SCIFI-BABE.COM - Sashi's Visit to Saith and Dara (Part 1)

"All Trussed Up With Nowhere To Go."

In the bustling marketplaces of 'Saith' and 'Dara', everything has a
price - including humanoids of all species and sexes. Sashi reports:

So, there I was on Montanera, visiting the twin markets of Saith and Dara, where you can really shop till you drop, in every sense of the word. If you can't find it here, any merchant will tell you, you can't find it anywhere. Ask one of them for the most unusual thing you can think of, and they will either have it, know where to find it or, failing that, will have someone make it up for you. To all intents, I was there to visit Tomaso Greer, a manufacturer of items much sought after by devotees of the art of "tightlacing", to get measured for a drop dead, over bust, lace and leather corset with chrome steel stays. In truth, however, I was there to investigate the more unsavory side of business on Montanera: the traffic in humanoid slaves. Now, don't get me wrong. I thoroughly enjoy exploring all aspects of my submissiveness with a very strict Master or Mistress in a very dark dungeon, but it's always been based on a consensual agreement between two free adults, and happens not nearly often enough. *grin* That's definitely NOT the case with these poor souls, however.

Well... how in heck was I going find out more about this without becoming either very dead, or at best an unwilling slave, I asked myself? The answer turned out to be Tomaso Greer, purveyor of the finest 'restrictive' clothing and 'bad girl toys' in the known universe.

Having located his imposing premises on the corner of 'Simsim' and 'Figaroa', painted all shades of green and adorned with potted plants, I was soon standing, butt naked, in the back room while a measurement unit lasered my most delicate regions to build up a topographically perfect replica of my gorgeousness. It was while I was standing absolutely still, so that the laser wouldn't accidentally remove even the tiniest piece of me, that I happened to overhear Greer talking on his communicator. It seems the individual on the other end of the call was endeavoring to place an order for some pretty exotic restraint equipment and was haggling over the price. Greer was understandably becoming more and more irritated as the price was seriously in danger of heading to the wrong side of 'cost'. Greer isn't a greedy man, though he does love his food - to such a degree in fact that he would totally benefit from using one of his own products. I doubt, though, that there's enough Yarma skin (a bit like leather) in the galaxy to make one large enough to fit him. And as for the laces? Well.....

Oops, I digress.

So... Greer is talking with this person and asking questions like, "How many females?", and "Are there males, too?", and "How long will they be kept restrained?" Anyway, I'm pretty quick in the smarts department, and figured he was likely talking with someone who had slaves to move somewhere, and didn't want to risk them getting free. It couldn't have been a sex-show manager, coz they expect the performers to bring their own stuff. No, this was a professionally run outfit. They needed a large number of similar restraint items and weren't interested in buying 'cheap', coz it would be passed on to the buyer anyway. He - Greer kept calling him, 'Sir' - was most likely an agent, or middleman, who was simply trying to maximize his cut, hence the haggling.

Phew! Not bad for a blonde, huh?

Anyway, I called out to Greer as soon as he made the deal - cost plus 'ten' - and hung up the communicator. "I was thinking of getting some of that stuff, myself?" I said.
"Stuff?" Greer growled, obviously still annoyed at the low level of profit he was making.

"You know," I said, smiling sweetly, "tie me up and paddle my rear end stuff."

"Ugh!" was all he managed, before presenting me with a very large catalogue from which I was to choose the design for my corset. Three of them made me positively dizzy, and I had a real problem making my final decision, so I chose all three.

Unlike with the caller, Greer stood to make a very tidy profit, indeed. I don't have to haggle, you see, coz Alethea always picks up the tab and writes it off against expenses. Greer, therefore, treated me to one of his famous hugs. Breathless, and thankful that his grip hadn't crushed my spine and internal organs, I retreated to the safety of the nearest changing room to get dressed. While there, I casually called to him through the curtain and asked how I might meet this customer of his, so I could learn more about the use to which he proposed to put Greer's products. "You could always deliver the goods, yourself," he said. "At your own expense, of course."

"Okay," I chirped. "When will it be ready?"

"It's in stock," he replied. "I'll have a clerk make up the order and pack it for you."

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," he said.

Tomorrow eventually came, after a long, sleepless night spent wondering if I was making a humongous mistake in trying to sneak myself into an organization based on the cruel, heartless, exploitation of individuals who'd quite literally been kidnapped from hearth and home. Like I said, I'm pretty quick at picking up on stuff, but even Greer could have figured out that if I screwed up, I'd probably wind up in the foundations of a new office block in downtown Saith, or Dara... or both!

I walked into Greer's shop and asked for him, only to be escorted in silence through to the back by one of the assistants, who showed me a very large - like this was TOTALLY HUGE - package. I was to take it to the address on the slip of paper she was handing to me. Paper? Oh well...

"Can I get a little help?" I enquired.

"Ask the cab driver," came the reply. The word, 'bitch', was unspoken, but it was definitely there, right at the end of the sentence.

"Fine," I said, between clenched teeth. "Why don't I just do that?"

The cab arrived after only a few minutes, and the driver was really helpful. Like momma used to say, a carefully timed and well executed butt wiggle goes a long way. I also made sure he got to see plenty of thigh as I boarded the vehicle. Seemed only fair!

It took nearly an hour before we drew up in front of a well proportioned, and obviously expensive, split level bungalow way up in the hills, overlooking Saith. 'This is pretty high profile for complete scum bags like these,' I remember thinking. Maybe I was wrong about them? Maybe they really were legit?

The cab driver had deposited the package on the driveway, so I still had to drag it something like twenty yards, and then haul it up four steps to the front door. My spiky heels were skidding on the gravel, I was breathing hard coz of my corset, my back hurt, and the package just kept getting heavier and heavier. I was about to call it a day and simply leave the package right where it was when the door opened and a deep, silky voice said, "Help you?"

I turned and answered, "Oh, yes, please."

He smiled broadly and I noticed he had incredible teeth. "With you dressed like that," he said, "it has to be from Greer's place". Then he laughed. "I had no idea he dressed his staff in his own products. I thought he'd be too mean for that."

"This is my own stuff," I protested.

"You mean you dress like that all the time?"

"Why not?" I replied, defensively.

He nodded, like he'd finally figured out where I fitted in his personal concept of the way society should be run, and said, "You can call me, 'Phoenix'."

"I'm Sashi."

"Well, come in.... Sashi."

"What about the package?"

"Leave it," he replied. "I'll have someone bring it in." He opened the door wide and gestured I should walk inside. I hesitated just long enough for him to feel the need to smile reassuringly - showing me those wonderful teeth, again - and shove me gently in the back.

Teetering on my five-inch heels, I stumbled through the doorway and into the most beautifully decorated room I had ever seen. Slave master or not, this guy had amazing taste! "Sit," he ordered. I sat. "Something to drink?" he asked, moving towards a trolley on the far side of the room.

"Soda, please," I replied, wondering if I should have put a 'Sir' on the end.

"Nothing stronger?"

"Soda is fine."

"As you wish," he said, walking back across the room with a drink for himself in one hand and my bottle of soda in the other. He handed it to me without a word and sat opposite in an expensive looking, leather recliner. "So, why did you come here?"

My mind was churning. Crunch time! Ball on your own seven-yard line. Second and six. Defense showing 'blitz'. I had a boyfriend once who spoke like that all the time. I still have no idea what the heck he was talking about but, at that moment, it seemed appropriate somehow.

He looked slightly annoyed. "Well?"

"I've known Tomaso Greer for absolutely ages," I replied, at length, "and I wanted to help out."

He nodded, like he might have just, possibly, believed me - for a nanosecond, maybe. Then he laughed, sipped his drink and leaned forward. "That, my leather clad princess, is the biggest load of....."

"But, Sir...." I began.

He sat back and placed the empty glass on the floor next to his chair. He intertwined his fingers and raised his hands, brushing his lips with his thumbnails, deep in thought. "Perhaps you should go? Before things become too....." He paused, for effect. "Permanent."

To buy some time to think, I smiled sweetly, and reminded him that his merchandise was still outside on the driveway. He got to his feet and pulled a communicator from his pants pocket. Turning his back on me, he placed a call, spoke briefly to some minion or other, then rang off and sat down again. "Someone will bring it in," he assured me. "Now, where were we?"

"You were kind of offering me a permanent position," I replied, helpfully.

"Just so," he said. "So, you intend to stick around, do you? Despite the danger?"

"Danger?" I asked, sounding as innocent as I could.

"Well, perhaps 'danger' is the wrong word? Perhaps a more appropriate one would be, 'discomfort'." He gave me that smile again, and went on, "You see, the position would involve a certain amount of ... discipline."

"Oh, I'm v..very d..disciplined," I stammered. "You should see my panty draw. Black on the left, colored in the middle, and white on the right."

Most guys seem to find my sense of humor quite engaging, if not downright funny, but my host clearly wasn't amused. He got slowly to his feet and made another call. "You're hired," he said as he hung up.

That was it for me. 'Two minute warning'. I was out of that chair and heading for the door.

"Where do you think you're going, little one?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised that I should consider doing such a thing, me being a lowly slave and him being a Master and all.

"I thought you might want references. I was just going to get them."

His thumb pressed a button on the communicator and I heard the door lock click home. "Not necessary," he said. "I'm very impressed with your..." He waved his hand up and down in my direction, "... attitude. So impressed, in fact, that I'll take you on trust."

He reached out and took my arm, pulling me after him and through the door at the rear of the room. A few yards had us at another door. He opened it with a click of another button on his communicator and dragged me inside. From the panel on the right side, which had a vertical column of buttons, I figured it was likely an elevator. It was. He pressed the lowest button and my stomach moved upwards - despite my corset.

After a few seconds, my trembling legs bent slightly as we stopped abruptly. The door opened to reveal a dimly lit, stone-clad walled room, with lots of chains and things. He pulled me towards a wooden chair, with a high back and arms. "Sit," he ordered. I sat. Thirty seconds had me strapped into that chair so tight I couldn't so much as twitch a muscle. He smiled, clearly satisfied with his handiwork, and headed for the lift door.

"Aren't you going to gag me?" I asked, with as much humor as I could manage.

"Why would I want to do that?" he enquired.

"Most Masters seem to want to do it," I replied. "Maybe coz they don't want to be interrupted."

"You can make as much noise as you like," he replied, smiling. "No one can hear you down here." He stepped inside the elevator, and said, "But, I like your style."

I'm not too keen on the dark. Leastwise, not dark dungeons. I mean, rats and other creepy crawly things live in dungeons, don't they? "Is it bedtime already?" I asked, trying to keep him there, and the elevator door open, so the light would shine on me a little longer.

As an afterthought, he slipped a hood over my head. It had no eyes, only nose and mouth holes. He stepped behind me and tightened the laces. He then patted me on the top of the head and said, "Sleep tight, little one. You've a busy day tomorrow."

I heard the elevator door close and sighed.

After about ten minutes had crawled by, anyone standing there in the dark would have heard a voice whispering just one word, "Help."