couldn’t identify. The thigh bands joined to the waistband, preventing her from pulling up on the belt, while her generous hips prevented it from being pushed down. A mesh handle on the back along with some rings on either side gave Ian a firm, controlling grip on her body and an anchor to which he could apply chains or tethers. Why is this turning me on? she asked herself as she felt her pussy flood and throb with need.
Ian patted her thigh. “Go ahead and get yourself into your high-protocol position.”
Clara groaned but she got out of bed, found the cushion, and knelt on the pillow. She separated her knees wide for him, giving him a nice view of the chastity cup that was attached to her pussy, and she gripped her elbows behind her back. She straightened her back and tipped her chin up to look at him.
Ian nodded in acknowledgement and produced the paper box with the soap in it. He lathered up the cake in the sink and held it out to her. “Open up.”
“No please,” Clara immediately begged, leaning back, away from the offered soap. “You said you were pleased with my efforts with language. Can’t we skip this?”
“Absolutely not, pet. You’ll get firm, consistent discipline from me across the board. You’ll feel safer knowing what to expect from me. Now open up,” he said, holding the bar of soap to her lips.
Clara looked down at the bar dripping bubbles from Ian’s hand. She shook her head. “It’ll make me sick.”
“It won’t make you sick. It’s designed to go in your mouth and can even be swallowed. You’re safe, pet. I wouldn’t do anything to you that would harm you.” He pushed the bar against her closed mouth and as soapy liquid reached the crack of her lips, she got a preview of what was to come. “Open up right now. This is your final warning.”
“Please,” Clara pleaded through clenched teeth. Ian just looked at her and she finally opened her mouth. The bar was shoved in about three-quarters of the way and Clara immediately started gagging. The taste was truly horrible and tears welled up in her eyes. She was instructed to bite into it and close her lips around it.
“You have 15 minutes with the soap. Don’t move your hands or otherwise attempt to remove it. Nod your head if you understand my expectations.”
Clara nodded her head. Tears spilled down her cheeks and the sounds of gagging occasionally disrupted her silence. The bar of soap continued to bubble forcing suds to escape past her lips, drip down her chin and slide down the back of her throat. She reached to wipe her face with her hand, but Ian reminded her that she was not permitted to move. She was forced to sit there, kneeling in her high protocol position with bubbles spilling from her mouth and dripping down to her breasts, soaking her nighty.
After what felt like an hour, Ian reached forward, gripping the bar. She readily released it and he disposed of the remnants. More than half the bar that was in her mouth had disintegrated into suds. “How do you feel?” Ian asked her, handing her a wet cloth.
She wiped herself. “That was horrible,” she admitted. “What kind of sick, sadistic fuc-- person came up with that?”
Ian laughed. “In this culture, we readily use punishment to correct people. As you said, real soap is really unhealthy. Everything in punishment soap is edible. The experience is miserable, but you won’t get sick.”
“Can I rinse?” Clara asked, eying the sink in her water closet.
“Absolutely not.”
Clara growled at Ian as he left her cage to get clothes from her dresser. Into a bag, he placed some lacy panties and a bra, a short, pleated skirt, a shirt that looked a little too childish for Clara’s tastes, a pair of Mary Janes, thigh-high stockings, and some toiletries. Finally he added a baby blue plaid woolen poncho-style shawl.
“Do you like the outfit I selected for you?”
“Not really,” she admitted. “I’m 25 years old. I’m an adult. That outfit looks too young for me.”
“In this world, you’re barely an adult. I told you that I was 32, but I’m actually 45. I will likely look this young through 70 or 80 years of age. You’ll meet a lot of people who are much older than they appear by your standards. Our medical advancements are superior to those in your world. At 25 years old, you’re practically a child.”
“What is the legal age of consent here?” Clara asked.
“She hadn’t noticed it until he utilized it, but the nighty she wore had a slit in the back to allow for the handle of her harness to be pulled through. “20,” Ian replied, as he ushered Clara out of her cage, gripping the handle on her harness tightly and keeping her close to his body. “For indentured servitude it’s 23, and sexual slavery is 25.” As they waited for the elevator, Clara tried to peer around the bend in the direction of the blue lights she’d seen yesterday, but all she could see were large hoses and wires, leading to what she did not know.
“I have security on my property 24 hours a day, as I told you earlier,” he explained to her when they stepped onto the elevator. “My guards have been advised that you are adjusting to your period of slavery somewhat poorly and that you might attempt to run, or say something in an effort to convince them that you are being held illegally.” He pulled Clara a little closer to him and spoke sternly to her. “If you put me in a position where I have to act, you can be assured that I will make an impressive display of control over you, both for the benefit of my security staff and also for you.”
She looked at him wide-eyed and the elevator dinged and opened to reveal a glass-enclosed lobby with a view of the mountains in the region she knew as West Virginia. With gentle guidance, he steered her out of the elevator. “What is this place?” Clara asked, noting the empty area and unstaffed front desk. Outside of the lobby windows, she could see a mostly empty parking lot and combined with the rising sun, she surmised that the work day was several hours away.
“I run my mining business from here. This area leads into the administrative offices,” Ian said, showing her a set of glass doors before he directed her to a glassed-in walkway. “My private residence is this way.” They stepped into what Clara could best describe as a skybridge, but the bridge only went over a river. Ian let her stop to admire the water and the mountains in the background.
“It’s beautiful!” she said. “It’s like a patchwork quilt of autumn colors has been thrown over the mountains. This is your house?” Clara asked, spying the one-story structure that appeared to be made of wood and stone.
He nudged her forward and they entered through a set of double doors into the residence where his home was decorated with natural finishings and modern furniture. The ceiling was high and vaulted, made of warm, caramel-colored wood. Smoothed river rocks formed the hearth and chimney, and gray and brown flagstone covered the floors. A cream-colored sofa atop a rug of a darker color centered the great room and the kitchen looked freshly remodeled with a simple design of clean lines and hidden appliances. Floor to ceiling windows in the great room and kitchen brought in the picture-perfect mountains making the home simply spectacular.
“Home system, arm the alarm and set the temperature to 25 degrees in the northern bathroom.” He gave Clara a wink, “That’s 77 of your degrees. I want a warm pet fresh from the shower.” A chime echoed through the living space of the home and Clara noticed a discreet red light illuminated at the door and each window. Clearly, slipping out of the house would trigger the alarm.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said warmly as he guided her down a corridor to what she assumed was the home’s primary bedroom. The ensuite brought the outside into the shower with one glass wall. Smooth gray stones made up the other walls and the same flagstone from the rest of the house carried into the bathroom and shower.
Clara noticed the enema bag was waiting for her along with some fluffy towels and a robe. “I know it’s going to feel weird at first, but the weirdness will eventually give way to normalcy.” He set the canvas tote he’d filled with her clothing and toiletries down and she disrobed at his direction while he filled the enema bag with warm water.
She stood before him wearing the harness and chastity cup, and she held her hand over her breasts. Ian gently moved her limbs to her side and told her to get down on all fours on the water proof mat he had arranged for her. From behind he gently stroked her hip and the outside of her thigh like she was a prize horse. The bar buried between her cheeks was released and the anal plug was carefully removed. Ian had disconnected the bar from the chastity cup and set it down before he got to work. He dipped his left finger into a jar of petroleum jelly and withdrew a dollop of lubricant. The first dollop was spread on the nozzle of the enema tube and the second was brought behind her, out of view. “I’ll be gentle, pet,” he said as he pressed his finger against her rosebud, which she tightened in protest. Her skin pinkened in humiliation as his finger carefully invaded her most private spot.
“You need to relax, pet. Take a few deep breaths,” he told her. With careful, seesawing motions, Ian inserted his finger in and out, going deeper each time. “I’m all the way in, pet. You’re doing great.” His finger was buried up to the knuckle in her ass and he moved it around, pumping it in and out and wiggling it from time to time.
“Even with the plug, you’re still so tight, pet!” The nozzle to the enema went in next and it slid into place easily after he loosened her up with his finger. Warm water sloshed into her body and rushed to her belly as the bag emptied into her. She tensed up at the sensation and the invasiveness of the procedure, but there was nothing painful so she remained calm. Ian ran a hand up and down her back until the bag was empty and he removed the nozzle.
“You can lay on your side if you’re more comfortable. You’ll hold the water for 10 minutes and then you can release it.” She nodded her head and lowered herself to her side, laying on the mat. Any position was better than all fours.
After 10 minutes, Ian announced, “The toilet is over there.” He gestured to a closed door. “Keep the door open.”
“Keep the door open?” Clara asked in horror. “No! This is private!”
“Open,” he repeated in a firm tone.
Clara rushed to the water closet and closed the door all but one inch. “All the way open!” she heard him holler at her. She ignored him and evacuated her bowels in semi-privacy. She flushed, and returned to face Ian.
Ian directed her to get back onto all fours on the mat. “Your directions were too difficult for you to follow as given. I’m going to assist you so you don’t make the same mistake again.” With a tool he had stored nearby, Ian popped the pins out of the door hinge and eased the door off the side jamb. Clara was slack jawed. She had not expected him to do that, but in hindsight, that was the exact move he’d make. He did literally kidnap her, bar her from her own sex, soap her mouth, and cuff her hands behind her back because she grabbed the bars at dinner time. Why wouldn’t he have responded to her small act of defiance like this?
He had her position herself to repeat the process, and Ian explained that generally he would give her as many as it took to get her cleaned out and comfortable with the process.
“You haven’t earned privacy, pet,” he told her when she sat down on the toilet in full view to evacuate her bowels. Blushing from head to toe, she buried her face in her hands as she took care of her business.
“I hate you, Ian!”
“That’s, ‘I hate you, Master!’”
“I hate you, Sir.”
“If you truly hated me, pet, I don’t think your nipples would be so hard.”
She looked down at her breasts. Mortified, she covered the taut little rocks with her hands.
Ian turned on the water in the shower and when Clara finished up on the toilet, she padded on bare feet across the heated stone floor to the large shower. The water was already hot, and the spacious shower was warm in spite of its size thanks to steam vents that made the corners as toasty as the center where the water focused.
Ian turned on a second shower head and joined her under the waterfall. She jumped a little when she felt his hands wrap around her midsection, but there was probably no point in playing coy at this point. She’d slept with him, sucked him off, and he’s seen every last inch of her body already. Besides, she wasn’t actually afraid of Ian; she was just pissed at him and she wanted very much for him to admit his alternate universe story was a lie and let her go home.
Her thoughts were effectively distracted when Ian smoothed his lathered, masculine hands over her body, rubbing them in circles over her belly and then under and over her breasts. She sucked her breath in as his hands teased her nipples and thumbed them into further hardness. He soaped her shoulders and arms, and her neck before he ran his hands firmly over her hips, legs and finally her feet, working around the harness that he didn’t trust her to release her from. “I’ll clean under your cup last. For now, it's your turn, pet. Wash your Master.”
Wash my Sir, she corrected in her mind, oblivious to the concession she’d just made. He did not provide washcloths, so she worked the lather into her hands, and realized that the intent was to have their hands all over each other. I see what you did there, she thought as she placed her soapy palms on Ian’s muscular chest. He was so warm and hard, she thought to herself as she rubbed her hands across his taut skin. She exhaled, admiring his form and he knew from the look in her eyes that she was at the very least attracted to him.
“Legs,” he directed her when she had finished his torso and arms. After soaping up his long, lean legs, Clara was directed to clean his cock and balls. When she was finished lathering him, his cock had grown hard and he gently took her hands and placed them on his shaft, explaining to her how he liked to be stroked. He grew even harder under her ministrations and he directed her to raise her hands and approach the wall of the shower. She had overlooked a ring and short chain that had been bolted into the stone wall when she first glanced at the shower, but there it was, and Ian was securing her wrists to the short tether. “Stick your ass out and widen your stance for me,” Ian told her firmly.
“Yes, Sir,” she muttered as she took a step backward and leaned into the wall, effectively presenting her ass to him. He reached between her legs, grabbed the cup, and removed it, setting it down in the running water to give it a good rinse. Soapy, masculine hands reached down to massage suds into her sex and then her ass before lining his cock up against her pussy. He grabbed her hips and eased himself into her, moaning as his cock was enveloped with her tight, slippery softness.
“You feel amazing,” he uttered in a husky voice into her ear when he was fully within her. “And I can tell I feel just as good to you,” he said. She was giving herself away to him by contracting her pussy muscles around his shaft. She couldn’t help it; he really did feel good and she had desperately needed a cock in her since he locked her in that infernal contraption that left her constantly horny and unable to find relief.
“You feel good,” she begrudgingly conceded as he pumped in and out of her, inspiring her to moan and meet his thrusts. She couldn’t help herself. She had been kept in a state of abject denial for too long. Clara placed her hands flat against the wall to stabilize herself and allowed herself to enjoy Ian’s rhythmic thrusts.
“Oh my goodness,” she whispered as she noticed her body starting to brace for an orgasm. He noticed it too and he withdrew from her just in time to prevent her climax.
“What are you doing?” she cried out, seeking his cock by shifting her position in an effort to rejoin their sexes. “Ian, please!” she begged. “I was so close!” He grabbed his cock in one hand and held her hips close to him with the other while he pumped himself vigorously, spilling ropes of thick fluid on her lower back. “Nooooo!” she cried out.
“You need to give me one more orgasm before you’ve earned one for yourself, pet,” Ian told her softly, as he reached around and stroked her breasts. “You did a good job with this one, though, so I’m happy to count it toward your requirement.” Clara stomped her foot as Ian put the chastity cup back, sinking a larger plug into her ass.
Ian sat with her when she was finished showering and he allowed her to explore the bathroom and all of its accouterments. She had a nice makeup counter, and a hair dryer, which she used to bring her flaming red hair to a smooth shine. She was light with the makeup, as she usually was, favoring skin care over concealers. She dabbed some eyeliner and lip gloss on, and considered the job finished.
“Where is your stuff?” she asked him, noting the lack of masculine items on the counter.
“This is your bathroom,” he responded. “The bedroom attached will be yours once you’ve earned the privilege of leaving the cage on a regular basis.”
=====
Her clothing had slots cut into the backs for access to the handle of her harness, and Ian gripped it and led her from the bathroom back to the great room where a beautiful woman, older than Clara, was seated on the sofa with long, slender legs crossed in a graceful, feminine manner. Her clothing looked expensive, as did her hairstyle. She showed not a trace of plastic surgery. She smiled wide, displaying straight, white teeth, and stood up to greet them. “Ian!”
Clara felt a tug on her harness pulling her back toward Ian ever so slightly. He was not pleased, she concluded, and he was instinctively protecting Clara from her.
“Brooke,” Ian said, masking the terseness Clara could swear she detected in his voice. “I thought we were going to see each other next weekend.”
Brooke stood and approached them, sizing Clara up with her eyes. She appeared to be unwrapping a gift she was particularly excited to receive. She grasped Clara by the upper arms and pulled her in for an involuntary hug. “I know,” Brooke said, “but I just wanted to catch a quick glimpse of the new addition.” She stood back to survey Clara once again. Clara felt humiliated to be seen in such youthful attire in front of this elegant woman to. l and she felt her feminine sense of competitiveness bubbling up. Clara looked back to Ian for cues on how to conduct herself. The cropped, black beard he wore did little to conceal the firm set his jaw had taken. He was making no move to release his grasp on her harness or give her slack in her stance.
Brooke’s eyes sparkled with delight. Ian did not want his pet to witness him catering to Brooke. The dynamics were different with her – Clara would never be permitted to seize control of a situation like this. But as his fiancé, Brooke had far more leeway.
He introduced them formally and explained to Clara that although Brooke had no authority over her, she was to be treated as the lady of the house and honored as such. When Ian was not present, the house was her domain.
“Is she really fertile?” Brooke asked Ian. “She must have cost a fortune!”
Ian smiled. “I certainly did exhaust some rather steep resources to obtain my new pet.”
“Ten years with her!” Brooke said. “How wonderful! You really spoil me Ian! Well, you’re spoiling both of us.” She turned to Clara and reached her slender, perfectly manicured hand out to cup Clara’s chin. “And you are so beautiful, Clara! My sweet, sweet girl!”
Clara paled and opened her mouth to protest but Ian cast her a warning glance. “I’ll send her back downstairs where I’m conducting her training and you and I can have a nice breakfast together,” he said, and called for security to escort Clara by the harness back to the laboratory.
=====
“He thinks I’m going to run,” Clara said warmly to the guard when they left the residence. It was a good strategy, she figured, to befriend the guards and any employees she encountered since clearly, they were on his side and were told to be on the lookout for her.
The guard held her securely and replied, “Your Master is doing what he thinks is best to protect you. I’d probably do the same until I had a better handle on the situation.” He steered her toward the elevator. “I understand you don’t want to be here.”
Clara waved her hand dismissively. “I know he’s just doing what he thinks is in my best interest, but he thinks I’m going to run. I’m not going to run of course. What good would that do me?”
The guard, who identified himself as Officer Craig, chuckled. “You wouldn’t get far, that’s for sure! The local police have all been made aware of your circumstances, and you’d just get time added to your contract if you fail to convince the Bureau of Indentured Service that Mr. Kline is abusing you. Which of course, he is not.”
“There, you see?” Clara said with a friendly tone. “I’m certainly not going to run away.” After a short pause, Clara said, “Honestly, his efforts actually make me feel safer. He knew I was hesitant to come here, and he went through a lot of trouble to create a safe environment for me that would help me acclimate on my own terms. Maybe he’s not going to be such a bad Master after all.” Uttering the word Master bothered her, but she needed to gain credibility and convince the security staff that she was behaving.
They stepped onto the elevator and Officer Craig smiled. “He protected you from the viper in his living room.”
“Ms. Brooke? Oh. Should I watch out for her?”
“Just give her what she wants and remember her position in life. She’s very well connected.”
When the doors to the elevator slid open, Clara took the lead and the guard permitted it with his hand still firmly on her harness. She led him down the stairs and directly to the kitchenette where he finally released her and watched her gather items for a meal.
“My Master told me to fix myself some breakfast.” The security guard stayed with her as they discussed the sports teams WERT had mentioned. That subject hooked him and he was freely telling her the highlights of the recent NFL game where the Vandals crushed their opposing team. “My Master was supposed to feed me upstairs, but Ms. Brooke arrived so he told me to eat down here. Do you want anything? I was going to make eggs and some bacon if it’s in the fridge.”
The guard smiled, and declined the food, but he stayed with her as she busied herself preparing her breakfast. She moved freely about the floor and entertained him with conversation. She learned that he was approved to raise a child if he married a woman who was also approved, and he was on a special dating app just for people who had passed the screening process. The waiting list would be 10 years or more.
“Am I required to lock her in the cage, WERT?” Officer Craig asked when Clara had finished her breakfast.
“Clara’s rules stipulate that she is not to leave the laboratory floor without Mr. Kline. No rules exist about the cage,” WERT intoned.
“I’ll be fine,” Clara said, cleaning dishes and setting them to dry. “WERT will sound the alarm if I set one foot on those stairs.”
WERT nodded his head in agreement.
Her ploy worked, and officer Craig left Clara on the laboratory floor, outside of her cage. She wouldn’t dare approach the stairs, but she darted around the laboratory floor, looking for exits, and examining the engineering projects left out on the work tables. The tunnels she found had no exit points, leading only to dead-ends. As she explored, Clara fumed inwardly at the secret motive Ian had in bringing her here. She was not going to carry babies for this man. No way! The urgency to escape had been amplified.
“Your Master is coming. You should kneel for him,” the robot informed her. Clara’s eyebrows shot up and she bolted for the cage. Escape would not be happening on this day, but she'd made a good dent in mapping her surroundings. She quickly closed herself into the cage, positioned the kneeling cushion on the floor and waited for Ian. The elevator dinged and Ian made a beeline for the railing so he could look in and make sure Clara was where she should be. His face registered his relief when he saw his pet was secured in her cage.
“Good job, pet,” he said, trotting down the stairs. The collar dangling above her head descended a few more inches. “You used the kitchen?”
That was stupid, she thought. Why didn't I dry the dishes and put them away? “Yes, Sir. Officer Craig, your guard, stayed with me while I made myself some breakfast.” Ian accepted her answer without further inquiry and he let himself into her cage to sit in the recliner.
“Come here, pet,” he urged her, patting his lap. She scooted close and he guided her to rest her head on his knees as he stroked her long, flaming hair. “I'm very pleased to find you where you were supposed to be, and even kneeling for me.”
Clara nodded her head. She wasn’t sure why, but his praise felt good and she felt a twinge of guilt for deceiving him; but just a twinge. He did have a fiancé that he had neglected to mention to her, after all. And he had kidnapped her! She momentarily forgot the fact that she had been kidnapped!
“I had meant to have breakfast with you, and I'm sorry Brooke showed up unannounced. I was not ready for you two to interact. I spoke with her about letting you acclimate before she gets to know you better. She agreed to give you some space.”
“Great,” Clara said without enthusiasm.
He paused stroking her hair and asked, “Pet, are you feeling jealous?”
She looked up at him, deadpan. “Am I jealous of my kidnapper’s intended? No, Sir. It is still my intention to find my way out of here and get back home.”
He placated her with some cooing sounds and resumed stroking her hair.
“Sir, I don’t want to be your broodmare,” Clara finally said.
“I would never make you carry a baby against your will, pet. Brooke doesn’t understand that you’re not from here. She assumes if you’re fertile and indentured, breeding is your purpose.” Of course, Ian thought, she would indeed be having children for him. He just wouldn't force it; he wouldn't need to.
“That’s disgusting,” Clara said. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was feeling at that moment, but the reassurance from Ian was comforting.
“My world has a serious problem, pet,” Ian said to her.
Clara looked up to him.
“We don’t have nearly enough fertile females to replace our population. We tinkered with medicine and created a global disaster.”
Clara nodded her head. She had understood as much. “I read in our contract that if I don’t please you sexually, I could be put to work in another capacity. Is that one of the capacities that I could end up working in?”
Ian nodded his head. “Technically, but I won’t let that happen to you. You’re mine, and you will not displease me.”
Clara laid her head back on Ian’s lap and allowed herself to enjoy the comforting strokes he resumed on her hair.