The Heiress

The Heiress-1

"A book is to reading as a fork is to..." he paused as he took a moment to scan over the answers.

"Eating," he whispered, hoping none of the other slaves could hear him. He glanced up momentarily at the five other men sitting in the room with him. They were all just like him, kidnapped by the time they were 18 and trained to be sold on the black market for the pleasure of those who were wealthy and immoral enough to pay the steep price.

He had been taken from Long Beach, California to Hebron, Wisconsin for 3 hard years of training to turn him into a perfectly submissive slave; after which he was transplanted to a large palace outside of London, UK.

Now, he found himself taking a standard I.Q. test alongside his fellow sex slaves, something that they had never done in his 4 years at the Rothschild estate.

He focused on finishing the test, taking a moment to chew the end of his pencil and run his hands through his dark hair before answering the last question. The test hadn't been hard for him, it reminded him of tests that his high school social studies teacher had given for fun. A glance around told him that he was the first one done, so he dropped his gaze to his paper and waited for the proctor to call them to turn in their answers.

Once that was done, the slaves were moved to a small gym where they were told to perform a number of physical activities. A glance up told them that their master was watching.  After about a half hour, three of them were pulled from the group, stripped, and placed on their knees in another room.

He was on the end when his master entered, and waited patiently as the other two slaves were told to stand, then to kneel again.

"Up," came his master's command.

He stood, and his master began to examine him more closely.

"Down," he fell back to his knees when his master was finished with him and awaited further instructions.

The master spoke to a man at the door, who then made his way towards the slaves. The first two he dismissed, the third needed only a gesture to know to follow on his knees. He crawled after the man, wondering what task lay ahead.

"Get dressed."

The clothes lying before him were different from the standard uniform. Rather than skimpy black shorts, a deep cut vest that showcased his tan abs and a bowtie, he was given a pair of jeans, a white v-neck and boots. He dressed quickly, pulling his gold chain out of his shirt.

The chain hung down onto his pectoralis, dangling a small circle that held the brand of a sex slave on one side, and his number, 11, on the other.

He was one of 14 slaves who were housed at the Rothschild estate for the pleasure of the inhabitants and the many guests who visited the palace. There were 6 male slaves, used primarily to pleasure female guests, and occasionally men who were enjoying the hospitality of the estate. Some had been taken to the master or the mistress' bed, but neither had ever given 11 a second look before today. The other 8 slaves were females who both the male patrons and the master enjoyed readily.

He was, of course, not the 11th slave to be purchased by the family. Rather, he took the place of the previous number 11 after something went awry. He was never told what and he never dared to ask.

He crawled again through the vast halls, watching the slack clad calves of the servant who had been instructed where to take him.

There were far more servants at the estate than there were slaves. They were all willingly employed and contractually obligated to remain silent about anything and everything that occurred on the estate. Upon arrival, he had been embarrassed in front of them, he was more physically fit and handsome than most of the men employed at the palace, though they often demonstrated the power they had over him. They were free men who could not be sold at a whim or whipped for misbehavior.

The servant stopped on the fourth floor in front of a grand oak door, instructed him to wait, and left.

With a sigh of tension, he sat down in the proper waiting position, and waited.