Urban Prey Page 3

  “You seem to have all of this planned out.”

  “We’ve had years of experience. We also have an edge. They don’t come to us unless they already want it, at some level.” Carla chuckled. “We help them find new levels.”

  “What do you do if you don’t have a repeat client available?”

  “We have that covered also,” Carla answered. “We use a ringer then.”

  “A ringer?”

  “Yes. We have some very attractive women working for us. They pose as clients and go through everything that our clients do. They help to nudge them along in the right direction. They can also keep things from going beyond what the clients can handle at the moment.”

  “How rough does it get for them here?”

  “Oh,” she shrugged. “It all depends. For the freshmen and sophomores, it never gets all that rough: Spankings, mild whippings, putting them in some discomfort to make them more pliable…” She paused. “It can get pretty raw for the rest of them, depending on what they say they want and what we think they can take. That’s why we always have a doctor here, just in case.” Another pause, and then she smiled. “But come, let me show you the rest of the facility.”

  “I’d like that. It’s been interesting so far.”

  “I should tell you I started here as a ringer myself.” Carla took his arm again as they left the little observation room.

  “Did you?” Ron looked at her. She was smiling, but not at him. Her expression was as if she was fondly remembering something.

  “Oh, yes,” she nodded. “I was looking for a more…exciting career at the time.”

  “What had you been doing up until then?”

  “I was the head teller at a bank. Good pay, good benefits and it was as boring as could be.”

  Chapter Three

  “So, now what?” Ron asked. “What’s next on the tour?”

  “Well,” Carla said, “All we have on the ground floor is the initial processing. Most of the…real action takes place on the second and third floors.”

  “The fourth floor is empty, then?”

  “No. We use the fourth floor. Part of it has been turned into small apartments. The staff uses them at times. The rest has a few specialty rooms taking up most of the space, along with a number of small suites, much like an inexpensive hotel.”

  “Specialty rooms?”

  “Yes,” Carla’s smile was a little crooked. “I’ll show you those too. “But first, let’s have a look at the second floor, shall we?”

  “All right. How do we get there?”

  “We have stairs, but I prefer to use the elevator. It’s this way.”

  The elevator wasn’t cramped, but it was certainly small. During the short ride up to the second floor, Carla leaned back in a corner and smiled up at Ron. Given how much physical contact she’d made up to now, this was confusing. Then, still smiling, she pointed up at the roof of the car. “Part of our security system here includes surveillance cameras for all the elevators and stairways,” she said.

  He looked up, but he couldn’t see anything but the plastic screening covering the fluorescent lights. “They hide them pretty well,” he commented.

  “Most of the cameras are quite small,” Carla cocked her head to one side, still looking at him, still smiling. For a moment, he felt like a wildebeest that had just noticed that a lioness was sizing him up. She went on. “Unless you know just where to look, you won’t find them.”

  “This is very different from what I’m used to,” he said. The elevator stopped with a gentle bump.

  “I’d be very interested to hear what you are used to,” Carla said as the door slid open. “But first, the rest of our tour. This way.” She stepped out of the elevator and turned right. As he followed her, he took a quick look to the left. Either way he looked, there was nothing but a long hallway, carpeted, the walls painted a pale yellow. He could see some metal doors with brass numbers on them, all of them along the same side of the hallway.

  “Where are we?” he asked.

  “We call this the Ring,” Carla answered. “It runs all the way around the second floor facilities.”

  “So, you can access any part of the second floor from here?”

  “Yes. It’s quite convenient. We have the same arrangement on the third floor.”

  Carla was still smiling at him, but now she was keeping a more professional distance from him. Had he done something wrong? He thought back and couldn’t think of anything. Then it dawned on him. He’d been working for the company for so long that he’d forgotten how things worked on the outside. Carla had let him know that she was interested and available. Now it was his turn to let her know if he was likewise interested, and make a move. That much he could grasp, but he had absolutely no idea what he should say or do now.

  Carla’s smile faded. He realized that he’d been just standing there for a bit too long.

  “Is something wrong?” Carla asked.

  “Yes, with me,” Ron shook his head. “I’m afraid I’ve gotten very rusty with my people skills.”

  “Really?” An eyebrow went up.

  “Yes, really. You’re a very attractive woman, and I’m standing here feeling like a teenaged boy on his first date. I just do not know what to do next.”

  Carla looked puzzled at first. He could almost hear the gears clicking in her head. He saw understanding dawn in her eyes.

  “Oh, my!” Her hand went to her mouth. “You’re serious!”

  “Absolutely,” he admitted. “It’s a lot more straightforward out in the woods.”

  “I’m sure that it is. Did I overwhelm you?”

  “More than a little,” Ron admitted.

  “And here I was beginning to think that I’d lost my edge,” Carla chuckled. “Well, I won’t come right out and ask you if you’re interested, and don’t you come right out and tell me. I think you could use the practice. Deal?”

  “Deal.” He let out a sigh of relief.

  “Let’s get on with the rest of the tour, then,” Carla suggested. “I think you’ll find it interesting.” Her smile returned. “You might even get some ideas.”

  “How many women do you have here at any one time?” Ron asked as he trailed Carla down the long hallway.

  “It varies,” Carla answered. “We usually have anywhere from twenty-five to fifty. I think right now we have thirty-seven, not counting the ones you just saw.”

  “That many? I wouldn’t have thought there’d be so many clients in a city this size.”

  Carla laughed. She had a good laugh. “There aren’t,” she said. “Actually, only one of our current clients is local. We have women coming here from all over. Some even come here from overseas. This is the only urban facility that we have that can handle them.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Supply, demand and costs,” Carla answered. “It’s very expensive, running a facility like this. There just wouldn’t be enough business to open another. Anyway, this one is perfectly situated. The city isn’t too big and it still has lots of places nearby to visit. If a wife or a girlfriend or a mistress wants to get away for a little while and recharge her batteries, coming here doesn’t arouse too many suspicions. But enough background.” She turned to one of the metal doors and put her hand on the doorknob. “Let’s get to the interesting part.”

  The door opened up onto a short, wide hallway. This one had unpainted cinderblock walls and a bare cement floor. The ceiling looked like an afterthought, with a metal framework supporting uncovered fluorescent lights. The lights were on the dim side. They gave an effect of gloom and foreboding to the scene. He could see one door to the right, one to the left, and another one at the far end of the hallway. They were metal, and painted dark gray. He could hear a woman’s shrieks coming from behind the door to the right.

  “What the hell’s that?” he asked.

  Carla’s smile was predatory. “Let’s go in and find out, shall we?”

  They passed through the door into a large room with
the same walls, floor, ceiling and lighting. The far wall of it was taken up with a row of cages. They looked like the kind used to transport big dogs. A naked woman huddled in one of them, staring with open-mouthed dismay at the scene in the middle of the room, but Ron’s eyes were drawn to the naked woman there. She was standing, stretched taut into an “X” by chains attached to leather straps fastened to her wrists and ankles. She was standing on her toes when he first saw her, but she quickly slumped in her bonds, letting her head droop. She seemed exhausted. Her long, dark hair was damp with her sweat. It hid her face, but not before he’d seen a heavy bit gag wedged between her teeth. She was whimpering now. The lighting, dim as it was, picked out highlights from the sweat on her body. He saw a trickle of saliva drip from her mouth onto the floor. There were a lot of wet spots there under her, and a floor drain as well. Two burly men, identically clad in black jeans, heavy boots and black hoods that hid their faces, looked towards them as they came in. They both nodded towards Carla and went back to whatever they were doing. One held some sort of vibrator. The other held a short leather strap. He used it to lash the woman’s ass once. She jerked, threw her head back and shrieked again as she got back up on her toes. Ron could see her leg muscles straining and quivering from fatigue. She looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties, average height and fairly pretty in spite of the physical strain she was under. She had nice, full hips, but her breasts were on the small side: “Teats” according to his own classification. The man with the strap used it on her ass again. This time she couldn’t work up anything more than a weak, gurgling moan.

  “What is this?” he turned and whispered to Carla.

  “Sex slave training,” Carla whispered back. “The real hard-core stuff. This is part of the breaking procedure. She has to stay on her toes or she gets whipped. They use that vibrator to force orgasms out of her and wear her out more quickly. Sooner or later, she can’t take any more and she starts begging for mercy.”

  “How can she beg with that gag in her mouth?”

  Carla chuckled nastily. “With the proper incentive, she’ll find a way.”

  “And if she does, then what?”

  “Ahhh…” Carla grinned. “Then they let her down. She’s so eager to please by then that she’ll do almost anything they want. Usually that means sucking and swallowing. After that, they’ll put her back in her cage and let her rest while they move on to that other woman there.” She pointed towards the woman in the cage. In spite of her look of horror, Ron noted that she was as close to the action as the cage would permit, instead of cowering at the back end of it. Her fingers were gripping the thick wire mesh of the cage so hard that even in this bad light her knuckles looked white. For the first time, he noticed that the caged woman seemed Eurasian. Her bare skin was a faint tan all over. Her long, straight black hair was in need of a good brushing.

  “I suppose that other woman will come out of her cage already willing to do whatever they want,” he whispered, so close into Carla’s ear that she shivered.

  “It won’t make any difference,” Carla said. “Do you do anything similar out in the woods?”

  “Out there, it’s usually one woman at a time,” Ron answered. “We use their isolation and sense of helplessness to help break them down.”

  “Don’t you ever have multiple women at a time?” Carla asked. “No, never mind that now. You can tell me later. Would you like to have a closer look?”

  “Of course.”

  Carla clapped her hands once. The two men stepped away from the woman without a word. “Come,” she said over her shoulder to Ron. He followed her over to the captive.

  The woman stirred and whimpered as he stood very close to her. He was so close that he could easily smell her sweat and her musk, intermingled. She looked up at him, her brown eyes pleading. He smiled down at her. Even with her standing on tiptoe, he was more than a head taller than she was. He could see the telltale marks that told him she’d been wearing nipple clamps recently. There were faint red marks across her breasts and belly and thighs, from something much narrower than the strap. She’d been put to very hard use. Up close, she looked to be in her mid to late twenties.

  He reached out slowly with one hand. When Carla said nothing to stop him, he ran his fingertips slowly and lightly up and down the captive’s flank, from hip to armpit and back again. She flinched at his touch at first, as if she was expecting a blow. Then she whimpered. Carla still said nothing, so he fondled her teats gently. They were soft and warm, but her nipples were hard. It couldn’t be due to cold. It was almost stiflingly warm in the room. The woman shivered violently and whimpered again. She drooled around the bit gag.

  “Have you seen enough, sir?” Carla asked from behind him.

  “Yes,” he smiled at the woman. That prompted another whimper and she tried to draw away from him. “Yes, quite enough.” He pinched a nipple lightly before stepping away.

  Carla led him out of the room. He took one last look back, just in time to see one of the hooded men apply the vibrator to his captive’s vulnerable pussy. She started to moan immediately.

  “Oh, my!” Carla almost giggled as she shut the door behind them. “You say your people skills are rusty, but you’re very, very good at what you do! I’m sure that poor woman thought you were going to fuck her right then and there. I almost thought it myself. And you’re very good at picking up on cues, I might add.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Ron grinned. “I assume that ‘that poor woman’ isn’t…what did you call them…a freshman?”

  “Definitely not,” Carla shook her head. “In fact, this is her third time here in four years. She’s savvy enough now to know exactly what she wants. And she likes it very, very rough indeed.”

  “And the other woman?”

  “This is her second time here. She doesn’t like it quite as rough, but witnessing what happens to her cellmate will give her a vicarious thrill. No doubt she’s imagining how the strap would feel on her own body, how the vibrator will feel…she’s probably wondering about you, too.”

  “You give me too much credit.”

  “I think you’re not as aware as you think you are about how women think.”

  “All right,” Ron conceded. “I’m sure that’s possible. I haven’t had to worry too much about how they think. Once I’ve gotten my hands on them, it’s all about how they respond. It’s more like training an animal.”

  “You take it all out of their hands,” Carla smiled, tilting her head to the side as she looked up at him. “That can be a very liberating thing to a woman: No words, just pleasure and discipline. All she has to worry about is sexually pleasing the man or men she’s with.”

  “It does strip things down to their essentials.”

  “Come on,” Carla took his arm again. “I want to show you something else.”

  She led him through the door at the end of the hall, and then along a series of corridors, some long, some short. Inside, he quickly lost his sense of direction. Soon he was half convinced that the building had to be twice as big inside as it appeared to be from the outside.

  “Where are we going?” he asked at last.

  “We’re almost there,” Carla replied. “Right through those double doors up ahead.”

  “What’s in there?”

  “Sssh. You’ll see.”

  They entered an area even more aggressively undecorated than the first one. The walls were still unpainted cinderblock, carelessly laid. He could see crude graffiti spray-painted in places. The floors were bare cement, and irregular, as if it had been poured at different times. Naked light bulbs hung overhead, suspended from the same metal framework that supported the bare fluorescent fixtures found elsewhere. It was a big room, and all along three of the walls were what looked like small cells, each one behind a barred door. There were twelve of them, four to each wall. He could see into a few of them. One was empty. The others held more naked women, lying on thin mats. They were all lying on their sides, facing away f
rom the doors. Their hands were shackled behind them with leather cuffs linked by short, heavy chains.

  “Hello. May I help you?” A man, impeccably clad in a dark three-piece suit appeared from what seemed to be an office. He was tall and slim, with an equally immaculate goatee the same color as his brown hair. Ron guessed he was about thirty-five. He stopped a little short when he saw Carla’s face.

  “Yes,” Carla spoke up quickly. “We’re looking for a trained slave for the night. We were told to come here.”

  The man seemed to think for a moment, his eyes darting from Carla to Ron and back again. Then he smiled.

  “Yes, of course!” he said a little too heartily. “That’s what we have here, lovely women trained to serve. Come with me, and you can take your pick.” He led them over to the nearest cell. The woman in it had short dark hair and a gorgeous ass.

  “Up!” the man called out to her. “Position!”

  The woman stirred and slowly got to her knees. She turned to face them, still kneeling. She kept her legs together, drew her shoulders back, and raised her head. She was young, fit, and her breasts were as gorgeous as her ass, full and round with large, dark nipples. Her skin was creamy white and unmarked. Ron noted that she also wore a heavy leather collar.

  “Speak,” the man ordered. She licked her lips before obeying.

  “Kara would be happy to serve you, master,” she said with scant enthusiasm. She looked down and away after saying her piece.

  “Let’s keep looking, shall we, dear?” Carla suggested.

  There were eight women in all, none of them over thirty. There was one slim blonde who caught his eye, but only because she reminded him a little of Elf-Girl. But she wore her hair long, and he couldn’t get a look at her ears. Each woman took the same pose, each one said the same words, some with actual feeling. Other than that, only the names changed. The blonde’s name was Melinda. After they had looked at all of the women, Carla thanked the man and said they’d be back later.

  “What was that?” Ron asked as they left the room.