Greed!

GREED

Book 1 of the Million Dollar Chronicles

By

Sir Thomas

I remember that Gecko character in that movie saying, "Greed is good." Since seeing that film I've discovered greed has its consequences and pitfalls as well. Certainly money is a good reason to do almost anything beyond the bounds of common sense. But there are other reasons to push the limits of reality as well. This is my story.

Chapter 1

Introductions

Casey:

I had arrived in New York like so many other model-wannabes hoping for instant success and instant riches. I thought I had the figure and the face but I was just under six feet tall and they all wanted more height. By my estimate I was four inches too short. Not that I didn't keep trying. I must have sent photos to twenty different agencies. I simply kept getting letters saying 'Thanks but no thanks'. I thought the long blonde hair and the pert breasts would get me in but it wasn't to be. I tried for months but after a thousand dollars worth of professional photos and countless nights working at every fast food restaurant and two-bit diner I could get work at just to survive in the Big Apple, I was beginning to get desperate. I just didn't have the luck that I thought I would. That was until I applied at Jupiter Collectables.

Jupiter Collectables was involved in antique jewelry. They had been in business for roughly twenty years from what I could gather. No, I didn't find work as a model immediately. But I discovered shortly after starting work there that they were their own advertiser. They used their own employees as models. Each week we all participated in modeling the new pieces that would arrive. We were given a one hundred dollar bonus for each shoot. Finally I started making a little extra cash.

As months went by the other help found better jobs and left me with more hours, more responsibility, and more work of course. Eventually I was the only person other than the manager, Fred Coupling, that was left to attend to our clients. Out of necessity more than desire, I learned more and more about the business. Mr. Coupling apparently was impressed.

It was early summer of the year 2008 when I finally got to see the owner. Paul Simmons had flown into New York from his ranch in Nevada. He was younger than I imagined, perhaps in his early thirties. He was just over six feet tall and sported a thin mustache. I guessed he was either Latin or Italian, probably a little of each.

His wife and two beautiful female assistants accompanied him. I took notice immediately of the female assistants. They both were dressed identically. Both were made up exactly alike including the same shade of eye shadow, lipstick and rouge. They both wore their hair in ponytails held in place with identical gold bands. Their blouses were the same shade of beige and they were long sleeved, which seemed strange for this time of year. Their pants were the same black leather cut and their shoes were the same five-inch spiked stilettos.

They also wore a black cloth band round their throats. In the center of the bands were bright singular buttons. One wore gold. The other wore silver. It seemed out of place, even with these unusual outfits.

They both hung onto identical black leather purses. The purses were quite large which hung off their left shoulders. They never seemed to move their left hands from them, as if they were afraid someone might steal them. And they kept their right hands inside their pants pockets.

The most amazing thing about them though was that they remained absolutely silent. They didn't even part their lips but a handful of times as if their mouths were full.

The wife, her name was Marie, led the women away after the quick introductions. Still they only nodded. Strange!

The owner, Paul Simmons, talked with the manager for a moment then introduced the help, me! I was the only employee left, of course. Mr. Couplings gave me high praise and it seemed that Mr. Simmons was quite impressed. I couldn't say much.

I was left to tend to the phones and the counter while the bigwigs discussed whatever they tended to discuss. They sat at a table in the back of the room. Mr. Simmons constantly looked up at me in quick glances. When our eyes met I couldn't say anything of course. I just smiled. He smiled back.

I overheard him say something like, "I'll talk it over with Marie," before he headed upstairs. It made me curious.

*

"What do you think," Paul asked.

"I like what I see. You think she'll bite?"

"Probably, but I have my doubts. I don't think she'll go the whole nine yards. Maybe though. A million bucks is a lot of scratch."

"It buys a lot of privilege though. If she accepts, she'll be well aware of what we expect before she signs the contract."

"I've been through this before, Love."

Paul glanced up at the two silent servants. "Yes, I know you have."

"You know, Fred's going to be pissed. We've used up all his other help. Shame they weren't up to it. I hope this one stays a lot longer."

"That's just the luck of the draw. Our friend back home seems to like the stock from here more than our other sites. I'm sure it's a burden for Fred but it's going to be a few weeks before she has to leave. He has at least a month. If necessary we might be able to move a couple girls from the Philly office. The initial fitting takes two weeks to set up and the first outfits won't arrive for another month beyond that."

Marie nodded.

"That gives him six weeks to find a replacement. Fred should be fine. There are plenty of people in New York looking for a job. He won't have any problems. Maybe he'll find another candidate. Anyway, our friend will be here any moment. Why don't you take the gags out and I'll go get her."

*

When I entered the guest room I found Mrs. Simmons reclining on the loveseat while the two girls were seated in single chairs, sipping water. The girls had finally put down their bags and seemed to act more at ease. They both smiled as I entered.

Mr. Simmons sat next to his wife. "You're probably wondering if there's something wrong. Relax. There isn't. From what we've heard you've done a wonderful job here. We're quite impressed actually with your photos and we're well aware of your modeling interests. We have a proposition for you, a proposition that could make you a tremendous amount of money if you're interested."

My eyes immediately lit up. Big money? Finally I was going to get that modeling job! But it wasn't to be for as soon as the wife opened her mouth I knew there was something that was going to drive this conversation onto a totally different track. How different it would be I had no idea!

"Casey, tell me something. Did you find anything strange about our two servants when they arrived?" she asked.

"Well, yes, of course. They both are dressed alike. It's almost like they were trying to act like twins. But it's obvious they're not."

"Well that's kind of obvious. Anything else that seemed strange?"

"Well, when I first saw them they didn't say a word. I also thought the bags were a bit large."

"What about their hands?"

"Now that was unusual. I couldn't understand why they kept their right hands in their pockets. I could see them resting their left hand on their purses. I mean it looks all sort of natural at first glance but when you stare at it…"

"We were bound and gagged," the girl on the right interjected. She seemed to mention this fact in a manner lacking any sort of excitement. It caught me off guard.

"Excuse me?"

"The gold bracelets we're wearing are handcuffs. See?" the girl on the left noted as she held up her wrists.

"And the gag is made from a leather plug that's bolted to our tongues," the other girl said as she held up an oval shaped piece of leather.

I looked at both like they were visiting aliens. "And why on God's sweet green earth would you do this? Are you nuts?"

"Of course their not nuts," Paul stated resoundingly. "They're just doing what we pay them for. Sandra is about to cash in on her third million. Even after taxes she'll have close to two million in the bank. Joanne, that's the one on my left, doesn't get paid as much since she's agreed to an easier schedule. But she's been with me for seven years now."

"Are you saying their sex slaves?"

"Sandra's a sex slave. Joanne's a bondage slave. She doesn't do sex."

Then it finally hit me. The reason for this little meeting was evident in their faces. "You're offering me a job doing this? That's how I'm supposed to make all this money?"

"Does the sex part bother you?" Marie asked.

"It all bothers me! I'm not a whore!"

"I'm not saying you are," Marie said.

I stared at them a moment, stewing in my own angry fumes. Damn, I had all these dreams. I was going to be a model. I was going to be making a million bucks a session. I never figured on getting involved with a bunch of perverts.

Then I thought about the bait. A million bucks is a lot of money. I wondered what I'd be expected to do. It had to be horrible. That's what I thought until I looked at the two girls. I had to ask myself why they weren't running out the door. I knew there was nobody to stop them. It wasn't too hard for them obviously. The girl on the Simmons' right wasn't making nearly as much money and she wasn't running. I knew I'd regret it but I had to ask the questions. There was too much money involved.

"You said a million bucks. How hard is it to make that kind of money?"

"Very hard," Marie noted.

"OK, tell me the details. I promise to remain calm."

It was Marie who gave the explanation. "We have two levels of service, bondage slave and sex slave. Sex slaves are bondage slaves that do sex."

"I figured that much out. What else?"

"Bondage slaves work five consecutive days during the week. We have flextime if you like. From Saturday till Friday there has to be five days worked in a row. The bondage slave selects which ones they want to work. They usually take the weekends off. Our bondage involves all sorts of gear; gags, harnesses, leather, pvc, vinyl, heels, boots, chains, rope. As long as it's safe, we do it. Bondage slaves also must allow for dildos and enemas, not exactly something we enjoy discussing at length you understand. We keep everything sanitary though. We're very careful about that."

"How much does a bondage slave earn?"

"A bondage slave earns $100,000 for a year's work. Five thousand is paid after the first month and the remainder is paid upon completion of the contract."

"And to earn a million a year, I suppose I would have to let you have sex with me?"

"Yes, but a million dollars buys much more. For that million, sex slaves work 24-7. They get no time off and they are treated much more harshly. Sex slaves have sex on command, all of it oral sex. We will determine who you have sex with and you will not refuse. If you do, you'll be fined severely. If you refuse often enough, you'll be fired. You'll be expected to have sex with both my husband and me, on command!"

"I'm not a Lesbian."

"For a million bucks, you'll have to learn."

"You ask a lot," I said. But my eyes betrayed me."

"We pay a lot and we expect our money's worth. If this is too much for you, I'll stop wasting our time. Should I stop?"

I thought for a moment. "No," I croaked. My mouth seemed so dry suddenly. A smile appeared on Paul's face first. Then I noticed they were all smiling. They realized I was hooked. They realized it before I did.

"I suppose I should continue then…"

She went into a lot of details, far more than I expected and far racier than I thought my ears would take. But I sat there stoically knowing that I would be a million dollars richer in a year's time. It was an offer I couldn't refuse. Greed is such an ugly thing!