Author's Note
This is another Theo story. I retired that series some time ago with the story "Escape from Theo's," and gave the whole non-con genre a rest. However, this story was written before then, and comes with all the non-con, slavery, torture and general maliciousness that marked that series. However, I went too overboard for the Literotica editors, and they kept rejecting it. So the story sat on the shelf for a long time.
I still think it's a good story, especially as it functions as a sort of origin story for Theo's slavery operation. Now I've come back to it and revised it by removing a section that, I think, was the part that got it rejected. It's still very non-con, so if that's not your taste, please stick to my consensual stories like the Freeuse and Kendra series. But if you've been pining for a bit more Theo, here it is.
As always, comments, positive or negative, are always welcome.
***
I'm Jess. You've met me before, especially in some of Stephanie's stories. Now I get to tell one of my own.
I'm a tallish but not towering black woman with medium-dark skin and hair that falls naturally in a spray of black curls around my shoulders. I pride myself on being fit and staying fit, taking advantage of Theo's on-site gym at every opportunity. This helps keep my C-cup breasts from sagging and gives me good muscle definition without making me look like an over-muscled body builder.
I'm 33, but I was 25 when Theo first "recruited" - AKA kidnapped - me. That's in the age range Theo prefers: not just technically legal, but mature enough to, in his words, "not make me feel like a pedophile." Not that legality has a lot to do with it, since everything Theo does in letting clients tie up and rape totally non-consensual slaves is hugely illegal. I guess even human traffickers have lines they won't cross.
Oh yes, and I have the dubious distinction of being Theo's very first sex slave. That's why I have the number 1 tattooed just above my left breast. Theo introduced the tattooed numbers when he got up to about sixteen slaves: it's helpful if a client wants to ask for a particular slave on a repeat visit, since we don't always get the chance to introduce ourselves by name.
Theo's operation is now a slick and well-oiled slave-based BSDM brothel with twenty-five slaves that evidently make him a pretty good amount of money - it should, considering that clients pay $2000 for an hour and a half to do almost anything they want to us, including things that no professional sex worker would ever consent to. In a bit, I'll tell you about a particularly interesting day at this well-oiled machine. But first, I'll tell you how it looked when he started, and I unwillingly joined him.
***
I had been living in Hamilton for about three years, working as a graphic designer for a small company. I enjoyed my work, and the four other members of the team were smart and easy to get along with. I could take the subway home, but on fine Spring days when the weather has begun to warm, I usually preferred to walk. My condo was only about twenty minutes away from work, and the walk helped me settle and centre myself after an intense day of making and defending design decisions.
My route took me by some open areas, which I found especially therapeutic. On this particular Friday, I was walking by such an area, trying to be mindful and present as I walked, paying attention to the way my body moved with each step, how the pavement felt under my feet, the way the wind felt on my skin, and letting go of all the things that had occupied my mind at work. I noticed a large and powerfully-built man with swarthy skin and brown hair and beard round a corner and walk toward me. As he approached, he automatically moved further to his side of the sidewalk to give me room to pass, as did I. He nodded pleasantly to me as we passed each other and we both passed a large black van that was parked by the curb.
Just as he passed, he suddenly whirled around, and before I could react, he had a wide panel gag over my mouth and was cinching it behind my head. It was made of soft rubber and clung tightly to my skin, and I found that I couldn't open my lips behind it. I screamed, of course, but it all had to come out my nose and didn't sound very effectual.
When I reached up to scrabble at the gag with my fingers, he grabbed both my wrists and twisted them behind my back. I felt metal handcuffs ratcheting closed around them, pinning my arms behind my back. I struggled violently and tried to kick him, but he was ready for that, and turned sideways to me so I couldn't kick him in the groin. He got one arm across my throat from behind and grabbed his wrist with his other hand, pinning my neck as if in a vice. I struggled for a while, but he was just as strong as he looked, and I felt myself blacking out. He seemed to know what he was doing with the chokehold: he didn't do it until I passed out completely, just until I was too far gone to resist.
The side door of the van was open. It had been closed when I started to walk by it; probably he pushed the open button on the key fob just before he whipped the gag over my face. Once I was past being able to put up an effective resistance, he backed me up to it and shoved me through it hard so I landed on my back on the carpeted floor. There were leather straps attached to the floor, and I was groggy enough that I couldn't resist when he cinched one around each ankle, pinning me to the carpet. Another went over my chest just below my breasts to keep me flat on my back, the handcuffs digging uncomfortably into me.
Once he made sure I was secure, he checked a camera, evidently to make sure no-one would catch a glimpse of a bound, struggling woman when he opened the door. When he was sure the area was vacant, he stepped out and went around to the cab, leaving me alone in the windowless back of the van.
If you've been following these stories, you may find this routine familiar. It's the way Theo acquired Serena, or Slave Fourteen as he calls her. In talking to other women in Theo's "employ," I discovered that he has a variety of ways to acquire new slaves. A few he grabs off the street, but that only works when the victim likes to walk regularly on a route that includes some areas that are relatively deserted. He always surveils his prey for weeks or months, looking for patterns and regular habits that would present an opportunity.
When an opportunity for a blatant daylight grab doesn't offer itself, he has lots of other ways. Some women are conned into walking right into his trap - Theo can be extremely engaging and can inspire trust in women who would normally be too smart to fall for a confidence trick. Some he manages to get to date him so he can drive them to a restaurant and, of course, never arrive. A few, like Stephanie and Anabelle, he buys from slave traders, although he prefers to do the kidnapping himself. And he's not too proud to give up on a promising target when there is no opportunity for a safe recruitment. He hasn't gotten away with his game for eight years by being hasty or careless.
But back to the story.
***
We drove for what seemed like hours, some of it evidently on highways and some stop-and-go through built-up areas. As I laid there uncomfortably, I tried to make out what was going on. This was too carefully planned and executed to be a casual grab-and-rape. Ransom? As a junior employee, I didn't have much money, nor did my family. Mistaken identity? Did he think I had a rich boyfriend, or was affiliated with a powerful drug cartel? The truth turned out to be too fantastic for me to have guessed it until Theo told me.
By the time we stopped for good, I was no longer even sure which province I was in, let alone which city. Theo slid the van door open, unfastened the straps that were holding me to the floor, and removed the gag, but left the handcuffs on. I swung my legs over the doorsill and awkwardly stepped out into what appeared to be an underground garage.
Theo inspected my wrists, which were chafed and raw from my struggles with the handcuffs. "Damn," he said ruefully. "I'll have to refine my recruitment technique. I don't like my slaves to be marked up."
The word "slave" was my first clue as to what this was actually about. I wanted to say, "What the fuck is going on," but decided that I would be better off keeping my mouth shut for a while.
We walked through a heavy door, down a corridor, and through another door into a large room. It looked like a comfortable lounging area, with couches, chairs and coffee tables. A large television sat against one wall. Through a doorway I could see what appeared to be a dining room. The place was big enough for quite a few people, but it seemed to be deserted.
"I'm going to take those handcuffs off now," said Theo. "You can try to run if you like, but there's really nowhere to go. None of the outside doors will open for you. And if you try to overpower me, be aware that my staff are watching the cameras closely." He gestured to several small hemispherical blisters on the ceiling. "If they see anything they don't think I can handle, in about three seconds you'll get a visit from several tough security staff with weapons."
He took the handcuffs off and gestured to a door at one end of the room. "There's a bathroom there if you want. It's been a long drive." I had been too terrified to notice that I needed to pee, but I noticed now, and took him up on the offer. Of course the bathroom had no windows, and nothing I could use as a weapon. And the door didn't lock.
Theo waited patiently for me to finish up and come out. He was sitting in an armchair, and gestured to another one opposite it. "Make yourself comfortable and I'll explain what's going on.
"I'm Theo. I've invested a lot of money in setting this place up as a brothel of sorts, aimed at men who want the kind of services that no ordinary sex worker will provide. They want to tie women up, maybe hurt them or maybe not, and fuck them any way they like. These are guys who aren't content with the willing BDSM partners they can pick up at bondage parties and such. They want to know that what they have in their hands is a genuine, non-consensual sex slave. I figure I'll give them about an hour and a half to do whatever they like to you. My only rule is that they can't do anything that will really damage you or leave long-term marks. You have to be in good shape for the next client."
