The Fet Library

It was approximately one year since her initial capture (she had not been allowed to keep track), and now Sarah was to be sold again. Her first master, having acquired some heavy debts, was forced to sell off his slaves. Sarah had no fondness for him, his wife or his childrenthey had certainly shown no kindness to her, as the marks on her body attested. But at least with them there had been a kind of certainty, even, over time, familiarity. All of that was gone now, and she was now back at the spot where her new life had begun.

Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons or events is purely coincidental.

Marcus was a college freshman. Like many his age, he couldn't wait to finish his studies and get on with his life. Unlike many his age, Marcus was the son of a wealthy criminal family. Growing rich on drug sales and money laundering, his family mainly operated in America and, to a lesser degree, in Russia.

Chapter 1: Paparazzi

Ryan walked into the restaurant and looked around. He was meeting Teresa here for dinner and was running a little late. He approached the maitre d', noticing the man's immaculate tuxedo, then looked down at his own faded dress shirt. "I don't belong here," Ryan thought to himself as he was led to his table. This restaurant was filled with the rich and famous. He'd had to elbow through a line of photographers outside, who were waiting to snap a picture of a celebrity out on a date.

Jemma checked her watch as the doorbell buzzed three times in quick succession; it was a  quarter to one in the afternoon. She didn’t bother to get up as she heard the front door open and close, and a moment later, the sleek glossy black ponytail topped head of her best friend, Becki, peeked around the door.

“Your fifteen minutes early!”.

"Morning sweety." The cacophony of white noise that permeated the room stopped abruptly, a soft feminine voice taking its place.

Justin was quickly pulled out of his half sleep, jolting awake at the sudden change in the sound surrounding him. Before he attempted to stretch his limbs out, he heard the hinges of the thick steel door that she had installed creak along, the sound of scraping metal filling his ears.

Amber couldnt sleep again.

The tan brunette tossed and turned in bed, changing her position, growing more and more anxious with every second that passed and more annoyed with herself. She was supposed to be past this by now. Today was a good day she was going to be happy. Indeed, she was excited the thrill of the day that was ahead of her filled her, making her want to start the day even though it was only six in the morning but that wasnt the cause of her anxiety. It was that she was going to a wedding.

"Noisy" I muttered to myself giving the duvet cover one final twitch to centre the crest of my favourite soccer team slap bang in the middle of the bed. Little fusspot would be sure to notice if it was even half a centimetre out! I paused just as I was smoothing everything down again as a loud scream sounded from the adjacent building. A second, third and fourth followed and then after a pause a couple more finishing with an extended long and particularly shrill one that made even me wince.

Several readers expressed an interest in hearing how Trixie and the pony were getting on, so I knocked up another couple of instalments to carry on from 'Girlfriend Meets My Ponyboy!'.

Personally, I was inclined to blame the Kungflu, as President Trump had once derisively called it, for my present predicament on the end of a shovel. Shit shovelling and muckraking was not my favourite job, and by rights, it was a task that should have been shared equally, all things being equal and fair!

1.

Dr. Schmidt smiled at the girls, then turned around and opened the double doors of the big cabinet behind her.

Chapter 1
The freshmen therapist students gathered by the treatment table at Dr. Tilly's "laboratory". This was the first class of Electro-shock Therepy for Chronic Masturbation. Everyone seemed quite tickled by the test subject's evident unwillingness for his role. But the restraints and the gag kept his struggles and whimpered pleas subdued, just as the drugs given to him would keep him hard and receptive.

"They all resist," Dr. Tilly said. "After all, if they didn't, what would be the point?"

The students laughed.