Left BracketTHE CORD/BARNETT FAMILYRight Bracket


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Life for Servex had not always been so miserable. Only a few months ago he was Peter Leaman, and a professional tennis champion, albeit retired from the circuit at age twenty-nine. Oh, he was still a slave at the time, but to a mild and caring Mistress whom he adored. And he hadn't even heard about Imperia, town of female sadists. But, like in some nightmarish Jack London story where an innocent man drinking in a pier-side bar wakes up the next morning shanghaied onto some cruel sailing ship, Pete Leaman too saw his ideal world turn suddenly terrifying.

Ellen Brubaker

Ellen Brubaker (not her real name) was a famous actress. After several failed marriages ended in bitter divorces, rumors abounded that, at age 49 (always 49), she was about to discard the idea of men entirely, although she'd lost little of her sexual luster. But then, while studying for her role in a soap opera, she'd learned about the world of s&m. While being coached by a professional dominatrix, the two women became friendly, and Ellen Brubaker wanted to hear more from Mistress Dominique Medford, more about the multitudes of men she heard were just craving to become enslaved.

Over drinks in Sardi's in New York, Ellen Brubaker asked, "But darling, how do you ever find such men?"

"Well, it's obvious, sweetie... they come to me in droves. My calendar is full. But I do understand your particular dilemma... how do you find a man to submit? After all, you can't advertise, like I do."

"Alas..." Ellen said. Still beautiful, impeccably dressed in Chanel, she leaned an elbow on the table. Her hair was long, with undulant waves, the color of wheat in the sun. Mistress Dominique recognized her of course, and she looked a lot handsomer than on TV.

Mistress Dominique, almost twenty years younger, was starved for a cigarette, and played with her ebony cigarette holder. She was dressed, as usual, in black, with unusual steel-tipped five-inch heels. She had black hair and large, black olive eyes.

"You know something?... I think I can help you, sweetie," said Mistress Dominique. "I understand your need to be discrete, and I do hope you understand that I deal with the highest quality clientele, all of whom require discretion. And so discretion would be necessary for any referral I might make."

"My God... do you mean to can refer me to a slave of yours? I can't imagine it. I wouldn't know what to do if I have him. And I can't imagine how I might thank you."

"Don't worry about thanking me, sweetie. It's just that I have a person in mind. You should know that these men aren't my slaves. Just clients. But many of them I have treated over long periods, years in fact, and I've come to know them well and what they are seeking. The man I have in mind might be just perfect for you."

She smiled broadly to herself and lifter her drink to her bright red lips.

"What? What's so funny?" asked Ellen.

"He's so docile. So goddam naturally docile. You like puppy dogs, sweetie?"

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