Steel World Inc. Chapter Twenty One

 

“Tell me about the second floor.”

 

We were about half way to Miss Whitlock’s building when I decided to satisfy my curiosity on the abundance of pretty girls working on the second floor who seemed to mysteriously move on to other pastures without warning.

 

“Do you really need me to say it?” said Miss Madison.

 

“I do, yes.”

 

“Fine. They’re groomed for abduction.”

 

“And you’ve been party to it?” I gazed at her, without taking my eyes fully off the road. I’m a very careful driver, which is something I pride myself on. So many road accidents these days are the result of drivers who allow themselves to become needlessly distracted.

 

She shrugged. “I think that’s obvious.”

 

“Let us be clear, Miss Madison – the girls who move on to overseas posts, or whatever, they are…”

 

“Enslaved. Taken to Gor. Yes.”

 

Again this word, Gor. Everyone I had met seemed to believe it existed. 

 

“You don’t have a problem with that?”

 

“What do you want me to say, Simon? That I was woefully tricked, and by the time I realised where I was, and what was expected of me, it was too late to get out?” She regarded me with a trace of amusement. “That I was afraid for my life? That I cry myself to sleep each night because of what I have to do?”

 

“It would be nice to think that, yes.” I made a left turn at the next set of traffic lights. 

 

“Grow up. The world is a cruel place and you’re either a predator or a predator’s prey.”

 

“I hoped you might be better than that, Miss Madison. Don’t you feel anything for those girls?”

 

“It doesn’t matter what I feel. The world is going to be very different in ten years’ time. Women will be faced with a stark choice very soon – compose themselves properly as Free Women, or wear the collar. I’m simply ahead of the curve, making sure I end up in the right camp.”

 

“But now you wear a collar too.” I saw her body stiffen as I said that. “I saw the fear in your eyes when you realised you were going to be shipped to the Lazy F ranch. You were scared.”

 

“I still am. My only hope is you, and don’t take this the wrong way, but I really don’t think that means the odds are in my favour.”

 

“I know what I’m doing, Miss Madison.”

 

“That’s what worries me. Have you ever fired a gun before?” She was referring of course to the Sig P226 resting on the back seat.

 

“No, but I’ve done paintball a few times, and…”

 

“Please… just don’t say that.” She rolled her eyes. 

 

“I got you out of the house, didn’t I?”

 

“Yes.” She gazed at me, and her tone was now more grateful. “You did. I’m sorry… this hasn’t been a good evening. My nerves are on edge. I would feel better if my hands weren’t handcuffed behind my back. It’s getting very uncomfortable sitting here like this.”

 

“I don’t mean for you to be uncomfortable, Miss Madison. But, well… you said it yourself, you’ve enslaved women. I see that as a problem. You’re far from innocent.”

 

“Simon… I’m not proud of what I’ve done, and yes, the truth is I didn’t know it would be quite like this. Would I have chosen this path if I’d known the full truth to begin with? Possibly not. Do I regret the wealth and comfortable lifestyle, and youthful appearance it has given me? Well, no. I wish I was the innocent heroine here, to make you feel better, but at least I’m not Frick. You heard him. You heard the things he’s done! I’m nowhere near him on the balance of the scales.”

 

“What about Miss Whitlock? She works on the second floor, but she’s a manager.” I was remembering the recent phone call, and how terrified she’d sounded, and now I was beginning to wonder whether she too was being groomed. 

 

“She’s being watched. Manager in her case means very little. On Gor there is the concept of a First Girl. It comes with some authority, but you’re still basically a slave.”

 

“You…” my knuckles tensed as I gripped the steering wheel. “You’ve considered abducting Miss Whitlock?”

 

I think she sensed the tension in the air now.

 

“No. She’s not the type we go for.”

 

“Well, you would say that, wouldn’t you? Considering you’re handcuffed, helpless, and wearing a collar, and her boyfriend – me - is your only hope now?”

 

“I mean it, Simon. She’s not our type. She’s a Free Woman by Gorean standards. Karl wouldn’t…”

 

“And what about you? Never mind Karl’s assessment. I’m sure you made an assessment, probably within the first few days of her working in the building. What was your assessment?”

 

“She was being watched. Nothing more.”

 

“Someone broke into her flat, Miss Madison. I think someone drugged her and stripped her naked. I think someone dressed her in different underwear and then let her wake up to discover that. Is that something you do? Some sick game?”

 

“Simon…”

 

“I can’t see how this would be done without you knowing about it.”

 

Her silence spoke volumes.

 

We drove then in silence; me wrestling with my confused feelings for Emily Madison, and she, well, who knows what she was thinking right now.

 

I parked the car opposite Arabella’s block of flats and turned the engine off. The street was quiet, as you might expect so late in the night. None of the windows had lights on. 

 

“Frick couldn’t have got here before us, could he?”

 

“No. It would take time for him to piece things together like that.”

 

“I should take the gun.”

 

“You should not take the gun.” She turned to look at me in alarm.

 

“Why? Why don’t you want me to have a gun?”

 

“Because!” She seemed incredulous now. “You’ll probably shoot yourself in the foot the first time a stray cat jumps out onto a refuse bin. What are you even going to do if you did run into Frick’s men? They’d shoot you the moment they saw you were carrying the Sig.”

 

“Not if I drew on them first.”

 

“This isn’t a film where you might get lucky! We employ professional killers. They’re very good at what they do. Don’t take the gun!”

 

I glanced again at the box on the back seat. 

 

“Why am I even bothering! You don’t listen to anything I say!”

 

“All right, I won’t take the gun. But I have to get Miss Whitlock.” I unclipped my seat belt and was about to open the door.

 

“Aren’t you going to phone her first? Wake her up before you go in there? Make sure she actually is in there?”

 

“I was going to do that, yes,” I said, as I settled back in my seat, retrieved my phone and dialled her number. I waited a while as Miss Madison gazed anxiously at me. There was enough ambient glow of the street lighting that I could clearly gaze back at her lovely legs.

 

“It’s her answerphone,” I said.

 

“Call her again.”

 

So I did. “And answer phone again. I don’t think she wants to talk to me. Either that or she’s deep asleep and the phone is in another room.”

 

“Keep phoning her until she picks up the fucking phone!”

 

After four more calls, I gave up.

 

“I assume the two of you had an argument earlier?” asked Miss Madison.

 

“Yes.” I stared at the phone, cursing myself. 

 

“Well that’s just great...” She settled back into the seat, looking cramped and uncomfortable with her hands behind her back. “Please will you remove these slave bracelets? They really hurt, Simon. Please.”

 

She looked so helpless and vulnerable, so very in my power. I felt a stir of emotions as I gazed at how high the brief skirt had ridden up on her thigh. She blushed when she realised how much of her I could see. 

 

“You don’t need to keep me handcuffed. Please, Simon.”

 

I unclipped the seat belt so that Miss Madison could lean forward and I could reach her wrists. Producing the key I freed her with some fumbling in the dark. Her body was very close to mine and I could smell her perfume mixed with the scent of a sexually desirable female in heat. 

 

The first thing she did, once her hands were free, was to pull down the hem of her tunic skirt. 

 

The steel collar gleamed about her throat in the glow of the dashboard lights. 

 

Her lips seemed delicious and so very close to my own. 

 

“Simon? Why are you looking at me like that?”

 

I did have feelings for Miss Emily Madison, and I wrestled with my conscience as I considered them. 

 

“I can understand why Frick would want you.”

 

She smiled softly. “Do you want to kiss me, Simon?”

 

“Yes. Very much.”

 

“You can kiss me if you like.” Her voice sounded soft and desirable. 

 

“I’m parked outside Miss Whitlock’s building. It’s not appropriate.”

 

And then she suddenly kissed me and it was glorious. When we broke for air, I saw signs of female arousal in her body and face. 

 

“I don’t know why I did that.” She quickly turned away and placed her hands before her face. “I don’t… do things like that.”

 

“You are a very desirable woman.”

 

And the collar around her throat made her even more desirable. How was it that such a simple thing enhanced the beauty of almost any woman? I considered the reality of the situation. This was a fleeting moment. A free Emily Madison would never stay with me, long term. It was not in her nature. The slave Emily Madison of course would have no choice. If a man owned her, she would be his. It was that simple. At least until he tired of her. 

 

“What are you thinking, Simon?” She gazed at me as she lowered her fingers a little.

 

“I’m thinking…” 

 

I’m glad I don’t have the key to her collar. I’m glad that it will not come off. That I can’t remove it. That I don’t have the choice to remove it.

 

“What? Tell me?”

 

“I need to get Arabella.”

 

“Simon,” she quickly took my hand. “I’m serious when I say you can have me if you keep me from Frick. You do want me, yes?”

 

I felt hard, where I sat. If she touched me there, she would know it. 

 

“Ask Karl to give me to you when this is over.”

 

Clever. She knows I would have to free her. Whereas Karl would keep her in a collar. 

 

“I want to be your slave, not his, not anyone else’s. I dream of you, Simon. I want to kneel before you in my fantasies. I want to wear your collar in my fantasies.”

 

She knows I would have to free her. I would have to. I can’t keep a woman as a slave. It would be unthinkable. 

 

And yet… how glorious the fantasy seemed. 

 

A fantasy in which Miss Arabella Whitlock was my honourable Free Companion, and Miss Madison… a slave girl, now simply called Emily…. wore my collar and served me in ways that Miss Whitlock never could. 

 

“I don’t know how I’m going to get into the building. If Arabella won’t answer the phone, she’s unlikely to buzz me in through the main door.”

 

“Thankfully, that’s the least of your problems. The arm rest of your chair should lift up.”

 

I lifted up the armrest and discovered a recessed compartment in which lay a couple of items.

 

“That one.” Miss Madison pointed to what looked like a slim, handheld remote control. 

 

“What does it do?” I picked it up out of its custom space.

 

“Opens doors. Point and click and the lock opens itself. We use it for abductions. It will get you into any house or apartment with locks that respond to a key.”

 

“How is this possible?” I weighed the slim device in my hand.

 

“Tip of the iceberg, Simon. We have tech you wouldn’t believe.”

 

Miss Madison exited the car the same time I did.

 

“You can stay in the car,” I remarked as she wrapped her arms about her body. It was a cold night and she wore very little. She no doubt felt the cold air under the hem of her tunic, where she was exposed.

 

“I need some clothes.”

 

“You’re a little bigger than Miss Whitlock. What size are you?”

 

“Ten.”

 

“Miss Whitlock is a six. Her skirts and capri pants won’t fit your waist or hips.”

 

“I’ll find something.”

 

I watched as Miss Madison demonstrated the use of the remote device. There was a metallic click as a beam of light in the keyhole turned the locking mechanism. “Abracadabra,” she said as she pushed the front door open. We took the stairs quietly until we were on the landing where the apartment door could be found. 

 

“Perhaps I should knock?” I suggested.

 

There was a metallic click as Miss Madison shone the light beam into the keyhole of the apartment door. “I wouldn’t bother. If it’s a trap you stand a slightly better chance by not announcing your presence in advance.”

 

“You think it’s a trap?”

 

“No, no I don’t. We’re ahead of the game here, Simon.” She gazed up at me. Oh, but she looked so beautiful in her collar and tunic. She was barefoot still and I felt that stirring of emotions again as I considered how wonderful it might be to actually own her. 

 

But I shouldn’t, mustn’t, think things like that. Miss Whitlock was my companion. I didn’t, I couldn’t own a slave. The idea was monstrous. 

 

But I could smell Miss Madison’s perfume again, and I wanted to reach out and touch her, take her in my embrace, plant kisses upon that ripe mouth, and enjoy the ownership of a woman. 

 

“Simon?” She brushed a little hair away from her face. Although I couldn’t truly trust her, I think she had been speaking the truth when she said before that she found me physically attractive. 

 

I opened the apartment door and stepped quietly inside. There were no lights on and Miss Whitlock was almost certainly in her bed, assuming she was in fact here at all. Miss Madison flicked a secondary switch on the hand held remote and it bathed a discrete cone of soft light that she moved across the living room to illuminate our way. 

 

On the coffee table was an open bottle of wine, two thirds full. There was a wine glass, stained around the rim, and an open box of chocolates. There were also a couple of well-thumbed paperbacks, one of them bookmarked.

 

And then I remembered why the word ‘Gor’ had seemed so familiar before. It was a planet in a series of pulp paperbacks. I had read one many years ago. I picked up the copy of ‘Explorers of Gor’ from the coffee table and opened it to the book marked position:

 

'Masculinity and femininity are complementary properties,' I told her. 'If a man wishes a woman to be more feminine, he must be more masculine. If a woman wishes a man to be more masculine, she must be more feminine.'

 

An interesting concept, I thought to myself, as I gazed back at Miss Madison. 

 

“These are just fiction,” I said, indicating the books.

 

“No, they are not,” she replied.

 

“Why does Miss Whitlock have these? Why is she suddenly reading them?”

 

Miss Madison simply smiled and said nothing, but then quietly indicated the door to the bedroom.

 

I put the book down beside the other one and moved to the bedroom door, opening it silently. My eyes were accustomed enough to the pre-dawn darkness that I could clearly make out the shape in the bed. The covers had been pushed aside slightly as if she had tossed and turned in her sleep. She wore a soft silken chemise with delicate lace edging and a floral design, and I saw how the hem was rucked up high about her thighs from her nocturnal movements.

 

Lying, discarded, on the carpet floor, was another Gor paperback. I motioned for the soft light beam to be shone on it, and I saw the title was ‘Kajira of Gor’. She had been reading it before she went to sleep. 

 

She looked so peaceful, lying there. I stepped closer to the bed and touched her hair, lightly, with my fingertips. It seemed an intrusion. This was her private place; a place where she might feel safe from the outside world, and here I was, standing beside her bed without her permission. 

 

But she was in danger, and I was here to save her.

 

Oh, Miss Whitlock! My beautiful companion, Miss Arabella Whitlock.

 

I gazed back at the desirable figure of Miss Emily Madison, in her slave collar and brief tunic. The desire I felt for her remained unabated and unfulfilled. I then gazed back down at Miss Whitlock’s bare throat that of course was unadorned by steel. It was unimaginable that Miss Whitlock might ever be collared. Miss Whitlock collared? No!

 

But somehow it seemed right on Miss Madison. I liked the fact she wore a steel collar that she couldn’t remove. I was glad that I didn’t have the key and would be forced to remove it for her. I was glad she would have to wear it a while longer. 

 

“Simon,” whispered Miss Madison. “We should hurry.” 

 

I moved my hand and placed it softly over Mis Whitlock’s mouth, anticipating a scream.

 

“Arabella, please wake up. It’s Simon.”