Preface

The Slave Factory: Total Power Exchange

This is the third and final volume of the sexually erotic and BDSM themed Slave Factory Trilogy. It begins approximately three years after the events that unfolded in Volume Two. As in the previous edition of this series, a significant portion of this story is targeted towards the drama aspects as control of Per il piacere del Maestro itself is at stake.

Fitzpatrick McMullen has risen to the rank of Council Lord in his quest to remove the stigma of evil that permeates The Company. He has vowed to bring about reform and changes to his beloved organization or destroy it. Lord Bishop believes that Fitz's goals will destroy Per il piacere del Maestro. This time, Slave Tonya must come forth to rescue her beloved Master.

 

Another Damn Bottle of Wine Charles...

"And dammit, bring it now! How many times have I told you... now means NOW!" ordered the screaming beet faced Lord Bishop, his mood worsened because he'd been forced to yell when Charles had failed to respond to him the first time. He had been debating on getting rid of the old fart, maybe it was time to give that some further consideration and find a replacement.

He tried not to allow his thoughts about Charles to cloud his thinking. He would never admit that the aged house servant was probably the one person on Earth that actually cared about him; his fucking father sure didn't, of that he'd been assured many times. Charles was used to Bishop's complaints about his father, and cringed every time he heard him wishing that his father would "Just fucking die!"

"Did you call, Sir?"

"Of course I did you old bastard, can't you see my glass is empty? Can't you see the bottle has been drained? How many fucking times over how many fucking decades have I told you that a slave's place is to anticipate the needs of his Master?"

"I'm not a slave, Lord Bishop."

"You lazy bastard, yes, that is correct... and that is my mistake. I should have done what that son of a bitch McMullen did and claimed one off the auction floor. Maybe I would get better service from a real slave, trained to serve instead of the piss ant slow motions you deliver."

"Yes Sir," Charles replied, pausing for a moment before turning away. As he headed to the wine cellar to fetch another bottle of wine, he slowly shook his head in despair. It wasn't that he minded being called an old bastard nor did he resent Lord Bishop's use of the slave word; what bothered him was that he knew that the man he'd served and loved like a son since Bishop was a young boy would not stop with drowning his anger with liquor. He was certain that terrible events would follow and Lord Bishop's wrath would be felt, he had seen him like this many times before and it seemed that someone always ended up missing when Lord Bishop's ire was raised. It saddened Charles to see Bishop suffer.

It seemed longer to Charles but it had been only three days since Lord Bishop had arrived home after the monthly Council Meeting with his fellow lords but it had started a month before when Fitzpatrick McMullen's name was submitted as a nominee to be ordained as a Council Lord, to replace Lord Barry after his death.

Although he did not consider himself a slave, he did refer to his employer as Master and in most situations, he used the title of Master both in private and on the rare occasions when Lord Bishop hosted one of the other Lords for dinner.

Lord Bishop's mood when he'd arrived home after the nomination had seemed jovial, however as he contemplated the possibility that Fitzpatrick McMullen would indeed arise to the position of Council Lord, a buildup of snide remarks quickly evolved into a rant. Charles knew that eventually Lord Bishop's rants would turn into orders to one of the men that worked for The Company. He had seen these men with no souls come for orders often after Lord Bishop's ire had been triggered.

Lord Bishop was certain that McMullen's claiming of Droit du seigneur would forever ban him from obtaining a high office within Per il piacere del Maestro, even though McMullen had succeeded Supreme Regional Master Henry. By the time Lord Bishop had finally passed out that evening, he ranted on and on over how McMullen was a forty-third degree Master while his own legacy was only forty-second. The bastard McMullen actually outranked him by a generation; even his ancestors had let him down.

"That bastard could ascend to Supreme Grand Master Charles! I would be required to kneel and bow to that son of a bitch and call him Master... Goddamit!"

Charles filled his Master's wine goblet and replied, "Surely not Master Bishop, you have seniority and you are the Supreme Grand Master's Advisor. Surely, he would never..."

Lord Bishop threw the glass against the fireplace, interrupting Charles, shattering the centuries-old goblet into a thousand pieces. Charles winced because the value of the glass on the open market was more than several months of his salary.

"That cockroach, he should have never been allowed back into The Company. He should have stayed in exile with that bitch whore he claimed; that figlio di puttana did not deserve to be forgiven after what he did and how much he cost us."

Charles refrained from commenting that it had been Lord Bishop himself that had contacted former Supreme Regional Master Henry to induce McMullen back into The Company after the FBI raid on the New Canaan facility. Instead, he walked over to the house bar and obtained another wine glass, choosing one that was of lesser value, hoping his Master wouldn't notice.

"McMullen is a damn throwback; thinks he's some kind of white knight, saving the princess! Did I tell you that he caused the death of one of our best patrons? That bitch of his; what's her name? Tonya... yeah, the cunt cut his goddamn cock off. She castrated him Charles!"

"But Sir..."

"All that money... gone too! We had to steamroll The Academy, and spend millions building a new one... all because that bastard didn't want to be alone while he rotted away waiting to die of old age. Millions lost and millions more spent because he..."

"I'm sure that things will work out Master Bishop," he offered, along with the new glass filled with wine.

"They will, they will indeed."

The cold delivery of Lord Bishop's final remark would stay with Charles and haunt his dreams, as he feared what actions his Master would take in the days ahead.

In the months that followed, Charles hopes were raised that perhaps his original concerns had been overly drastic however that day when Lord Bishop returned from his weekly visit with the Supreme Grand Master and summoned Bellator Thomas, his fears returned.