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The Queen of Sorrow’s Falls
Part Six
The Megalomaniac
By Razor7826 (copyright 2008. The author does not condone any illegal actions represented in this story or any of his other stories. They are works of fiction for entertainment purposes only.)
A white van sped through the lonely country road as endless fields of grain and corn swept by. The destination, though new to both driver and passengers, would someday play a monumental role in each of their lives.
Michelle von Houten clenched the steering wheel with unnecessary strength. “This ride is infuriatingly boring,” she said through her gritted teeth. “I’ve never hated the Midwest so damn much.”
Suri stared out the passenger window out across the endless fields of greens and yellows. Without turning away, she muttered, “Long drives are boring no matter where you live. Trust me.”
“If you say so. How much further is it again?
“Still not even halfway there. I told you it wasn’t close.”
Michelle sighed while continuing to stare down the deserted highway. They continued in silence before twenty minutes before she asked, “Do you really think we should pick up someone along the way?”
“We don’t have to, but it’s a quick and easy way to make some money.”
“Seems like it would be difficult,” quipped Michelle, “to decide what to take just passing them on the street.”
“Haha,” laughed Suri. “This must be the worst weekend in the world to be a hitchhiker. Sometimes, it feels like every single one of them in the country manages to go missing, considering how crowded the convention is.”
“Isn’t it a bit conspicuous?”
“You’d think that, but hitchhikers go missing every single day, and state and local authorities tend not to be very collaborative with their efforts and knowledge.”
“Hmm…” murmured Michelle as her thoughts returned to herself and the road ahead.
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Just after midnight, Suri asleep by her side and her slave caged in the back, Michelle spotted a small car pulled along the side of the road. The van’s headlights illuminated a sole woman, waving her hands madly in the air to signal her distress.
A woman in need, completely unaware of the drastic turn her life could take at Michelle’s whim like Suri had foreseen. Her life lingered in Michelle’s hand, just as many others had been before. She slowed the van, made brief eye contact with the woman, and sped up again, sparing the girl from whatever horrors her owners could dream.
In the side mirror, the unknown girl raised her middle finger at the speeding van. Michelle smiled at the irony.
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They turned onto the private gravel drive of the motel just after sunrise. Inset several hundred feet from the road, the nameless motel hid out of sight from random passersby, allowing its owners and patrons to flaunt a lifestyle unknown to the outside world.. The front parking lot was full and spilled onto the surrounding terrain.
“Damn, this is more crowded than Joe and Keith made it seem,” said Suri, startling Michelle.
“Do you have any idea what we’re supposed to do?
“Just head to the office, I’ll talk to them.” She hopped out of the car as it came to a stop and entered the front office, returning three minutes later. “Pull around back. Room 181.”
“So what do we do know?”
“Well, the auction doesn’t start until midnight, but we need to get her registered and check out the other goods a few hours before hand. We can rest until then.”
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The sun had set before they reemerged from their room, Eliza behind them, leashed gagged, her body covered with a short bathrobe. Lingering outside the other rooms were men and women, dommes and subs, all openly flaunting their illicit lifestyles and hobbies. They passed their competitors and entered the lobby. A door led to a straight stairway, which widened and descended many steps into a basement room inconceivably large from outside the motel. The heightened ceiling and wide walls gave the impression of a convention hall, and the more Michelle observed the guests, the more she realized that is exactly what it was—vendors from across the country coming and displaying their unwilling goods, hoping to generate interest and profits.
Beside her, Suri’s eyes darted from woman to woman, inspecting each person briefly. “There are so many,” she said. “The jackasses never made it seem this awesome.”
“Where do we have to register?”
“No idea. Just ask around. Oh, and take off the girl’s robe. Let them see what they’re bidding on.”
Michelle pulled the robe off of Eliza’s shoulders, exposing her tits. Her body was criss-crossed in a loose harness which extended down to her thighs and up to her collar. “Come on, Eliza. Don’t be shy.”
The former deputy protested mutely into her gag, but stumbled forward in her high heels. She had learned—but not completely accepted--her new place in life during her short time under Michelle’s care, an accomplishment that Michelle took great pride in.
The young domme had no love for the property thrust onto her the impulses of Keith and Joe, but it did not prevent her from doing her job. Michelle smiled as she accepted that is what it was—a job, the first one she ever held in her short life. Or, at least the first job she had ever enjoyed or willingly accepted.
The trip continued through the crowd, looking for a registration desk that another guest had mentioned. However, her pursuit was interrupted by a familiar face out of the corner of her eye. A man kneeled beside a young blond woman, his hands behind his back, his penis locked in a chastity cage. It took a moment for Michelle to place his boyish face.
“Mr. Smith?” she asked as she moved in for closer a look.
“Michelle!” yelled Suri, her hand reaching out to restrain her friend but barely missing.
It was him, she was certain; her twelfth grade math teacher, a lanky white man by the name of Brian Smith. “Mr. Smith! Oh my God.”
His mistress quickly stepped between the student and her teacher. “Can I help you, miss?” she said, with condescension in her voice despite her diminutive height.”
“That’s an old teacher of mine.”
Suri rushed to her side and whispered, “Michelle…”
The blond woman’s attention perked up. “Oh, you were a student at Serenity Falls?”
“Yes.”
“Well, if you care about this man, bid on him. He is of no use to me anymore… Michelle was it?”
“Come on!” yelled Suri, grabbing Michelle’s arm and pulling her away.
The chain of Suri, Michelle, and Eliza disappeared back into the crowd, cutting and weaving through the pack of domination enthusiasts and victims until they were far away from the mysterious blond woman.
“What were you thinking, Michelle?” asked Suri.
“Huh?”
“Confronting that woman. Why did you do that?”
“That slave was a teacher of mine.”
“That’s no excuse to confront the owner. If you care, buy him. There are no other options.”
“That seems a bit callous.”
“Callous? The last thing anybody here wants to know is that somebody may have an interest in notifying the police.
“But…”
“But keep it to yourself, okay? Those are the rules of the game.”
Michelle nodded The lesson made sense, in a truly fundamental way. Rules are rules, after all, and there exist penalties for those that break them. Just as a mistress chastises disobedient slaves, any group of people will take it upon themselves to punish those that forget their place.
Her eyes scanned the crowd, paying attention to the subtle interactions between groups. Each pocket of people had a hierarchy of power, which mirrored itself in the greater mob. Slaves bowing to their owners, owners ceding to the directions of the organizers, and organizers doing everything within their power to skirt law enforcement-- a perfectly functional society existing parasitically off of the
At that moment, she realized the beauty of it all. The entire world kept in the balance by punishment, or, more frequently, the mere threat of it. That was how such an underground society worked; follow the rules and keep quiet, or, suffer.
Michelle grabbed Eliza’s leash. The slave’s attention snapped to her mistress immediately.
“Nice reflex time, Eliza.”
Her response came only with her eyes. A cutting glare, signifying that for all her abuse there still lingered a keen intellect.
“Stop staring at me like that. Don’t you want me to have pleasant memories of you when you’re gone?”
The stare remained. Michelle turned back towards the crowd and walked, Suri following at her side and Eliza to her rear. Together, the scoured the convention hall until they entered the center clearing.
A tiny booth sat dead center, facing a field of fold-out chairs and manned by a plump woman in her fifties. ‘Registration’ read a simple sign hanging beneath the center.
The bespectacled lady stood to greet them as the approached. “Good evening! I was just about to close up, but it looks like we have one more item for the block.”
“That is correct,” replied Michelle.
“Good, good,” the lady responded with enthusiasm. She sat back down to scrawl something illegible in a notebook, then handed Suri a lanyard. “Prep begins in an hour. Just make sure she’s backstage to the left wearing that, and leave her with one of our associates.”
Michelle and Suri looked at the badge. It merely listed a number in two-inch-tall black letters—327.
“Thank you, miss,” said Michelle. She and her companions left the booth. As they walked, Michelle asked Suri, “Is that high?”
“I have no idea about. I’ve never been her before, remember?”
“Well you seem to know what’s going on.”
“That’s because the jackasses only took me to smaller events out in Podunk.”
They continued to peruse the convention floor, watching in amazement at the perverse defilements visited upon unwilling flesh. Though female slaves easily outnumbered men, there were still enough to notice. On one of the avenues off the central stadium, Mr. Smith hanged from his wrists as a group of women tortured his naked body. Clips and clamps pinched nearly every inch of his body while a raven-haired woman wearing rimless glasses and gray pantsuits drilled him from behind. He screamed into his gag, eliciting cheers from the spectators.
Something about his plight saddened Michelle. He was an awkward, timid little man when he was her teacher, but he deserved better than that.
“Maybe I’ll bid on him,” whispered Michelle to Suri.
“Are you serious? You can get better off the street.”
“He doesn’t deserve that.”
“So, what are you going to do? Free him? That isn’t allowed.”
“We’ll see.”
They returned to the central stadium and handed Eliza to remarkably normal looking stage crew, making sure to place numbered lanyard around her neck so that her number dangled just above her bare tits.
As the deputy disappeared into the mob of unwanted property, Michelle couldn’t help but stare at her body. Well-muscled, smooth skin, perfect handful sized breasts; it was a shame that she was so difficult to manage. Though more obedient than weeks earlier, she wasn’t worth the trouble. Besides, she was a police officer, and would certainly be worth something on the open market.
They took seats near the front and watched the opening of the auction. Michelle was completely shocked, not just by the exorbitant prices for prime specimens, but the quality of the stock. Her expectation of single items of varying qualities was completely shattered by the three headlining items.
First, a full set of missionaries thought to be on their way to god knows where when their plane was diverted. Three women, two men, all young, healthy, and scared. Though Michelle thought the mixed gender blend would be less than optimal, the package fetched over four-hundred thousand dollars.
The second lot was quadruplets in two sets of female identical twins, one pair blond, the other brunette, each gagged and naked. Though their bodies were smooth and toned, they defied expectations for the beautiful and had each obtained degrees in the sciences. The total price? Upwards of one-and-a-half million dollars.
The last of the headliner lots was the twenty-seven year-old daughter of a well-known politician who had disappeared weeks ago while boating. Many had expected her to follow her father’s footsteps, and it probably would have happened had she not been abducted. Michelle couldn’t help but wonder why the girl was kidnapped, whether it was out of greed, lust, or hatred of her father, but the bottom line was a nearly two-million dollar payout.
At that moment, she realized that her family’s wealth, envied by all in Serenity Falls, was nothing but a pittance to the scale of the game she had become part of. Decades of her father’s work were almost met by a single well-timed and well-executed abduction.
The cash her and Suri had shoved into a suitcase would not be enough for anything but the most unwanted creatures to be put on the block. Mr. Smith tempted her briefly, but a pair of fem-dommes bid the price past her twenty-thousand dollar limit right out of the gate. She had no choice but to watch the rest of the auction in feckless silence, through hundreds of appealing items of all ages and shapes, until even Eliza, the second to last lot, came and went.
“Damnit, how could she not have sold?” yelled Michelle as her and Suri headed backstage. “Why didn’t they go any lower?”
“Michelle…”
“No, I’m serious. Somebody must want her.”
“And somebody does want her, but the auctioneers won’t drop below the reserve price offered by them,” Suri revealed. She pointed her finger to a large black tent adjacent to the staging areal.
“Who are they?”
“Nobody knows, but they’ll offer a flat fee of five-thousand dollars for women and two for men, regardless of their condition, no questions asked.”
“What do they use them for?”
“They won’t say, but Keith and Joe tossed out a few ideas. They said the people would be used for… parts.”
Michelle shuddered at the idea. “That’s terrible.”
“That’s just a rumor, though. I think five-thousand dollars is just the value of a warm hole that can be shipped to any filthy bar or brothel in the world. At least that’s what I hope.”
“So that’s what Eliza’s future holds?”
A voice came from the entrance of the tent. “You can have her back for a one-hundred dollar handling fee. You know, to cover the cost of holding her for auction.”
Michelle turned to Suri, but the Indian woman merely closed her eyes, shook her head, and shrugged her shoulders. It was Michelle’s decision to make as their de facto leader.
The decision came surprisingly easily. “You can keep her. She’s not worth the trouble.”
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They spent the night together in a motel room, sharing each other’s warmth in a lovers’ embrace. The van ride home was uneventful, with nothing but small talk to be made until they could digest the weekend’s events. And, in the stretches of silence, Michelle pondered the future. The convention had fueled the flames of her lust, but it had also awakened deeper fantasies of power and control. The queen’s realm would soon extend far beyond her basement dungeon.
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