Background research

Mark took Nikki to the oak paneled library. He had picked her up from Tran’s salon, her skin smooth and glistening, her body clean inside and out, her hair elegant in a classic chignon pulled back off her forehead and up off her neck. He had helped select the final dress she was to wear from three choices Tran offered up to him, had picked out her shoes, a special collar, and some make up. All of it had been sent ahead to his quarters to adorn her right before she was to leave for the date.

Now she was to learn about the mysterious Charles Tilton. She would be expected to make intelligent conversation, ask probing questions, comment knowledgably, and all of that required preparation.

Mark handed Nikki a stack of materials and set her up at a low table by the window. The table was the height of a Japanese dining table, just right for her to use kneeling on a small cushion. She immediately assumed the position she had been taught, knees wide, ankles below her ass, back straight, sex hanging open.

“Tran did a lovely job, girl. The redness should die down in a couple of hours, and you look so nice and polished. Excellent!”

Nikki was embarrassed. Mark was talking about her pussy, commenting the way one might ordinarily talk about a nice haircut or an attractive outfit. He was her trainer, and therefore he had the right to talk about her most intimate areas. But it was still a shock to her.

“Charles is an important guy, Nikki, I don’t think I can emphasize that enough. He is used to being with people who are familiar with who he is and what he does. He likes girls who are smart, worldly, knowledgeable, and I know you can impress him. I’m going to give you every advantage possible, provide you with all the backgound you need.”

Mark put a stack of documents on the table, “I’m giving you 5 years of annual reports for all the companies where Charles sits on the board.”

He added a three ring binder, “Here are the press clippings covering his social appearances and his family background.”

He put a set of glossy photos on top, “his family and close friends, each photo is labeled on the back – be sure to pay special attention to these, he’s been known to bring photos from recent vacations on dates and you can impress him by knowing who the people are.”

He followed the photos with manila folder. “in here you’ll find a summary of his likes and dislikes. It includes favorite foods, books, movies, leisure interests, travel destinations, hotels, and his pet peeves. By the way, he has a particular aversion to people calling the toilet the little boys room or little girls room – if you do that, he will black ball you from the sale. I know you won’t but be careful! And memorize this list.”

Finally, Mark handed her a 11x17 sheet with boxes and names. “Start with this, it’s his biography, family tree and corporate organization chart – these are the key people he’s likely to talk about at dinner, it will help you a lot to know who they are as you try to follow his conversation.”

It was a lot of material. The stack had to be 18” tall. But Nikki was used to plowing through dossiers bigger than this. In her old life, she had researched people, synthesized hundreds of documents, learned the likes and dislikes of the executives in her clients’ organizations. Nikki was ready. This was what she was best at.

“I know you will do well. But you need to do exceptionally. The more you can learn this afternoon, the better of an impression you will make and the better the likelihood of a positive review for your portfolio. You can really distinguish yourself here. Make me proud! I will be back in two hours.”

Nikki started to examine the documents. The family tree, biography, and org chart were pretty straightforward. Charles had been married for 42 years to the mother of his three daughters. He lived in Atlanta. He had attended West Point and the Harvard Business School. Had served in the Navy in the Pacific during the post-Korea era.

He was a retired from his role as an executive at a company that made parts for lawn mowers and tractors. He had served on the board of directors of his daughter’s school, the art museum, and a major hospital. He was currently on the board of four companies; the one he had retired from, a company that made coated films used in safety glass, a company that made equipment for corporate call centers, and a company that made label printing equipment. All basic manufacturing.

Charles’ three daughters were grown. One lived in Malaysia, with her husband and two children, working in public health. The second lived in New York, was single, and worked as a textile designer. The third lived in Atlanta, near her parents, with her own family, and did not have a “job outside the home” as they say. There were six grandchildren, two with the oldest and four with the youngest. Nikki had a moment contemplating the fact that Charles’ daughters were older than she was, and his oldest grandchild almost ready for college! But she was starting to get used to the idea that he was old.

She turned her attention to the annual reports, working her way up from the bottom of the stack. All of his businesses were relatively small, under $500 million in revenue. They were business-to-business companies whose primary customers were other businesses rather than consumers. And they had all grown by acquiring other businesses in the same market, kind of a roll-up strategy.

She looked at the financials in more detail. There were some good signs, strong cash positions, good earnings per share, consistent dividend payouts. But there were some issues as well. Revenue was stagnant; what growth there was, was coming from acquisitions not organic growth. Charles had obviously made a pile of money with these companies. The future was less clear. These were all traditional industries, and probably threatened by international competition.

As Nikki worked through the stack of materials she felt like two sides of her brain were fighting with each other – one side, a professional, an executive, knowledgeable, intelligent, decisive, capable; the other side, a slave, pure sex, obedient, submissive, without responsibility. Here she was, using her skills, her knowledge of business, of people, of financial markets, of strategy, but to be a better slave. She would review a P&L statement, look at cash flows, stock price history, and she would lose herself in the data for a moment, forgetting that she was in fact a slave. But then it would come rushing back at her… she had given herself over to this.

Nikki felt her submission, maybe more acutely now than ever before. This reminder of her old life, what she used to be valued for, was almost shocking. She felt it like a warm fist in her core, deep up in her. Now her value wasn’t about how much money she could make for a company, it wasn’t about her acumen or her insight, wasn’t about her negotiation skills. She would be valued for her intelligence, yes, and her knowledge. This task was evidence of that. But it would be mostly about her obedience. Her ability to give herself over. Her ability to follow.

It was incredibly erotic. Inexplicably erotic. Sure, it was the relaxation of it, the removal of responsibility. It was the removal of all anxiety. But there was something more about it. Something that made her wet, warm, open. Just thinking about it, realizing it, yet again, she felt her desire surge. Felt the rush of warmth in her crotch. Felt the blood on the surface of her skin. Felt like her brain was expanding in her head. And knew that her pleasure was just below the surface. That it would take almost nothing to push her over the edge. Incredible.

Nikki turned her attention back to the task, trying to focus her brain despite the arousal. She blinked, twice. Looking now at the photos and press clippings. He was a prominent member of Atlanta society and there were quite a few photos. They showed a trim, fit looking older gentleman, distinguished. Lovely looking family. There were pictures of him with his wife, with his daughters, with the extended family. Pictures of him at fund raisers and with local politicians.

It was hard to believe that he was a slave owner. He seemed so “normal”. Seemed just like hundreds of men she had met during the course of her career. But he liked to buy and sell women, command them, make them do his bidding. He liked to gag them, tie them, maybe even beat them. He liked to be able to touch them where ever and whenever he wanted. And he was allowed to do that in this special place were Nikki was. He would be able to do all that with her.

She looked at the photos again, trying to imagine it. Trying to imagine this man, this father, this husband, this businessman, trying to imagine him touching her. Trying to think about what it would be like to be on the date with him. She paged through the photos of his grandchildren, his house by the beach in South Carolina, his ski vacation out west. She read all the captions. But her mind was racing. What was he going to want from her? She couldn’t read anything in his face.

Nikki was so absorbed in her work and her thoughts that she didn’t hear Mark coming up behind her, until he had grabbed her leash and given a sharp yank to her collar.

“So, my slave, have you finished reviewing it?” Mark’s voice was serious, but she could see the pride and confidence in his eyes. She knew he knew she was done. She knew he knew she had learned it all, memorized the names, figured out the financials, drawn conclusions about his business philosophy, his politics, and his interests.

“Shall we do a little quiz?” Mark was teasing now.

“Yes, Sir, if you wish, Sir.” Nikki was looking forward to showing off.

And sure enough, he rattled off question after question and each one, she had on the tip of her tongue. The names of his kids and grandkids, his last three vacations, the names of his companies, the political candidates he had supported. She got every one right.

“Oh, Nikki. I’m so proud!” Mark genuinely sounded happy. “I knew you would do great on this.”

Mark leaned down and kissed her tenderly on the lips. “You know you make me so proud. What a brilliant slave you are.” He caressed her shoulder.

It felt great. She basked in his approval. He had so much power; fed her, clothed her (when he felt like it), gave her pleasure or pain, whatever his desire. So making him proud, feeling his happiness, was even more wonderful. More wonderful than anything she had felt in her life. She smiled up at him.

“Now lets go get you ready. It’s almost time.” Mark pulled on her leash, and she fell into step right behind him. Happy to be his girl, happy to have completed this last task. Not knowing what came next, but ready for it, wet and open, her arousal just below the surface.