Jonathan Creed

I raised an eyebrow, "sterner with you?" I asked.

She nodded miserably.

I tried to keep my voice calm, "what do you mean by 'sterner with you.'

Sarah looked like she wanted to sink into the floor. "It's just something inside that still thinks this isn't true slavery ... you've made me this wonderful dinner ... and while the old part of me thinks it's sweet and considerate, the new me, the slave me has been incredibly uncomfortable ... with this and other things."

She looked up at me ... trying to gauge my reaction. "Continue," I said.

She nodded. "It's just, slaves don't have romantic dinners made for them ... they make dinner and then beg for table scraps."

I felt my toes bunch in my shoes ... something I always did when distressed ... Sarah, however, had worked herself up.

"Slaves don't sleep in the bed with the Master, they sleep at the foot of the bed ... or in a cage if they've been bad. They have to clean the house and do the chores, and when they're not doing that they're being whipped or tied up ... and then used for the Master's pleasure."

Sarah was breathing heavily now ... a red flush had crept up her neck and colored her cheeks. Her naked breasts where heaving up and down.

"What about the rules? I thought we already covered the stern stuff?" I said ... even I heard the confusion in my own voice.

"They were good ... but not enough ... not nearly enough..."

Suddenly all the fight went out of her ... and she just slumped back onto her chair.

"What happened to not losing your personality? If I start ... um ... treating you like you've asked ... then ... you'll be different..."

Sarah looked at me. Her eyes held the most peculiar emotion in them. "What if I don't like my old personality? What if ... what if I wasn't happy being me?"

This romantic dinner was spiraling out of control ... our pasta was sitting stone cold in front of both of us.

"Why would you not like yourself Sarah?"

She snorted. "Oh, I don't know ... what's not to like? I was selfish, snotty and sarcastic, and looked at men that didn't appear on the covers of magazines like they were trash."

I was speechless.

Sarah balled up her napkin and threw it, "You know how I got kidnapped right?"

I shook my head, "No ... no ... Jones ... err ... my boss took me off the case. I didn't hear about your abduction."

Sarah nodded. "I got caught because my 'boyfriend' Juan decided he liked spending his money on cocaine more than me ... so I bitched him out and he left me at a restaurant one night. So I had to walk alone across New York at midnight because I didn't have money for a cab."

I coughed, "That bastard ... I ought to..."

Sarah interrupted me, "Master, don't say anything." I got kidnapped because I was a bitch ... a royal bitch ... but I haven't been to you ... no ... I have acted completely out of character around you. Ever since I laid eyes on you I felt a sort of peace. My brain acknowledged you as my Master ... I don't feel like you need to take care of me and buy me expensive things ... instead ... I feel drawn to you."

Sarah took a breath ... and seeing my shocked expression plowed right along. "I feel like I need to care for you ... and make sure all your needs are met ... and the thought that all I might get in return is a spanking and pat on the head makes me feel ... wonderful ... I can't even describe it, and now that my body has changed ... I know I look like the slave you want ... you just have to claim me ... and I mean really claim me."

There was a lull in the conversation ... the candles flickered silently in front of us ... a car alarm went off outside ... only to be quickly silenced.

I found my voice. "I don't know if I can really be what you want."

Sarah suddenly looked fierce, "Yes you can! You act like an entirely different man when we fuck. You stand a little straighter, your eyes are a little brighter and your voice is colder. That man is my Master. That man can keep me on my knees, begging to serve him."

Sarah knew about the beast ... and I thought I'd been so careful ... I'd made rules ... and I'd treated this like a little exercise ... a project to help a friend.

But the beast didn't feel that way.

The beast liked the feel of a pliant woman ... it liked the idea of a slave who could take its raw nature and bear the bruises proudly ... eagerly.

I could feel him poking through ... it saw the girl and wanted her.

Sarah spoke, "I can see it in your eyes ... they show you're half way between being the lonely Jonathan Creed, the man society made you, and my Master, the strong man who seizes what he desires with no apologizes."

"Sarah ... stop ... you don't know what you're asking for ... fantasy is all well and good but..."

Sarah waved her hand, "Fantasy my ass. Underneath all those excuses your big brain has come up with is the man you want to be ... the man who will use that big brain for something other than excuses."

"ENOUGH," I bellowed.

Sarah's next words died on her tongue.

My voice was cold and clipped. "I wanted to make this evening nice and romantic for you, but clearly it was a mistake, for we have done nothing but argue."

Sarah shivered.

Seeing this I tried to calm down. I tried to make my voice warmer, "I'm sorry I shouted Sarah, it's just that, well..."

Sarah shook her head. "Don't apologize ... for a brief second there my real Master was talking to me."

I opened my mouth; once again shocked ... she had enjoyed me shouting at her.

Sarah groaned. "And now he's gone ... Jesus ... we've been avoiding the issue the entire time ... I want to be a slave ... and deep down inside you my Master is lurking. However, instead all I get is this feeling that so far you've only been doing this to 'help me out' and I don't want that ... I want this to be as real as it can be."

My mind was in shambles ... my control was slipping. Part of me felt like I needed to comfort what was obviously a very traumatized girl ... yet another part felt like this woman should be disciplined for talking to me in such a manner.

I sighed.

In my moment of mental anguish, an answer came to me ... unfortunately it wasn't the one I was looking for.

I stood up, and gathered our plates, and took them to the kitchen. I set them next to the sink so I could wash them later.

I walked back into the living room. Sarah was still sitting there, staring into the candles.

"Sarah?"

She simply blinked in acknowledgement.

"I'm ordering you to attend to your work as a model from here on out. I want you to do it to the best of your ability, and without getting headaches."

She looked at me, puzzled.

"I'm hoping that by ordering to do something the slave chip will be happy, and won't give you headaches ... now go to sleep ... use the room I put you in when you first arrived ... I think it best if we sleep separately tonight."

Without a word, my beautiful red head stood gathered her skirt from the chair, and walked from the room.

I sat down heavily on the couch. My mind felt like it was at war with itself. It would feel so good to give in ... to be that man ... that beast.

No more making up rules because I feel like I need to ... no more romantic dinners ... no more mister nice guy.

Maybe I've been like Jane. When she was showing bad houses she was cynical and bored ... yet when she showed me this house she had turned into a different person ... maybe I've been 'showing' bad houses for far too long ... and have become tiresome myself. By doing something different could I, like Jane become a different person?

Could I be a different man?

I could be a man who makes his woman wear a leash ... I could be a man who makes a woman debase herself sexually. I could be a man who gets off on a woman in chains with welts and tears clinging to her body.

I had read about all these things just before she arrived ... they could be a reality ... Sarah was begging for that treatment ... and that man.

I could be that man ... would it really be so hard?

I blew the candles out, and went upstairs.

-------

Chapter 18

Needless to say, sleep did not greet me swiftly.

I tossed and turned. I tried lying on my back until my shoulders became sore ... I tried my stomach ... but my neck began to ache.

All the while the clock silently marched forward.

Twelve O'clock.

One O'clock.

Two O'clock.

I put a towel over the clock ... knowing the time wasn't helping anything.

Sarah's words kept echoing in my head.

'You act like an entirely different man when we fuck. You stand a little straighter, your eyes are a little brighter and your voice is colder. That man is my Master. That man can keep me on my knees, begging to serve him.'

Right now the Master would settle for a good six hours of sleep.

Slowly, my bed did begin to feel more comfortable ... and all my little discomforts seemed to fade. My body grew calm ... even if my mind did not.

As it always is with sleep, I don't remember when I succumbed to it.

-------

I was sitting in a dark room ... or a dark space ... I had no idea whether I was inside or not. All I knew was that the darkness was so complete I couldn't see my own hand inches from my face.

It was disturbing...

I couldn't decide if the chair I was in was comfortable or not. It was made of a material I could not name. It felt like stone ... but I had never encountered rock so smooth ... so seamless. It was hard ... such as most rocks were, but the chair felt like it contorted to the every curve of my body.

I peered out into the darkness ... looking for something ... anything ... that would make sense.

Something shifted out in the abyss.

"Hello?" I called out. I could hear the nerves in my voice.

The darkness moved again, and a seated figure emerged.

The chair was made of a black stone ... it looked like it was made of obsidian ... yet it was too perfect ... too formed to be real.

But that wasn't what caught my attention ... it simply registered in the back of my head.

No, what held my attention, was that the figure seated in that chair ... was myself ... which was impossible ... I could not sit across from myself.

My doppelganger smiled.

He looked different from the present me though. He was wearing one of my favorite suits ... yet he casually had a couple buttons undone ... something I never did. His face was thinner, and he filled out the suit much better than I currently did. It was almost like I was peering at a me that hit the gym every day.

He held himself in such a confident manner I couldn't help but feel awed.

In his left hand he loosely held a silver chain.

My doppelganger cocked his head and looked at me ... amusement in his eyes.

He suddenly jerked the silver chain.

From out of the darkness, Sarah, my red headed beauty, crawled slowly toward my doppelganger's feet.

He dropped his hand down, and slowly stroked her fiery mane. She edged up closer to him ... and rubbed her face against his leg. It was almost as if she were a big tamed cat ... wanting nothing more than her owners attention.

My double looked me right in the eyes.

"You could be me you know," he said.

-------

My alarm started blaring.

I jerked awake ... rivulets of sweat were coursing down my forehead. I shook my head ... and sent a few drops flying from my face.

I removed the towel from my alarm clock and used it to wipe my brow. I clicked the alarm off.

I ran through my morning ablutions hastily. I showered, shaved, and slipped into my cheap suit that I wore to work every day.

All of these things were routine, I could do them blinded folded and hung over.

What wasn't routine was my anxiety over facing Sarah this morning. I didn't know how I should react to the conversation we had last night.

Should I be sterner? Or should I just pretend last night never happened?

I sighed. Why couldn't girls be like math problems? Those were easy. I'd rather do an entire Calculus workbook cover to cover than attempt to understand a teenage girl.

I straightened my tie, and checked my appearance in the mirror. I sighed; it was time to face the music.

-------

I tentatively checked the guest bedroom. Instead of finding a sleeping Sarah, I found only a immaculately made bed.

The kitchen then, I thought. I bounded down the stairs onto the ground floor. I didn't smell any evidence of cooking.

"Sarah?" I called out.

Silence.

I rounded the corner into the kitchen. Once again I was greeted to nothing but an immaculately clean room.

She must have cleared away last night's dinner.

I briefly wondered if she had run away, until I spotted a note lying neatly on the kitchen counter.

It was addressed 'Master.'

It wasn't sealed, and I flicked it open with my thumb.

'Dear Master,

I'm sorry about arguing with you last night, I feel terrible and I would like to apologize. I should be grateful that the man whom I call Master is kind and considerate to me. When you get this note I shall be gone. I have an early shoot to go to this morning, and I will probably be gone by the time you get this note. I'm taking a taxi, so don't worry about your car.

Your devoted slave,

Sarah.'

I gingerly set the note down.

I exhaled slowly. Sarah was fine, and she wasn't angry with me. What a relief.

-------

I pulled up to the Bureau for the first time in a week. It felt odd coming back after such an impromptu vacation.

"And a fine morning to you Jon," said Paul. "It is nice to see you back."

I grinned, "Nice to be back Paul, it's been a weird week."

The good natured giant winked at me. "Well don't get too comfortable now, the way I hear it things are quite hectic up there."

"Thanks for the tip." I replied.

Paul buzzed me through, and I clambered into the familiar elevator. I wished the FBI would invest in some calming elevator music.

The door dinged open.

When Paul had said everything was hectic up here my imagination had gotten the better of me. I had expected papers to be flying everywhere while Agents scurried around on some errand or another.

Instead, everything looked normal. No one looked panicked, no one looked confused. Everyone was calmly going about the day. Phones rang, faxes were sent, and the ever present hum of the fluorescents hung overhead.

I passed by my own office, I was here to help Jim; I had nothing on my plate as of now.

Jim's office was right next to Jones' office, which meant it was much bigger than mine. I knocked on his door.

Jim was slow in answering the door, but when he opened it I could see why.

He looked like a wreck. Jim's usual immaculate appearance was in tatters. He neatly quaffed movie star blond hair was askew, he was in his shirt sleeves with the cuffs rolled up, and his eyes sported dark circles that would be the envy of any raccoon.

"Jesus Jim, you look like shit." I said. I was too shocked to filter my thoughts.

He nodded, "I know. Now get in here so you can help me."

I followed him into his office, and took a seat in front of his desk. He sank down into his chair.

"When was the last time you slept Jim?"

He shrugged, "Yesterday sometime, took a nap on the couch." He gestured to the tiny couch he kept in the corner.

I shook my head. "You weren't kidding when you said you needed help. So, what can I do you for?"

Jim eyed me from across his desk. "How much do you know about the neurological processing units?"

I shrugged. "Nothing I couldn't observe. Jones took me off the case remember."

Jim nodded. "So, what have you observed Jon?"

I sighed. "I've observed that these neuro units are incredibly potent mind control devices. I can attest first hand to their power."

"So you know nothing else?" He asked.

I shook my head.

"Well then, let me bring you up to speed." Jim said. "Ronald Turner, the CEO of UniCORP is in hiding here in America. Apparently he wasn't on his private plane when it took off. We were able to flag it down when it landed in The New Republic of Venezuela and the only people on it were two scared board members.

Ronald Turners name will be going on the FBI's most wanted list in approximately twenty four hours.

I groaned. The FBI is famous for its most wanted list. But it was always a small sting to our pride to admit we haven't caught someone.

"Have we uncovered any more auctions selling people with chips in their heads?" I asked.

Jim shook his head. "No, and that's the strange thing. The entire Bureau and all its branches are trying to uncover more of these chips ... but so far, nothing."

I put my head in my hands. "That isn't necessarily strange. We've cut off the serpent's head, it's not a surprise no one else has been bitten."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "No metaphors Jon, I haven't slept."

"Sorry."

Jim shrugged. "I've been looking at files all day. We've already sent Agents to his house, and to all his relatives houses. When that didn't work, I even started sending teams to check out all the random properties that UniCORP owned before it was seized."

I sighed, "Let me guess, nothing?"

"You got it."

I paused in thought. "UniCORP was a big company right?" I said speculatively.

Jim nodded, "You and I both know that Jon, so what?"

"Well think about it. UniCORP must have owned subsidiary companies. Have you checked the random and obscure properties that they own?"

Jim paused. "Damn, this is why I need you. You provide a new set of eyes on this shit."

I grinned. This past week had had me doubting my own intelligence. It was good to be back in my element.

"Anything else I can put some new perspective on Jim," I said.

Jim smiled, "Now there's that ego we've been missing around here."

I shrugged.

"Well then," Jim said, "You can look at these files. These files each represent the girls that were kidnapped. We've been trying to put together a profile on how these girls were selected. We think this will help us root out the kidnappers who actually made the grab. Think you can lend me a hand?"

"Hand me one."

-------

This was the part of being an Agent that I lived for. I loved looking through file after file. I took endless amounts of information and arranged it into a pattern. I took chaos and shaped it into order.

Jim and I spent hours peering through files.

Jim sighed, and threw a file onto his desk. "That's the last one on my end. How many do you have left to read?"

I looked up absently. "Oh I finished an hour ago, I'm rereading them and making notes."

"Damn," Jim said. "Remind me to time you reading one day."

I flipped the file closed. "No need, I can read one hundred pages in eleven minutes and thirty three seconds. I timed myself in college."

"Jon, there are some who might find your intelligence annoying." Jim replied.

"Well I hope you're not one of them, because I've put together a likely profile."

Jim's mouth dropped slightly. "Jesus, all that in forty minutes? Let's hear it then Jon."

I cleared my throat, "Right, now it is quite obvious with just a glance that these women were all in careers that focused on their beauty."

Jim nodded.

I picked up a file, "Look at Ms. Young here. She is a struggling actress who appeared in minor roles in day time soaps. Ms. Claire, Ms. Yacono, and my own Ms. Gale were all minor models, and Ms. Smith was a 'private escort.' So I think we can safely assume that UniCORP was selecting for pretty girls who wouldn't be too dearly missed should they disappear."

Jim sighed, "That doesn't really tell us who snatched the girls Jon."

I put my head in my hands. "No well, all the girls I just mentioned did have boyfriends they were on the outs with. I suppose they might have been approached to make the snatch."

Jim raised an eyebrow.

I nodded, "Yeah, yeah, I know. It is unlikely that the company could have approached all those guys and found them willing to kidnap their ex's."