She sighed. She had gotten rather used to waiting around at this point, but it didn’t mean she liked it any more than she usually did. She just wanted to get this stupid interview over and done with so she could do something else. Anything else at this point, really.
She was still annoyed that she’d been fobbed off onto this dumb story in the first place; ‘dollification’, what a crock. The guy was just some crank. Worse, he was some crank who kept blowing her off whenever she was supposed to interview him. He’d been a no-show at all of their previously arranged meetups and always called in with some excuse or other.
Clearly, being a crank mustn’t have paid very well because the phone he used was crap. The messages he left she had to listen to over and over again just to make some kind of sense of, just full of all this aggravating snapping and popping sounds.She kept finding herself zoning out trying to parse them, it was annoying.
His excuses were at least vaguely convincing once she finally managed to make them out: her skirt hadn’t been short enough, she needed to be blonde, he could tell she was still wearing underwear etcetera etcetera. Legitimate excuses she knew - and they were all her fault, because she was imperfect - but it was still annoying that he had to be so picky. This time she knew she had done everything right though. She had even gone that extra mile, making herself completely smooth and not cumming or even touching in the last week. That would show him: she could be professional even when working with someone like him.
She checked the time again and grudgingly had to admit he wasn’t actually late this time. Rather, she had showed up an hour or so early. She just didn’t want to miss him, that was all, though the logic of showing up early to not miss someone who had a habit of simply not appearing was shaky she felt it was still something she’d had to do, the complete lack of rationality involved not really factoring into it.
When her phone went off, she nearly jumped a foot in the air. She had just been waiting around for so long she’d almost forgotten about it. Fumbling with the rather impractical bag she had eventually settled on she pulled it out and brought it up. She used to carry quite a lot with her, but now she found that a lot of was just unnecessary, really.
"Hello?" She asked. Down the line came a very familiar quiet hissing and popping sound and she sighed happily; it was comforting, in its way. It was him.
"Hello little girl. I’m just ringing ahead to say I’m going to be a little late. You’re not waiting for me, are you?"
"Uh, no, I just got here. It’s fine, I’ll wait."
"Good girl. I hope you’re wearing something more appropriate this time."
"I’ll have you know it’s very appropriate! I even made my, you know, all smooth! At least one of us can be professional."
"Impressive, but are you sure?" He asked. Those little static sounds that so characterized his phone-calls were there, but quieter than normal; his voice was clear. Very clear, in fact; it seemed to fill her whole head. She blinked.
"Of course I’m sure!" She said, a little insulted. There was, however, the tiniest sliver of doubt. Was she sure?
"Maybe you should check."
"Check," there was no leeway in the way he said this, and she realized this.
"H-how?" She asked, quietly, looking around.
"You’re a big girl, do I really have to explain it?"
Heart racing and face flushing she looked around a little more, aware that there were people about but that beyond the odd glance here or there she was largely being ignored. Very quickly she hiked her skirt up and peered down. She must have looked ridiculous, but that wasn’t the point. Feeling the blood rush to her head she was relieved to see that, yes, she was just as smooth as she thought she’d been. It was rather pretty, actually; sort of hard to stop staring at.
"I checked!" She said, happily, straightening her skirt. Glancing up and down the street she was greatly relieved to see no-one looking in her direction.
"Well done. But you just looked, didn’t you? You need to touch, I’m afraid. To really make sure," he said. Immediately her heart started racing.
"Wha- I - I…" she protested even as she moved her free hand under her skirt. Her words trailed off into meek little whimpers as her fingers started tracing and stroking over her bare slit, eyelids flickering. The man on the other end of the phone seemed to realize.
"That’s my girl, that wasn’t so hard was it? Just keep touching, don’t worry about anything else," he said and she found herself relaxing; there really wasn’t anything else worth worrying about anyway, and she really was so very, very smooth. And soft. And wet.
"Mmm - uh - yes…wasn’t hard…" she panted. It was taking a lot of effort to keep standing, and the heels she’d picked weren’t helping.
"Just starting playing, little girl; it’s okay, I’ll let you," he said. She didn’t need much more encouragement. Biting her lip to stifle a particularly loud gasp she slid a slender finger into herself, body jerking as she did so. She kept playing and gasping and moaning, phone pressed to her ear the whole time.
"That’s it, that’s it, just keep playing, it’s so nice, isn’t it? I’ll be with you soon, my girl, and we can have a nice talk. Won’t that be fun?"
"Yes…fun…" she groaned, mewling softly as the line went dead. She watched helplessly as gawping passers-by stared at her but couldn’t stop even she had wanted to, and she didn’t want to. She was, after all, a professional.
We’re having a party, and this is the entertainment. She puts on quite a good show as a cage dancer, especially when denied orgasm for a very long time, and finally given the chance to pathetically grind her clit on the chain that Daddy locked around her crotch. Once I find a nice gag for her it will be time to begin.
She has no idea that a pair of slavers have been hunting her for the better part of two weeks. Following her, learning about her and her routines. Hell, last week they broke into the apartment and set up spy cameras everywhere including two in her shower.
But after two weeks of stalking, they could could no longer contain themselves. She has been captured and defeated. Her fate, kind or cruel is completely in the slavers hands. And they are not kind at all.