THE TRAINING OF JEANNIE AND CLAIR
by Zebulon
This is a work of fiction. No reference to real persons is
intended. It contains strong, non-traditional sexual imagery
and language. If you don't like this kind of thing, don't read
it.
This may be reposted anywhere as long as (1) proper
credit is given, (2) I am informed of where it is being
posted, and (3) I am allowed free access to the web site
where it is being posted.
Feedback is welcome. zebulon@fastmail.ca
(MF, FF, Bond)
* * * * * Start of Part 1 * * * * *
Almost as soon as Jeannie realized something was
wrong, she found herself hanging helplessly on the arm of
the stranger. She had gotten off work and was hurrying to
make the last bus when he stepped up, cleared his throat to
get her attention, and then sprayed something into her face.
Even as she tried to scream and turn to run she found her
voice frozen and her legs collapsing. He caught her before
she hit the ground. While her consciousness was fading into
oblivion, she was aware of the feel of the man's arm under
her breasts. He had reached around from behind to hold her
up. Her feet scraped lightly across the asphalt of the
parking lot as he half carried and half dragged her away.
The last thing she would remember was Brenda's voice
getting louder saying, "Oh my God, what happened . . . ."
What happened next was that the turned toward the
rapidly approaching and said in a quiet, concerned
voice, "She just collapsed--quick, help me get her inside."
Then as Brenda leaned in for a closer look he lifted the
aerosol can with his free hand and sprayed her as he had
Jeannie. Brenda looked up in confusion and almost
instantly began to loose her footing as understanding and
fear washed over her. The quickly pocketed the can
and just managed the catch the second before she fell.
He was again moving toward the dark van in the corner of
the lot, but this time with a in each arm. Fortunately for
him, both were fairly small. While he was quite strong,
he was not overly tall and wouldn't have been able to move
quickly if the had been much bigger. But luck
remained with him and he managed to reach the van and
deposit the two in back without being noticed.
The quickly jostled his two charges into the dark
interior of the van, climbed in behind them and closed the
door. Moving dexterously he laid the on their backs,
crammed rubber ball gags into their mouths, and buckled
the gags behind the girls' heads. He turned to Jeannie and
affixed tight cuffs on each of her ankles. The cuffs
resembled thick, heavy watch straps with cloth inner
surfaces, a Velcro middle layer which bound the cuff tightly
to the ankle, and an outermost strap that wound around the
two inner layers and was adjusted to lock and render the
whole business unremovable. This created a tight bond
which wouldn't come lose but which wouldn't damage the
skin no matter how much a struggled. Each cuff had a
small D-ring set in its side. He clipped the two D-
rings together with a small lock. He then rolled Jeannie
over, pulled her arms behind her and did the same with her
wrists. He trussed the second in the same manner.
There were two cords stretched across the van at
floor level. They were set about four feet apart and were
tightly anchored to the van's side walls. Each cord had a
small loop knotted in its center. The effect was to create
two cord loops directly down the center of the van. A large
thick throw rug had been placed underneath. The pulled Jeannie to the center of this rug and, using short
lengths of chain, attached her hand cuffs to one loop and her
ankle cuffs to the other. He then turned her on her side and
pulled the Brenda over so that they were back to back and
head to foot. He bound her identically. Brenda's wrists
were linked with Jeannie's ankles and vice versa. Trussed
that way, even if they were to awake, they wouldn't go
anywhere and wouldn't be able to themselves. The did the job with calm efficiency. The entire process took
only a couple of minutes. He then removed a piece of
cardboard which had been taped over the van's rear window
and checked his partner who was parked in a similar van on
the other side of the lot.
The partner had watched the abduction of the two girls.
Had seen the first taken without incident. Then the second
suddenly appeared. He had cursed quietly and started to get
out of the van to help when the situation resolved itself
almost as quickly as it had developed. 'Well done,' he
thought, and then, on the heels of that thought. "What the
hell are we going to do with the extra?" He didn't have long
to ponder. Within minutes his own target appeared at the
service door of the restaurant. This was Clair, the tall
redhead, and there was certainly no mistaking her. She had
been the only on duty with hair anywhere near that
color. But rather than head to a car she moved to a corner
of the building and stood waiting. 'Just great,' he thought to
himself, 'she's expecting a ride.' He considered whether to
wait and follow her or to make a grab for her now. 'What
the hell,' he thought. So he started the van and drove up.
"Excuse me miss," he said leaning out the window as he
pulled to a stop, "can you show me where I am on this
map?" He held up the map and tried to look puzzled. Clair
had stepped warily back from the van as it pull up, but the
man inside had a nice smile and his voice was warm and
pleasant. Then she recognized him as a customer who had
left less than a half hour ago. 'Poor thing,' she thought,
'have you been sitting here in the parking lot all this time
trying to figure out that map?" As she stepped over to look,
his arm shot around her neck and pulled her face into the
open window where she received a dose of aerosol. She
jerked furiously for a long moment and then went limp
against the van's door.
Just then they were hit with the headlights of an
approaching car. Glancing up he saw a small convertible with a head full of hair at the wheel. He
quickly leaned out and brought his other arm down. He
grabbed Clair around the back and under one arm, lifted her
face with his other hand and cradling her head, kissed her.
It might have worked, even given the laxness of her
body, had it not been for the fact that the approaching car
was the ride Clair had been expecting.
Clair's roommate, Susan, was running a little late, but
she had made up some time by bending most of the traffic
laws along the way. She was only a few minutes behind
schedule. Clair hated to wait in the open, especially late at
night, and Susan could certainly appreciate that. So at first
she was just startled to see Clair kissing the in the van.
Her surprise quickly turned to horror as she realized her
friend was hanging there limply.
Susan panicked and did exactly the wrong thing. She
might have driven off without arousing the abductor's
suspicion--getting his license number and reporting it to the
police. Instead she drove quickly up and slamming on the
breaks jumped out of her car and tried to yank her friend
away from the kidnapper. Something in the back of her
mind told her the would be frightened off by being
discovered. But no sooner had she grabbed her friend and
started to yank than a came up from behind, reached an
arm around her own waist, and sprayed her like the other
three. Within seconds the and the redhead had been
deposited into the back of the second van.
The two quickly looked around. It was late. The
squeal of the breaks and other commotion didn't seem to
have attracted anyone's attention. The first calmly
parked the little car and moments later both vans had
driven off into the night.
* * * * *
Jeannie had really mixed feelings about her job, she hated
most of the customers, but loved the money. She was a
night waitress at Boobies, a sleazy little sports bar that
mostly sported well stacked waitresses in skimpy outfits.
The place featured one oversized theater style TV,
constantly tuned to sporting events and about thirty of the
most well-built women that could be found in the
area. Most of the staff, like Jeannie, were basically good
girls with nice faces and great bodies who were willing to
sell themselves a little to finance something else in their
lives--but unwilling to sell themselves a lot by becoming
hookers. The base salary was only fair, but the tips were
fabulous as long as you flirted with the customers and didn't
fuss about an occasional feel. And Jeannie was willing to
put up with that as long as the customers paid well and it
didn't go too far. In fact, she had become quite an expert at
extracting extravagant tips and keeping things under
control.
Jeannie was finishing and had no idea what she
wanted to do with her life. She was going to graduate in
four weeks and had vague plans to spend the summer
working full-time at Boobies to hoard as much cash as she
could. She was thinking about spending a year hiking
across Europe. Everything disappointed her--her classes,
her job, her hobbies, her life. Perhaps some day she would
figure out what she wanted. And who knows, she might
even think about marriage and children. Someday. But that
particular mundane fantasy held no interest for her at
present.
For now it was just smile, joke, endure an occasional
grab, and do a lot of rapid skipping out of the way. She had
lost count of the number of times she had been
propositioned by customers, but it had to have averaged
two or three times a night.
Jeannie was stunning, even by Boobies standards. She
was slightly less than average height--perhaps five foot five.
She had lovely tanned skin, long brown hair, and a radiant
smile. A truly beautiful face which looked like it belonged
in a fashion magazine. And one of the best bodies on the
staff. Full breasts, but not exaggerated; womanly hips, but
not overly wide. A slim build and two of the most
remarkable legs you might ever see. In another city she
might have been discovered by an ad agency and be
working as a model--but there were no modeling agencies in
this city, so she ended up at Boobies.
And there were two more things about Jeannie.
Personal little secrets which added spice to her work and
made her waitressing position at Boobies more endurable.
Jeannie had a mild attraction to other women. It wasn't
anything overt--she had first noticed it in the showers of
gym class in junior high school. She preferred men--or at
least told herself that she did--and had never actually been
intimate with another woman. She just got a mild erotic
pleasure from looking at other girls. She went so far as to
admit to herself that she was as much a voyeur as most of
the who frequented Boobies. She especially enjoyed
the ready room between shifts as the day were
changing out of their outfits and the night shift was getting
into them. Her other little secret was that she was turned
on by powerful and dominant people. And both the owner of Boobies and the butch operations manager were
strikingly dominant individuals. Again, nothing ever
happened, she simply got a mild erotic thrill when one or the
other of these two would bark an order at her or one of the
other girls. And while she wasn't fond of the crude, groping
patrons, she was otherwise at least content with the
position.
Jeannie didn't bother to second guess or worry about her
fetishes. They were what they were and as long as she
didn't do anything about them, they didn't violate her
middle-class conscience. She had a vague feeling that they
would fade away as she got and eventually figured out
how she wanted to spend her life. And she very well might
have gotten on with her year of travel and her long-term
family plans. Except that on a certain otherwise ordinary
night a certain not so ordinary stranger drifted in and took a
seat at the bar.
* * * * *
The Trainer was one of the most intriguing and
mysterious agents of "the Mart," the largest white slave ring
in the world. The world is a big complicated place and
there were lots of individuals with vast wealth and unusual
appetites. Where poor perverts might become serial rapists
or mass murderers, the existence of the Mart gave the
obscenely rich ones access to anything from a single
anonymous victim to a stable of highly trained sexual slaves.
That's where the Trainer came in. He was one of a very
few well-financed individuals who had nothing to do but to
quietly arrange for the abduction beautiful whom they would train for the specific requirements of
various buyers. When there were no custom orders to work
on, a trainer might capture a for his own pleasure and
then sell her at auction when he got bored or busy with
something else. The after-expense commission for a custom
trained was about five times the profit of a sold at
auction, so naturally a trainer preferred working on custom
orders.
This particular trainer also found the custom jobs more
interesting. As he had gotten more experienced he began to
find simple contracts deadly dull. He found himself looking
for challenges. As his reputation had grown, he was
specifically requested more and more often. He found
himself with a great many options. And of course, his
commission increased dramatically, both with the difficulty
of the assignments and with the simple fact that he
commanded more money. The contract he was working on
now would pay him exceptionally well for each girl--and the
contract was for two.
The basic principles of the Mart were simple: Supply and
Demand and Absolute Secrecy. Anyone who did business
with the Mart was obligated to keep its secrets--failure to
do so meant that someone would stop breathing. There
were special agents retained and occasionally employed to
enforce this policy.
As he sat at the Boobies bar and surveyed the local
talent, the Trainer was working on a contract which called
for a tall submissive redhead coupled with a smaller
dominatrix brunette. He took special note of the fiery
redhead who was working at the bar. As she came up to
take his order, he read her name tag--'Clair.' He smiled at
her and she smiled back. He noted good teeth, large
breasts, a very womanly build without any fat. As he
chatted with her he decided she had a perfectly sweet
personality. She didn't strike him as a natural submissive,
but was hardly a dominant and would probably train without
too much difficulty. As she walked away to prepare his
drink he noted fine legs, a beautiful rear, and a very sexy
walk. When she brought him his order he stood up when
paying for it and noted that she was almost as tall as he--call
her five foot ten or eleven. 'O.K., a tall submissive redhead,'
he thought as he turned around on the bar stool and
surveyed the rest of the establishment. It took only a few
minutes before he spotted Jeannie.
He took his drink over to one of Jeannie's tables and
positioned himself to be able to see the two together.
He wanted to get some idea how they might look as a set.
That was always the problem with these joint contracts.
He'd sometimes recruited two from separate locations
who just didn't seem to fit together once they'd been
recruited. He was still willing to recruit them that way, if he
couldn't find an appropriate pair in the same place, but he
much preferred see his recruits together first. The Trainer
was an artist, a perfectionist, and took great pride in his
handiwork. He'd once had to obtain six different before hitting on a combination he liked. All of which drove
up overhead, delay, and possible dangers. He had already
identified three potential redheads and seven likely brunettes
on this current contract but was checking out a few more
places before making any final decisions. When he found
these two he stopped looking.
Jeannie walked up, smiled winningly and asked if she
could be of help. He put in an order from the large menu
over the bar and paid careful attention to these two stunning
women in juxtaposition. He liked what he saw. Over the
course of the next half hour he studied the rest of the and observed Jeannie and Clair whenever they were both in
his line of sight. He also took a measure of Jeannie's
personality and decided that she was probably more
submissive than dominant. That might mean more work.
But there was something else in her personality which he
couldn't quite put his finger on. It suggested all kinds of
hidden potential.
By the time he had finished his meal he had made up his
mind.
One week later he returned with two recruiters. The
first was a younger man, in his late twenties. He was of
middle height and his hobby was body building. While he
didn't go in for an exaggerated physique, he was well built
and exceptionally strong. The second was a somewhat
older, in his late thirties. He was taller and also had
considerable physical strength. Both wore nondescript
clothes, and both wore minor disguises. A fake mustache
and neck tattoo for the one and a fake beard and large mole
for the other. The most important elements of their
disguises were the tattoo and mole. People who might later
try to describe them would remember the tattoo and mole
with great detail but wouldn't have much to say about the
rest of their faces. Both had dyed their hair with a product
which would easily and quickly wash out. In a matter of
minutes they could radically alter their appearance, if the
need arose.
These companions were special agents of the Mart.
They were the muscle brought in to do the actual abducting.
They would obtain two sets of fake I.D. from their home
city (where they never did any recruiting), and using
disguises and the first I.D.s take separate flights to two
widely different transfer stations. There they would put on
new disguises and using the second I.D.s, obtain round-trip
tickets on flights to the city where the recruitment was to
take place. Using this same second set of I.D.s they would
arrange for hotel, rental vehicles, and whatever else was
necessary. Once the job was completed and they had
returned to the transfer cities, again change disguises, and
use their first sets of I.D. to return home.
At home they would take pains to destroy all of the
evidence associated with their trip. In eight years of
working together, they had never been caught, nor even
suspected. There was no criminal record on either one of
them under any name. They were highly professional and
highly paid and always completed their assignments. They
had a perfect track record and were on high demand for that
reason.
* * * * *
The Trainer had put in a call to arrange for the recruiters
the same night he had first spotted Clair and Jeannie, but he
waited a week in the hope that both would again be
working on the same shift. Almost as soon as he had
entered the establishment he was rewarded to find they
were. The were there and looking as sexy as he had
remembered them. He studied them briefly to confirm his
decision that these were the two he wanted. It didn't take
him long to satisfy himself that they were. So he led his
companions to a table away from the two targets where he
could point them but where they would remain unnoticed.
And indeed, neither Clair nor Jeannie recognized him from
the week before, nor would either of them have cared if
they had.
The recruiters sat impassively as the Trainer fingered the
two girls. They had already been shown the location of the
safe house far outside of town which the Trainer was using
as his base of operations. Once the two recruiters were sure
of their targets, the Trainer left to return to the safe house
and wait. The two agents sat quietly, drank coke, and
waited for the shift to end. After a couple of hours, when it
started getting close to closing time, the recruiters paid their
bills and left to sit in the rental vans they had obtained for
this project. If all went well, they might be able to pick up
both in the Boobies parking lot. If not, they might
have to follow one or both of them home. It was an
unusual and difficult assignment, this double abduction. It
was an assignment for which they would be especially well
paid once they had brought it off.
They thought they were prepared for all contingencies.
But they were hardly prepared for what had actually came
to pass. So after they had left Boobies far enough behind,
the first driver pulled over to truss his charges as the other
two had been constrained. Then the talked it over briefly
with his partner and decided what to do about the extra
girls. The choice was to either bring all four to the
Trainer or to try to get rid of the extra two first. Getting rid
of them either meant turning them loose or killing them.
None of the three options were appealing and in any case
their reputation for perfection was now history.
They quickly agreed it would be best to let the Trainer
decide how to deal with the problem.
* * * * * End of Part 1 * * * * *
THE TRAINING OF JEANNIE AND CLAIR
by Zebulon
This may be reposted anywhere as long as (1) proper
credit is given, (2) I am informed of where it is being
posted, and (3) I am allowed free access to the web site
where it is being posted.
* * * * *
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