Brianna Becomes the Lady 4

“Congratulations, Margitte, you are going to university,” Willow said. “You will live in a single dorm room, and I have selected your major and your classes. You are now a psychology major.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Margitte said in her white latex as she knelt for her dominant passively.

“This is the preparation for your true calling, a cover story for when I call you to service,” Willow added. “You will do as well as you can in college, that has been programmed into you.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Margitte said in response.

“Remember, turnabout is always fair play,” Willow said. “You have the ability to turn things around if needed in any situation. Turnabout is always fair play, Margitte.”

“I understand, Mistress,” the beautiful young soon to be college girl replied.

“And physically, dear you are very impressive, able to fight, always looking beautiful, the curves, you are exactly what I need…” the domme said, eying the tall, buxom blonde. “And exactly what men like…”

Margitte left the Winchester compound and started life as a college student, months after her captivity and enslavement began, as a totally new person with a well developed cover story. She tried to keep a low profile on campus, though that was difficult being a beautiful blonde with assets, but she kept to herself, mostly.

Some weekends, she told the campus friends she had that she was heading ‘home’ for the weekend, and went back to her Mistress for more training and reinforcement. But this weekend was showtime. Time for a task.

Margitte made it to the fancy night spot called the Power Club, as programmed and made her way to the VIP club on the top level of the building, where she met up with two other of her Mistress’ more pretty thralls. For all who were observing, they were looking like a trio of VIP wannabe’s having a night out on the town. She was dressed in a very tight, short spaghetti strapped red sequin dress, scandalously short, with seamed thigh high stockings and 3 inch red stilettos, her blond hair curled, makeup tasteful and sexy.

With her height, enhanced breasts, and very fit body, she was exactly the ‘it’ girl that a man like Ian Gruber looked for at his club. Mistress’ other thralls, sent to keep an eye on Margitte, and other women at the club in general, looked like plain janes in comparison.

When Margitte Magnussen walked by, Ian Gruber followed her with his eyes. So did most everyone in the club. And Margitte knew it.

Willow Winchester knew that Ian Gruber’s club was a front for his real business- one that rivaled her own. Her goal was to get her prettiest asset, Margitte, inside and take a peak around to see Gruber’s inner workings, or possibly take the rival slave trader down- leaving more of the pie for herself. Now she had three well trained thralls on the inside of his club, in his presence.

The owner of the club, Ian Gruber, strode in confidently and took up residence in his normal VIP booth. As usual, all eyes followed the handsome club owner, his looks, muscular figure and dark eyes all captivating.

The three shared laughs, danced and ordered drinks throughout the night, all while eyeing the handsome Ian Gruber, who simply held court from his own booth in the corner of the club, a place where he could see everything. Girls moved in and out of the booth, some sitting awhile, some standing a short while, but all moved on eventually.

An older looking woman entered the Power Club, and made her way from the entrance to the edge of the dance floor. She definitely seemed out of place for this club, thought Margitte, as the woman walked directly past her, before abruptly stopping to face the club owner.

From her purse, she pulled out a handgun, and pointed it at Ian Gruber.

“You! It’s your fault my daughter is missing!” the dark haired woman yelled, taking aim at Ian from 10 feet away.

Margitte took note of what was happening, and instinct took over. The tall blonde took a long stride, balanced on her left heel, and kicked upward with her right foot, making contact with the woman’s gun hand, resulting in the shot going wildly high. Before the would-be assassin could get off a second shot, Ian Gruber’s security team moved in, and the security professional with a clear shot took aim and hit the woman square in the chest, as chaos erupted in the club.

The shooting security team member walked to the body, kicked the gun away and looked for a pulse.

A second security guard landed atop Margitte, as most patrons ran for cover or for the exits, including Willow Winchester’s other two thralls who would disappear into the night and head back to avoid police interaction, a directive from Willow herself. A third security team member landed on Gruber.

“Clear the club,” Ian Gruber ordered. “Take her to my office, make sure you get her information and make sure she is not injured, move, now…”

Margitte was taken to the office of Ian Gruber, where she sat with a pair of large security guards, who made sure to do as instructed by the club owner.

Ian Gruber stayed in the main club, where police put the pieces together, as his security team stayed with Margitte. Eventually the police took Margitte’s statement and the premises were cleared.

“She’s dead,” the guard said, looking for some form of identification, which they did not find. That information was sent to Ian Gruber and his team. The slave trading club owner was now facing some heat- an attempted assassination and now scrutiny as to why this woman would try to kill him.

Law enforcement arrived quickly, and got into their methodical investigation.

“Shooter at this time had no identification, but claimed her daughter to be a missing girl, any reason why she would target you, Mr. Gruber?” a law enforcement officer told the club owner.

“People go missing all the time,” Gruber replied. “No idea why she would target me. I run a clean club, you have my permission to search the place.”

The police accepted the courtesy, and searched the club and were satisfied after the search revealed nothing unusual. The lead law enforcement investigator told the club owner she was most likely a distraught mother and not stable, and he would be in touch.

Once the place was cleared, Ian Gruber made his way to his office, where Margitte still waited with two of his large security team members.

“Be ready to take her wherever she needs to go when I am through,” Gruber told his head of security who walked with the club owner as they stopped at the entrance. “Something is off…This does not pass the smell test…”

“Not at all, Mr. Gruber,” the large bald security chief replied. “I will have our team investigate all of the players here…”

Ian Gruber walked into his office.

“Leave us, gentlemen.” Gruber said with a wide smile. “I need to thank my saviour, here.”

The two guards inside left, as Margitte looked up at the tall and rugged man.

“First of all, thank you my dear,” Ian Gruber said as he sat in the office chair next to the beautiful blonde. “I am Ian Gruber, owner of the Power Club, and the man whose life it was you saved tonight.”

“Margitte Magnussen, Mr. Gruber,” the college girl said softly.

“Are you hurt at all, Miss Magnussen?” Gruber asked with a purpose, reading her body language and response.

“No, just a broken heel,” Margitte replied, holding the two pieces of her shoe in her hands.

“How did you do what you did?” Gruber asked, leaning closer to Margitte.

“Self defense classes and karate since I was 5,” the girl said, the planted backstory coming easily from Willow Winchester’s conditioning.

“Impressive, Miss Magnussen,” Gruber replied. “I do wish to show my gratitude so my security team will pick you up tomorrow at 5 pm for dinner. I know a nice place to go where I can give you a proper thank you. I will not take no for an answer.”

Margitte smiled, and said “Ok, Mr. Gruber.”

Gruber went to the door and called in his security chief.

“Miss Magnussen, this is Augustus Giannoulis, my head of security. He will take you home personally and ensure you are settled and safe,” Gruber replied. “He will also be picking you up tomorrow.”

The bald security chief and Margitte nodded to each other and shook hands. Margitte took her cue to stand and approach Gruber.

“I am glad you are ok, Mr. Gruber,” Margitte said as she followed security.

“Good night, Miss Magnussen,” Gruber replied, his right hand placed thoughtfully on his chin. “And thank you again.”

Security took Margitte back to her dorm room, while Gruber began wondering about the incident.

“Nothing about tonight makes sense….” the businessman who owned clubs, restaurants and also was a slave trader thought to himself, his belief that the incident was related to his slaving business.

* * *

Once back in her dorm room, a single unit that shared bathroom and kitchen facilities with three other single occupants, she settled in and flipped on and off the light in the window, signalling she was back from the mission. She took out a notebook and wrote a note by hand.

“While at the club someone tried to shoot Ian Gruber, I saved his life by taking out the shooter. Gruber is taking me to dinner tomorrow at 5pm. No idea where. His security team will pick me up at 5pm. More after dinner tomorrow.

MM”

She ripped the note out of the spiral notebook, which had 499 pages left of the 500 pages it started with, folded it and put it on the desk in the room. She then went downstairs to the dorm security desk and used the phone to order sushi, from a number she had programmed into her head for late night delivery. Margitte walked back to her room to get the note, and cash, then waited. Eventually she met the delivery driver in front of the guard at the front desk of the building, and gave her the handwritten note inside the cash she paid with, as instructed. Margitte then walked upstairs, tossed the sushi into a garbage can before she made it to her room, where she promptly got ready for bed.

Margitte had a very restful sleep, knowing she accomplished a mission goal of getting closer to Ian Gruber to find out more about his operation and techniques, one that Willow Winchester hoped to capitalize on.

* * *

Augustus Giannoulis, with a driver, arrived at precisely 5pm, where he found Margitte Magnussen dressed in a very nice, but not overly elegant black dress, stockings and heels, not knowing the destination or the dress code. The massive security guard walked over and opened the door for the blonde, who got into the car believing she was prepared by her Mistress for whatever lay ahead.

As Margitte and company made their way across town toward one of the fancy establishments owned by the wealthy slave trader, Ian Gruber was handed a note by one of his security members. A notebook page, with pencil scribbled on it.

“We got our guy into her room, Sir,” the man who handed him the note said. “This was page two of a brand new notebook. Page 1 is gone. Seems your girl wrote a message to someone.”

There, with pencil scribbled completely across the page, was the indented message from page one, looking like a photograph negative. White letters, black background.

“While at the club someone tried to shoot Ian Gruber, I saved his life by taking out the shooter. Gruber is taking me to dinner tomorrow at 5pm. No idea where. His security team will pick me up at 5pm. More after dinner tomorrow.

MM”

“Good work. See where that note went. Follow it to the end,” Ian said as he got up and walked over to the waitress, giving her instructions, before heading back to the table in the corner of the private room. His wheels were turning, but he had a distinct idea what was happening.

The successful businessman and slave trader stood and moved to greet Margitte, looking stunning in her little black dress, greeting her and guiding her to the table.

“Welcome, Miss Magnussen,” the host said. “I own this place, so obviously we have this room to ourselves.”

“That’s amazing, Mr. Gruber,” Margitte responded.

“Just a lot of hard work,” Ian replied. “And please, call me Ian.”

“Ok, Ian, I’m Margitte,” the blonde replied demurely.

“That’s a very unique name,” Ian responded. “So thanks again for last night, Margitte,”

“Oh well I just reacted,” Margitte said with a shoulder shrug. “That’s all.”

“Well it’s great you have such reactions,” Ian replied. “At least for me.”

The pair laughed.

“To be honest, you shouldn’t have even been in my club last night, you aren’t even 21, are you?” Ian asked, tilting his head in an inquisitive way.

“No, Ian, I’m 19,” Margitte said. “I guess it’s a good thing I have a great fake ID.”

Margitte laughed, trying to play off the comment.

“Maybe so, Margitte,” Ian replied, as the waitress came over to take drink orders. “You are full of surprises.”

Margitte was careful in her conversation, especially after the tip off of her being underaged and not legally supposed to be in the club.

“Give me a club soda, Jodi,” Ian started. “And bring my lifesaving friend one of our special drinks, non alcoholic for our under the drinking age guest.”

Margitte opened her mouth to say something, but she looked at Ian who cut her off.

“It’s tropical and sweet, Margitte, try it, I guarantee you’ll like it,” Ian insisted. “What are you studying at school?”

“Communications, for now, maybe psychology,” the girl answered.

“An interesting combination, for sure,” Ian said, as the drinks were left on the table.

The host raised his glass.

“To the beautiful young lady who saved my life, I am eternally grateful,” Ian toasted, watching carefully as the young lady sipped her non alcoholic beverage and nodded.

“I see you like the drink, Margitte,” Ian said, holding up his glass.

“It is very good, you were right,” the blonde replied, taking another sip.

“I usually am right, Margitte,” Ian replied. “The more you get to know me, the more true that is in reality.”

Margitte laughed nervously, knowing the man was a trader of flesh. Usually beautiful female flesh.

“I guess I will find out as dinner goes on,” the blonde replied.

“Perhaps, Margitte,” Ian followed. “Take a drink, tell me what flavors you find in your cocktail.”

Margitte complied, and took another drink from the glass.

“Citrus… maybe grapefruit?” she asked slowly. “Maybe a little orange?”

“That’s two, Margitte,” the man said, making a game of the girls’ drink. “Focus on the non citrus now.”

Margitte again drank a bit more.

“I think a club soda, there is some bubble, not much…” Margite said, feeling a bit flush suddenly.

“Feeling okay there, Margitte?” Ian asked with a crooked smile.

“Yes… just a bit warm suddenly… that’s all..” she stammered.

“I noticed, Margitte,” Ian said. “Take a nice drink, it will cool you off.”

“Yes, I guess you’re right…” the girl answered, taking a bigger drink from the tall glass.

“See, I told you that you would find out I am right,” Ian reminded. “Go ahead, you look flush my dear, take a nice big drink.”

Margitte picked up the glass and was nearly un-lady like as she took a very long drink.

“That’s better, see, I am right,” Ian said. “Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, Ian,” Margitte said, putting her hand to her forehead.

“Good girl, you are almost there,” Ian praised, confusing Margitte. “Finish your drink.”

“Ok…” Margitte replied, as she picked up the glass and finished it.

Margitte sat, staring off into space, as security motioned to Ian.

“Excuse me a moment, Margitte,” Ian said, standing up. “Business calls, I will be right back.”

Ian strode quickly to the security team member, who offered an update to the slave trading businessman.

“The note went to a sushi place,” the man said. “The girl used the phone at the desk of her dorm building. Here’s the interesting part, the sushi place is in the WInchester building…”

“Son of a bitch,” Ian said. “Poor kid here is a trojan horse. Well, let’s see how easily I can break that bitch Willow Winchester’s toy. I was originally just going to get information and send her on her way, but now things are changed. I am ending this rivalry for good. Excellent work…”

The security chief nodded, as Gruber returned to his date.

“That’s a good girl,” Ian said, calling the waitress over. “Bring the cart in, now.”

“Yes, Mr. Gruber,” the waitress answered.

As Jodi the waitress went to get the cart, Ian Gruber moved closer to Margitte, and took a pen light from his inside jacket pocket and flashed them into the eyes of the 19 year old blonde.

“There you are, in a very nice warm place,” Ian said. “Feeling very relaxed, Margitte?”

“Yes,” the girl replied slowly and sluggishly.

“That’s very good,” Ian said. “I know all about the setup, young lady.”

Ian produced the second page of the notebook, which had the message indented into the paper, the white of the paper indents highlighted by pencil all around it.

“You wrote this, my dear,” Ian said as fact, not a question. “Who did you write it for?”

“I don’t know…” Margitte said a small struggle was visible.

“I see, you have been trained well, but it won’t matter,” Ian responded. “But not well enough.”

Margille’s programming from Willow held for the first question. But Ian Gruber decided he was playing the long game.

By then the waitress had brought over the cart, and waited for anything else the pair may be ordering.

“Jodi, be a good girl and kneel here for me,” Ian said to the waitress, who immediately complied and knelt where the dominant was pointing. Eyes down. Chest out. Hands presenting breasts from underneath.

Margitte knew something was off, but in her current state, could not exercise a flight or fight response.

“I see that struggle, my dear,” Ian said. “Desperate to run, desperate to fight, but nothing kicking in. That’s the drug in your drink, Margitte. Renders people docile and receptive to suggestion.”

Margitte could simply only sit and look at Ian and listen. Try as she might, she couldn’t muster anything to resist or even try.

“Close your eyes, Margitte, it will help you with the processing of this drug in your system,” Ian instructed. “Breathe deeply and steadily now.”

Margitte tried not to, but her eyes closed shut. Deep breath in, and out.

“Good girl, Margitte,” Ian said. “If that is even your real name. Now, until I instruct you to stop, every time I snap my fingers you will open or close your eyes. The snap of my finger will trigger that action.”

SNAP

Glassy blue eyes opened.

“Good girl,” Ian said.

SNAP

Eyes closed.

“Good girl,” Ian praised.

“Who did you write this note for?” he asked again.

“I don’t know…” Margitte responded.

SNAP

Eyes open.

“What’s your name?” Ian asked.

“Margitte Magnussen,” the blonde said.

“Who did you write this note for?” the large slaver asked again.

“I don’t know…” Margitte replied again.

“Your responses are a well conditioned response,” Ian said, flashing the penlight into the eyes of the blonde again. “But I will break you, and you are going to love me for it.”

“Slave, let’s get the drugs working more quickly in our pretty little friend here,” Ian said. “Crawl under the table and excite the bitch.”

“Margitte, be a good girl and spread your legs,” Ian ordered, smiling as she complied.

The waitress, a cute girl next door 20 something, obeyed. She crawled under the table, removed Brigitte’s panty and began working on exciting the young lady.

Jodi eventually was ordered to stop, and remove herself from beneath the table. Margitte was panting, spacy, pupils dilated, excited. All the signs Ian Gruber was used to seeing before moving along. The waitress resumed her kneeling posture.

“Very good, slave,” Ian said, watching Jodi the waitress kneel quietly, smiling, knowing a job was well done. “Margitte, kneel next to her, now.”

Margitte moved and knelt as Ian suggested.

Margitte was left more flush in the face and close to the edge as the slave trader asked another round of questions, not breaking Margitte’s programming. But Ian moved to push her along.

“No matter, Margitte,” Ian said. “I will break you in the best way possible. Crawl to me.”

Despite an effort to resist, Margitte did as she was instructed, crawling, stopping between his legs.

“Use your mouth to get me excited, Margitte,” Ian said. “You don’t have to enjoy it, but you must do it. Now.”

Margitte processed the command, and used her hands to unzip and button his pants, then pull the pants and underwear out of the way. Her will to resist, a small spark, crumbled.

Margitte slowly licked, then began using her mouth, bobbing up and down slowly as he got larger. And larger. And larger still.

“Take your time, Margitte, show what a good little slut you can be,” Ian said. “Eyes on mine, listen closely..”

Margitte continued her slow, methodical up and down strokes, while looking at the professional slave trader, part of her amazed at the size of the manhood he possessed.

“That’s the perfect look for you, Margitte,” Ian said. “On your knees, cock in mouth. Soon it may be your livelihood. But for now, this is how I will break you.”

Ian pushed Margitte’s head down, waiting for her to gasp for breath before releasing her.

“That’s to let you know I am always in charge, Margitte,” Ian said calmly as Margitte continued to work on the man’s shaft. “Stop, but keep using your hands and listen carefully to what I say like your life depends on it. Because it actually does.”

Margitte stopped working the slave trader’s shaft with her mouth, knelt, and used her hand as she listened carefully.

“Jodi, get the pink tray from the bottom of the cart, and put it on the table,” Ian ordered.

Jodi moved and picked up a small, covered, dinner plate sized tray and placed it on the table. Ian pulled the lid off, and in the tray was one pink, and one blue tablet.

“Jodi, take the pink pill, now,” Ian ordered and watched as the girl obeyed.

Margitte continued her kneel and stroke, keeping Ian fully aroused.

“This is the latest from my chemist,” Ian said. “The pink will cause a woman to fall submissively in love with whoever takes the paired blue pill and finishes inside of them t. Once you exchange fluids with each other, it’s sealed. The pink is submissively in love with the blue…”

Ian picked up the blue pill and showed it to the pair, laughing as Margitte continued looking as she continued her bobbing up and down on Ian’s manhood.

“Slave Jodi, strip and use your hands to get aroused now,” Ian suggested.

Jodi stripped, lay on the floor, and began using her hands as Margitte never stopped working, never stopping her hand or listening to Ian Gruber, as instructed.

“Stop now, Margitte,” Ian commanded. “Have a seat and enjoy the show. You are incredibly horny and desperate. Use your hands to finish as many times as you can while you watch while still paying attention to what I say and do.”

Margitte moved to where she sat earlier, moaning a desperate moan, her hands now pleasuring herself.

Ian then instructed the waitress to lay on the table, then straddled Jodi, and began to roughly penetrate the slave, who became very vocal in her excitement as the largest phallus ever inside her pistoned away.

“This is not lovemaking, slut,” Ian grunted. “This is a fucking.”

Margitte used both hands as she watched, her goal to finish as many times as she could. As ordered. The pair, as well as the solo operating blonde, became very vocal in their actions, causing Ian to smile.

“While I am fucking this slave here, Margitte,” Ian said, staring at Margitte as he pounded Jodi. “I am preparing you for being totally fucked…”

Ian finished inside of the slave, waitress and now defiled Jodi. Margitte finished for the first time just after.

Ian stood, redressed calmly and instructed them both to kneel at his feet. Margitte was used to kneeling, but this was for someone new, kneeling next to someone new. Margitte did notice the look Jodi was giving the man. If she could process things in her drugged, aroused state, Margitte would have been nervous.

“Slave Jodi,” Ian began, staring at Jodi. “How do you feel about me now?”

“Oh my god… .Master….. I love you…..” She said, her facial expressions reminding Ian of a lovesick puppy.

“Of course you do,” Ian said. “And you are also my slave, aren’t you my dear?”

“Yes… Master…” Jodi answered, previous programming evident in the reply.

“Good girl.” Ian said, as he walked over to the door and called his security inside. “On my lap, Jodi.”

The girl rapidly got off the floor and sat on Ian’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and nuzzling into him like lovers do.

“Pay attention, ladies.” Ian said, smiling and waiting just a moment for full effect.

“Security will take you to the ranch, Jodi,” Ian began. “You will be servicing any men you are set up with, because I want you to. As you serve them, you will deny them nothing. In fact, each man you service at the ranch you will believe is me, and you will refer to them all as ‘Sir’, and do your sluttiest best to make sure they have the time of their life, do you understand?”

“Yes, Master,” Jodi said, processing it all. “I would love to!”

“You are very happy about this because I am happy about it, isn’t that right, slut?” Ian asked, knowing the answer.

“Yes, Master!” Jodi said enthusiastically.

“Good girl,” Ian said, almost nonchalantly tossing the girl aside. “Take her.”

Security took Jodi, naked, from the building and had her on her way to the ranch for her to complete what her Master, the man she loved, wanted her to do. Be a whore. And love it.

Once they left, Ian pulled a second pink tray, identical to the first, from the cart, opening the top.

“Take the pink pill, Margitte,” Ian ordered, as he took hold of the paired blue pill himself.

Margitte struggled a moment, but picked up the pink pill, and the water in front of her.

“Cheers, darling,” Ian said, making the motion with his glass, taking the blue pill in his hand. “I am not going to finish inside of you tonight to seal the deal. Pay attention sweetie.”

Margitte’s focused on what the slave trader was saying, courtesy of the drugged, non alcoholic, fruity drink she consumed laced with Gruber’s formula for inducing suggestibility.

“But as time goes on, your attraction to me will only grow. Your desire for me will only grow. Your need for me will only grow. Most importantly, your intense need to be mine, will grow. You want to not just be my slave, but you want to feel the added layer of being helplessly in love with me. As time passes this week, you will want to do anything to please me so I will be the man you love desperately. Your own desires will break you.”

Margitte’s struggle ended and she took her pink pill.

“Good girl, Margitte,” Ian said with a smile as he picked up a small vial and poured it into a small glass of water. “Drink up, darling. This will ensure you don’t remember a thing. Just what I want you to remember.”

In the recesses of her mind, she realized she would be as love struck by Ian Gruber as she watched Jodi become. The training Willow gave her didn’t prevent anything, simply made her aware at some level of her predicament.

All American girl Jodi was sent off to be a whore on a ranch. Because Ian wanted her to. And she loved it because it pleased the man she had just fallen in love with. Margitte watched the whole scene, but could not prevent herself from doing anything but what Ian Gruber told her to do after the drink.

And now she helplessly took another drink, drugged by Ian Gruber.

“There’s a good girl,” Ian said as he took the glass. “Trust me, I have done this before. I know just what to do..”

Margitte’s eyes glassed again, and her mind become wide open for what Ian Gruber wanted to feed into it. He had a plan. A devious one.

“I know you belong to Winchester,” he began. “And I am going to break you and send you back. But first, you have something you must do every day this week. Each day you will receive a present in a plain white box. It will be left for you at the security desk of your dorm. It will be from me, slut. You will love what you receive every day, because it is from me. Each present makes you more and more desperate to be my slave, and to be in love with me. After classes you will be very eager to use what it is I give you, do you understand?”

Margitte nodded her drug-addled mind as she absorbed the suggestions.

Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, Margitte was terrified.