The renegade ex-white slaver known only as Tyler had met Mistress Elizabeth before ... just as she was starting her horrid career as captor and tormenter of pretty young ladies. But, tragically he let her, and some of her perverted brood, escape. This time he's tracked her down to a dance academy, where two lovely hopefuls disappear -- primed to be the star attraction at the next white slavery auction. From New York to Los Angeles, Tyler fights Miz Liz and her freaky family as they set upon a third target: the most beautiful dancer on the sexiest TV dancing show ever. But can even Tyler hope to foil this depraved cabal in time?
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All the divergent forces of her sudden captivity came into sharp, painful, focus. She was lying on her side on a mat inside a secret room. Her wrists were sewn together. Her ankles were locked together. An unforgiving obstruction was lodged and secured in her mouth. And then the man fell on her again, his tearing at her chest and crotch.
“Get it now?” he whispered cruelly into her ear. “You’ve been sighted, scouted, and snatched, bitch.”
For all the protection her dance outfit afforded her, she might as well be naked. In fact, it was worse than being naked. Her skintight, sweat and drool-soaked outfit only enhanced her extraordinary sexiness.
Tod just seemed to be coming to that conclusion himself when he saw that Anne wasn’t looking at him in fear. Instead her wide azure eyes stared helplessly at the two way glass behind him. He hazarded a glance back toward the studio, and all thought of Anne suddenly was joined in his head.
Vicki had unbuttoned her coat and was taking it off, a small smile on her sultry face. Tod’s “FBI” – Female Body Inspector – skills came instantly to bear. Even in her blue, ribbed, cotton/nylon turtleneck top, wool skirt, and high heel leather boots, Tod could estimate that she was five-six, a hundred and ten pounds, thirty-six, twenty-four, thirty-six. Double D.
She had jade, almond-shaped eyes, a strong, straight nose, and rich, pouty lips in an oval face -- framed by a mane of wavy, dark-red, hair parted on the side.
Tod thought that his birthday had come early that year.
“Annie?” she called as if she thought the other girl was playing hide and seek. She started to move slowly around the room. “Annie?”
Tod heard Anne bleating beneath him, He looked down at her tense, shapely form on the floor. Anne’s torso was almost completely off the mat. Her shoulders were tight with the effort. Her head was jutting forward as she tried to push her cries of warning through the gag. She stared right at Vicki, who was totally unaware of the situation. Liquid dribble poured out the side of Anne’s mouth as she struggled, her face red with the effort, beads of sweat covering her forehead.
Tod calmly reached back into the bag and pulled out what looked like a grey elastic band. It was almost three inches wide and three inches around. He forcefully pulled it down over Anne’s shaking head like Vicki’s turtleneck. It wrapped around Anne’s mouth and head like a coat of paint. The ball and her lips were prominently outlined behind it, but its thin interior padding not only sopped up the drool, but almost completely quieted her grunts. It reached from just under her nose to the very edge of her chin.
“Yeah,” Tod murmured. “’Member when Mistress Elizabeth attached the lung capacity mouthpiece to your head with the thin strap so she could go to the loo?”
Tod lay on Anne’s and looked back at Vicki. The girl was wandering around the studio like a lost sheep. He started grinding his hips against the blonde’s as if using her shape and Vicki’s sight to masturbate.....