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| Blogs > SubMonique101 > Katherine's Descent |
29 March 2014
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29 March 2014 Following the typical message at the beginning of the week from Mr. Paul, I was surprised once again the unusual run up my first 'amateur night'. I had battled within myself for several weeks if I was actually willing go through with taking the step that initially had interested in this activity...but never thinking it would involve being a participant, even if only as a temporary agreement. Once again the morning of the auction a large Fed Ex box arrived. My instructions gave me directions Roberta's beauty salon, so she wasn't lying when she told on New Eve that her services included prepping slaves for presentation. Peeling back the packing paper my eyes grew wide as I saw how I was going be presented later that night. It was a simple sexy black and white lace French Maids uniform. One that you might find in any costume store before Halloween, with a pair of 3" black strapped heels and lace top black stockings. I laughed to myself that maybe I had earned the black uniform since there seemed to be no other path that laid ahead for Kate. When I unpacked the box there was another note laying on the bottom. I thought it would be more instructions, but I was pleased to discover it was a note from Mary, 'I have to go back east for a couple weeks. Family problems, but I did finally convince Mr. Paul to give me your phone , so I will call once I get back in town. Enjoy not having to work as Kate. I just found out it's going to be the first amateur night in a couple . Just my luck miss this one. Love, Mary xox'. Sitting down on my couch I was disappointed read that my emotional crutch wouldn't be there through the night. My doubts and insecurities suddenly blossomed as I looked back and forth from my laid out feminine uniform up the video on my big screen. It was 'the' video, that I must have watched a thousand times attempting find something, or anything that tied my identity the activity that became my first step down this current path. The video that Mr. Fred took was quite shaky and amateurish. It was just one long continuous take. Even when he would move through the crowd to a different position he would just point the camera down at the floor until he was in another position and only then raise it up. The only angle that fully exposed my face was just a close up, actually most everything he shot was closeups, so the more that I had watched it the safer I felt about being a part of any porno Mr. Fred was producing. Just that one shot was all that tied me to the night, but not connecting me with the sexual act he documented. Mr. Paul had assured me several times over the past months that although my information had been sent out into the dark web, that any pertinent information (ie-name, location, phone #) was still only accessible by him. The final offer he put forward was that he would pull my sale the night of the auction before the final bid was gaveled. If I gave him a non-verbal signal while being sold on-line he assured me that all bids would be halted, so here I was driving down Ventura Blvd. expecting another night to remember. The last thing I remembered, after I woke up in the hospital, was seeing a flash of a blue car out of the corner of my eye running the stop light and t-boning my car. When the nurse saw that I was awake she ran out of the room and called for a<b> doctor. </font></b>Looking around groggily I was on an IV and I could tell from the casts that I had a broken arm and leg, Just then the<b> doctor </font></b>came in with a big smile on his face, "Well, there you are. It's been a couple days. You took quite a big hit to your head." While trying to take this all in I had to ask, "What do you mean a couple days?" The<b> doctor </font></b>looked at the chart he was holding to fill me in, "You were lucky. The other guy didn't live. He was in a police chase and hit you going 60. The concussion was the worst of it for you, and it took a day or for the swelling go down. We were hoping you would wake up sooner, but now that you have, things should start returning normal." Nothing seemed normal after losing a couple days. That was about the time that I remembered where I was going before the crash and wondered what the ramifications for not attending the auction was going be for Kate. I asked for my cell phone and the<b> doctor </font></b>picked it up off the table near the bed, "Don't use it too much. You need another day or of bed rest and observation before I'll feel good about releasing you." I thanked him and waited for them leave before I turned my phone on. As I had expected I was faced with a barrage of and phone messages, but my main focus was finding any from Mr. Paul, which there were numerous messages, both and voice. The messages started out questioning where I was and then turned ones of concern and finally anger. I could tell that he thought I just disappeared and blew the night off. When the next last one was dated the morning of the thirty first, 'You have no idea how much trouble you've gotten yourself into. You fucked up you dumb bimbo sissy bitch.' It was like a knife through my heart reading these until I found his last one only received less than an hour ago, 'A driver from our limo service recognized your totaled car on a You Tube 'L.A. police chase' site. I just saw it on line. Tell if you need anything. Hope you are OK? What hospital did they take you? We need talk because I didn't know what happened you until right now." I quickly texted back and waited for his call. Less than a minute after it was sent my phone rang and I answered it before the second ring, Once again, as always he broke right in control the conversation, "Hello, my broken little sissy slut. It was Mr. Paul, "We've had slaves try almost anything possible NOT be sold, but you took it to a completely different level." Thankfully, this had eased my nerves and initial concerns. We talked for the next fifteen minutes when I told him what I remembered about the accident and then he told me what he saw, "I'm glad you're safe, but when you didn't show up I had to tell Fred, and he berated me for being so soft on you. I'm not sure where you stand anymore with our syndicate." I wanted to plead my case, but he didn't allow me the chance, "All I can say is that I'll do my best to defend this set bac Hope you'll be back normal before the next event on June 28th. I'm scheduled video conference with our foreign investors this wee I know your name is going come up. I'm hoping that when I show them the video of your car accident it should stop any kidnapping plans that may have already been set in motion." When I hung up my cell phone I noticed the heart monitor was racing, so much that my nurse came back into the room to check on me, "Are you okay? Maybe it's time to put the phone down for a couple hours and get some rest." I just smiled and nodded as she checked my monitor as the pace of my beating heart lessened, "After seeing that crash video on-line you're lucky you got a chance at a second life." That wasn't my problem, it was what kind of life would it be, and if I had already lost control of it. |
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