Preface

The Slave Factory: Exposed! This is the second volume in a planned trilogy about a secret organization with roots that date back nearly two millennia. In the initial volume, Per il piacere del Maestro and its training center The Academy, served as the mechanism through which an eclectic collection of characters are passed on their way into a year of servitude and slavery after a grueling training program of Dominance and submission that involved extreme sexual and edge-play BDSM practices.

Significant reader feedback from volume one The Slave Factory posed the question, which was what happened next? What is in store for the staff and students, of that secret organization known only to the elite of the lifestyle, and of the place called The Academy? Read on to find out what volume two has to offer Fitzpatrick, Tonya, the Mistresses and Masters, and former students from The Academy. This time, there is a lot more going on than just scenes played out in the dungeon and in bedrooms.

This is the continuing story of the graduate students of Per il piacere del Maestro and the Masters and Mistresses of The Academy, and the wealthy Dominants and submissives who paid millions for their pleasure. The malevolent Conner Brennan, AKA Mr. Green, believes he was cheated out of his property. He feels the only way to appease his anger is to settle the score. As he considers his options, so the thrilling next part of the story begins!

Mr. Green's Anger

Conner Brennan's anger at having the pretty Slave Tonya snatched from his grasp had not subsided in the least. By the time he reached the terminal at JFK, his being pissed off had reached its zenith. The blank stare and scowl on his face frightened the little girl that sat across from him as he waited for the announcement of his boarding call. The way he occasionally looked at her made her cover her face as she snuggled tightly against her mother in the US Airways boarding area for Flight Seventeen to El Paso.

He felt that nothing was going right. It all started when that asshole Fitzpatrick butted into his business all-gallant like. He thought aloud to himself, "Who does he think he is pulling some shit like that, claiming some Android Do Signor bullshit. What the fuck did that mean again? What was it that new head bitch Katherine had called it? Oh yeah, 'First Night,' yeah okay I've got an announcement for his 'White Night Ass' too!" Of course, this would not be the end of that situation; of this, he had no doubts.

Brennan was pissed off and now he had to travel all the way to Phoenix...sit for two more hours just to wait until his final leg to El Paso could begin. He was further pissed about the numerous no smoking signs posted big as day throughout the terminal. Those signs were keeping him from smoking his long awaited Cuban cigar that he had brought with him to celebrate acquiring a new slave bitch. Just the thought of taking that long endless walk was enough to make him change his mind especially when it meant having to reach the outside areas just for a few minutes to take a draw and puff. That would also require another pass through the fucking security systems that kept the terrorists and psychopaths off the airplanes, or so they claimed. No thanks; he decided to pass on that.

"Fuck this shit," he finally exclaimed loudly, causing even more distress to the little girl across from him who cowered closer to her mother's side.

He reached inside his coat pocket and after glaring angrily... relentlessly at his boarding pass, he ripped it into a half dozen pieces and threw it onto the terminal floor. Thirty minutes later, his anger still growing and like a festered boil, he sat and fumed some more while he waited for his private jet direct-charter to El Paso to be fueled up, rolled out of its hanger, and readied for flight.

Brennan pulled out a cell phone from his coat pocket, the one that automatically scrambled the audio and began punching in the number for his chief lieutenant.

"Benny, its Conner here, I'll be touching down in El Paso in about three hours. Get on the phone, arrange a car and driver, and reserve a couple of rooms at the El Paso Marriott. Once you get that handled, then I want you to haul your ass down there as well. We're going to take a little trip over to Juarez and do some shopping."

"Sure Boss," Benny replied, "Is something wrong? You sound like you're upset."

Brennan grumbled back, "I've had better days."

Benny replied, "No problem Boss, you want me to line up some Texas Pussy for you?"

"Nah, if I want some ass, there's plenty of it around; I've got more important needs to see to at the moment. Contact that fucker Rodriguez down in Mexico and tell him I'm looking to do some business with him."

Brennan was certain that Rodriquez would know exactly what kind of business he had in mind since they had discussed what Alejandro Rodriguez had to offer the last time he had gone south of the Rio Grande. Only Brennan's desire to have the best flesh that money could afford kept him from buying one of Rodriguez's whores the previous time they had met two months earlier.

"Do you want Senior Rodriguez to meet with you in El Paso?" Benny asked.

"No! Tell him to get a room at the El Paso Suites in Juarez under the name of Pablo Gomez, and tell him we will meet him there around seven-tomorrow evening. Tell him to bring his catalog."

"Will do Boss, I'll call you back as soon as I get all of the arrangements setup."

As Brennan waited for someone to fetch him for boarding, he rolled his cigar between his fingers. He intended to have it lit by the time the wheels of his plane left the ground. He continued to fume about being fucked-over and cheated out on owning Slave Tonya. "No cunt-bitch was worth fifty million goddamn dollars," he told himself in an attempt to stifle his anger, even a fine looking little piece of candy as she had been.

He just wasn't able to get that Head Master bastard out of his thoughts or off his mind. He had never liked the son of a bitch, with all his polite mannerisms, protocols and nonchalant bullshit. For a moment, Brennan considered getting even with Fitzpatrick. He fantasized that maybe having his new bitch stolen right out from under his high-class assed nose, from inside his own fucking bedroom, under his so-called watchful eye, that would teach his stuck-up superior ass a lesson...the prick. A moment later, another onset of anger hit him. He whispered under his breath... "Nobody fucks with Conner Brennan and gets away with it... nobody! It's time someone imparted a little street knowledge into his punk ass."

Brennan did not like being blindsided, not for one minute. Knowing what Fitzpatrick's last name was, it would be a snap to fuck him over; one phone call would do it, easily. Nah, he thought, that would be too easy and too easy on Fitzpatrick McMullen. That bastard needs to be taught a lesson and he felt he was just the person to get the job done. Moments later, a young lady in a powder blue flight attendant's uniform walked up to Brennan and informed him with a sweet congenial voice, "We're ready for you Sir, if you will just follow me."

Brennan looked up to see the woman standing before him, "Right, it's about time," Brennan snapped, "What's your name Honey?"

"Danielle," the attendant replied cheerfully.

"Danielle huh... Good, you can be a real sweetheart and pour a double shot of Wild Turkey for me," Brennan said, as he followed the girl towards the airport tarmac he added, "No ice." He liked the way her ass bobbled as she walked a few paces ahead of him. He wondered how much of a tip he would have to lay out to get some head off the bitch once he had his drink; not much probably, he assumed.

Fifteen minutes later the jet had reached its cruising altitude while Brennan leaned back in his seat as he continued sipping from his highball glass, marinating in his thoughts while Danielle sucked on his cock. Despite Danielle's skills, Brennan continued to focus and churn on the events of the evening. He wondered if that bastard McMullen would have stepped in and fucked him over if he had selected one of the other slave bitches like Slaves Lilith or Wanda. The longer he considered that, the more convinced he was that it was personal.

Mr. Green, the name most members of Per il piacere del Maestro knew him as, had developed quite the reputation for giving women all that they could desire. Of course in the end they would all pay a price. Ever since that one bitch tried to kill herself by slashing her wrist, he was convinced that the former Head Master had it in for him. Why was that his fault? If the bitch hadn't wanted to serve and be used, then why the hell had she offered her ass up on that auction block? "Fuck the goddamn lot of you," he fumed, "fuck The Academy, fuck Per il piacere del Maestro, and fuck you Mr. Smart-ass Fitzpatrick McMullen!"

A tingling feeling deep in his nuts temporarily interrupted his upset as he realized that the flight attendant was about to bring him to a climax. "I don't want to see a single drop of cum dripping out of your mouth!" he exclaimed. Danielle looked up and nodded her head as much as she could with Brennan's cock buried deep inside her throat. A moment later, a hot load of Brennan's semen blasted out of his cock into Danielle's mouth.

Danielle fought hard to keep from gagging at the fowl taste of her passenger's semen and although some of it managed to slide down the back of her throat, she retained most of it inside her cheeks. Quickly, she returned to her service station where Brennan could no longer see her. She spat out all of his cum that she had held inside her mouth into a black garbage bag. She grabbed a can of grape soda, gulped a mouthful, swished it around a few times and spat it out; it took four additional mouthfuls to get rid of his awful taste.

"Hey," Brennan yelled from his seat near the middle of the plane, "Do you have any halfway decent steaks onboard this fucking flight?"

Although she wanted to stay as far away from her passenger as possible, Danielle returned to where Brennan was sitting so she would not need to yell her response. She saw that his pants were still down on the floor where he had ordered her to pull them earlier.

"Yes Sir, we have several cuts for your pleasure, Rib Eye, Porterhouse, and Filet Mignon."

"Good, make it a Porterhouse, well-done, with lots of steak sauce on the side. Also, bring me another double Wild Turkey."

"Yes Sir," was Danielle's reply, as she turned away from him and returned to her prep station, desperately wishing she had never sold her mouth to the bastard for a measly five hundred dollars. She was convinced that Brennan had not bathed his body in hours, more like twenty-four hours; the odor coming from between his legs had nearly made her retch. His cock had tasted salty and there had been a strong ammonia smell coming off it.

Danielle, slowly shaking her head considered what she had done; the things I do to support my kids she lamented.

With his balls well drained, his glass refilled with Wild Turkey, and the smell of his steak grilling, Brennan's thoughts returned to Per il piacere del Maestro and the events at the auction. His anger returning, he grabbed his phone and punched in the number for William Baxter. It instantly went to voice mail, which only further stressed his sour mood.

Brennan took a deep breath and calmed his voice before recording his message, "Bill, Conner here... I've got something you and your boys might want to check into, as I am pretty sure it is illegal."

Brennan debated whether to go into details but then added to his message, "Have you ever heard of some outfit called Per il piacere del Maestro? They're an international outfit that deals and dabbles in sex and slavery for money, or at least that's what I've heard, and who knows what else. Just the kind of thing you Bureau people like to sink your teeth into. Give me a call back and I'll tell you what I know about them. You're going to owe me another one for this." After hanging up, Brennan punched in Benny's number again.

Benny pressed the hands free-button on the steering wheel as he picked up speed along the Interstate. "Yes Boss?" he answered.

Brennan demanded, "Are you en route down to El Paso yet?"

"Yes Boss, I'm just leaving the Vegas area as we speak."

"Have you done what I told you to do?" Brennan asked.

"I did Boss, you are all set to be picked up in El Paso once you land, the rooms at the hotel are booked, and I got hold of Rodriguez for you. He said to tell you he thinks he might have just what you need."

"Fine," Brennan replied with a heavy grin, "I've got one more thing that I need you to attend to as soon as possible. Call Johnson and have him start looking into an asshole named Fitzpatrick McMullen. He's in his mid to late fifties and he was living up in Connecticut somewhere I'm pretty sure. I'm not entirely sure that's his real name or not, but it's all I have so far. If Johnson can get a picture of the bastard, I'd be able to identify him."

"Okay, I'm on it Boss, is there anything else?"

"Nah, I think that's it for now. Just tell Johnson that he needs to put a rush on this; that bastard may be hard to locate if he doesn't move quickly. I'll see you down in El Paso in a few hours."

Brennan leaned back in his chair after pulling his britches back up although he left them loose and unbuttoned; he was contemplating whether he might feel the need to have his cock sucked once more before touching down. His cigar had gone out but he had it burning again a few moments later. He passed the time with idle thoughts speculating on what it might cost to get that attendant Danielle to come to his hotel room in El Paso for the night. Just look at her, thought Conner Brennan, she looks like she likes it rough and hard.

What Brennan knew he really wanted was to be standing over that little bitch Slave Tonya, holding his red-hot branding iron between her legs. He was not sure what he liked most about those first moments down in his dungeon alone with a brand new slave. He wondered, perhaps it was the acrid smell of a woman's burning flesh that excited him the most or was it the fear in her eyes? There were also the screams that no one could hear but him and hell, they all screamed. Maybe what he enjoyed most was the knowledge that the woman would be branded and marked forever as his property for all to see. His mark forever labeled onto the woman's body, his initials burned into her flesh. Perhaps it was simply the permanence factor of the scaring on a woman's leg allowed him to remember his experience and excitement long afterwards.

One delicious idea flashed into his head as he stared out the jet's passenger window into the darkness, and that was having McMullen there to watch him as he burned his ownership mark into the bitch. That would be top-shelf, Brennan thought, prompting him to form his first smile since leaving the auction in Blue Hall.

He felt confident that in time, the little Per il piacere del Maestro bitch would lie under his hot irons soon enough, for now he would have to settle for the bitch that Rodriguez would provide, and at the moment, that was enough for him to think about.