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Jason flipped the switch down and the static was gone. He turned back to Carolyn. "Mario will be down shortly ... meanwhile, I think it's time we began your basic training." Jason gestured toward her dress. His voice was sterile toned and clinical. "Would you remove your clothing, please?" Carolyn stared at him, not believing what her ears told her was true. Surely this man could not expect her to casually disrobe before him?
Jason busied himself at the counter preparing another nipple-capped bottle. He poured in a meager amount of milk, held it up to read the measurement, nodded curtly to himself and screwed on the plastic cap which held the rubber nipple tight to the bottle. Then he turned around.
"I thought I told you to take your clothes off." His voice was harsh now, the painted-on smile of amusement gone. His voice cut into her hesitation like a steel saber plunged deep in her belly. "What for?" Carolyn asked weakly, one hand clutching at the dress front.
"Never mind what for!" Jason's eyes narrowed. His hand flashed out and cracked across her cheek, hard. "Ohhhh!" "When a dog refuses a command, he is whipped." Jason pulled the long braided whip from the wall and tapped it impatiently into his other hand. "I hope it will not be necessary to demonstrate, Carolyn."
"You can't threaten me," she sobbed, rubbing the red marks which scored streaks across her pale face. "Take off your clothes, Carolyn." Jason said coldly. She cowered in the corner, trapped like one of Jason's animals between the counter and the wall while he stood firm on spread legs blocking the only escape. The whip slapped with clock-like regularity against his palm.
"Take off your clothes, Carolyn." He repeated as he dropped the loose end of the long whip and laced it across the floor, making it serpentine with soft scraping noises against the waxed gray tile. Suddenly he pulled the handle back and flicked the lash around her ankle with a jerk. She fumbled for her balance and grabbed at the counter for support. The whip coiled around her ankle like a steel snake, leaving a red brand wherever it touched, a brand that ran thick red blood and dripped upon the clean tile.
"Next time," he said ominously, loosening the whip lash with a quick motion of his wrist, "next time ... higher." Carolyn bit her lip to keep from crying out. There was a band of fire about her ankle and she could feel the warm drops pulsing out and puddling on the floor. Surely he had known her resistance was only token. She knew, more important he knew, she had admitted defeat the day she had watched those terrible films. Jason took advantage of every opportunity to nurture his cruel appetites. Carolyn refused to cry out with the pain. She refused to allow him that pleasure ... and she began to unbutton the blue dress.
Chapter 1 The hand-wrought iron sign which hung over the heavy carved wooden doors of the main gate read: ROYAL BENSON KENNELS. But to those who recognized quality, it said 'expensive.'
Carolyn Vance pressed the call button and listened expectantly for the harsh ring of a bell somewhere within the grounds. There was no sound. Perhaps the bell was out of order, or perhaps the buildings were soundproofed. For a large commercial kennel, it was surprisingly silent behind those high walls. No dogs had barked at her approach. There seemed to be no sound at all beyond the high-walled grounds. That was odd, she thought.
Then the faint static of an intercom called her attention to the intricate iron grillwork just above the call button. "Royal Benson Kennels. May we be of service?" The voice was definitely male, but veloured by good breeding and years of servitude, like an unobtrusive English butler.
"Yes," Carol answered in the general direction of the soft static sounds. "I'd like to see Mr. Benson please." "Mr. Benson sees no one after working hours without an appointment. I'm sorry. Would you care to telephone for an appointment tomorrow?" the illusive voice said. "You will find a rack of business cards by the bell, the telephone number is located in the lower right hand corner. Please telephone at your convenience."
Carolyn raised an eyebrow. My, aren't we exclusive, she thought. "I do have an appointment with Mr. Benson," she said politely, "a 7:00 o'clock appointment and it's just 7:00 now."
"One moment, please," the phantom voice purred. Carolyn sighed gently. It was such a relief to find a job after such a long time. She was tired. It had been a long walk in high heels from the nearest bus stop, especially carrying a suitcase full of clothes, but she had walked rather than spend her few remaining dollar bills on taxi fare. She leaned against the high wall with its cornice of black iron spearheads. Attractive she thought, sort of 'old worldish' and elegant ... though rather dangerous if one of the dogs, or anyone else, were to try to go over the high wall.