CHAPTER TWELVE

ACQUISITION

He walked in the lobby door at 8 o'clock the next evening. He drove his Mercedes CL to the portico and abandoned it, thoroughly expecting that a valet would magically appear to park the car. The man was dressed to color coordinate with his vehicle…black on black. He was dressed in Armani from head to toe…black silk, black polished wool and black leather. His swarthy complexion blended well with his jet-black hair, which was impeccably metro-styled. A well-groomed three-day five o'clock shadow made the whole package look sinister. The man was dark both inside and out. He carried an aura that screamed a combination of unquestioned power and danger. His black fingerless leather driving gloves added another layer of threat to his image.

Morris, the evening receptionist, jumped to his feet. The man coming toward him scared him to death. He began stumbling through the standard greeting… "Welcome to the Hermitage. My name is…"

The visitor never let him finish his little speech. "Tell Miss Gwyneth that Kane is here."

Kane obviously didn't care what time it was or if Gwyn was busy. He deliberately used the term "Miss" to emphasize his lack of respect for the Mistress of the Manor. He looked at and through Morris as if the poor lad was simply a hologram. Ignoring the standard protocol of phoning Mistress Gwyn, Morris sprinted off to locate her and warn her of the tempest waiting for her presence in the lobby.

After the call to Master Kendrick, Gwyn had wasted no time contacting Salvatore Torello. "Yes," Torello was familiar with Kane. He had worked with some of Torello's associates on unrelated business matters. In fact, Kane's presence might be helpful in removing the "problem" being held in isolation. A word of unsolicited caution was offered. "Do not insult the man by mentioning money. He knows the value of what he wishes to purchase and will offer you such. Do not argue. And for God's sake, Gwyn, don't make him mad. I have no intention of being on that man's shit list; neither should you."

Gwyn was still in her office. She did a quick mirror check and practically tripped over Morris on her way out the door. She caught herself in mid-gasp as she rounded the corner and saw Kane. He was absolutely gorgeous…impeccably dressed, incredibly handsome, physically fit and completely Alpha…the perfect Dom. He locked eyes with her as she crossed the room to greet him and she could feel her knees becoming weak. She surrepitiously wiped her sweating palms on her skirt as she stretched out her hand to greet her next "cash-cow".

"Lord Kane, I am Mistress Gwyn. We have been eagerly expecting your arrival. Salvatore Torello speaks very highly of you. I hope that we can provide for your every need."

Tired of the formal ass kissing, Kane got right to the point. "I know that you will, Miss Gwyneth." He was subtle in his statement, but the meaning was huge…the term Mistress did not apply to this woman and somehow she had no other option but to see to his needs. "Take me to your office so that we can conduct our business. I expect you have a good white wine." He headed in the direction from which Gwyn had come.

Gwyn trailed behind like an obedient pet. Her years as a sub flashing in her mind, Gwyn could picture herself under this man's leather. Feelings long dead began resurfacing. Unfortunately, his loathing for her would keep any hopes of physical release a fantasy for her alone.

Kane sat in the over-stuffed leather chair with his right ankle crossed over his left knee, a glass of wine in hand. Gwyn could not bring herself to sit at her desk but opted to sit submissively across from him on the couch. His last statement had taken her a moment to process fully. "I am in need of a new slave/trainee. My last one was, unfortunately, not strong enough emotionally and as it turns out…physically. I want one that is still green and with enough fire to challenge me. I am not interested in a frail bimbo. I want a woman equal to myself in stature and mind. I intend to break her and re-make her to my specifications. I am told you are in possession of such a woman…a woman whose presence here is posing a problem to the organization."

Kane was referring to Plum. How could he possibly know about her? Of course, he spoke with Salvatore! "We do have a potential problem. She has been isolated and caged for the past few days. We cannot allow her to return home. How can you prevent the expected investigation into her disappearance?"

"That, Miss Gwyneth, will be my problem if I decide to make the purchase. Take me to her…now." Kane rose to his feet and headed to the door with Gwyn struggling to keep up.

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The garage-sized room was warm and well lit. Cell-like cages lined the walls. Each cage held a woman in varying degrees of pitiful. There was activity outside on the far side of the building. A large semi was docking and a number of burly men were coordinating some sort of project at the door. In the far corner, away from the activity was a single cage containing a fully clothed albeit disheveled woman.

Kane took in the entire scene in one glance. His attention was drawn to the isolated cage by Gwyn's explanation. "That's her, right over there. The rest of the merchandise is being shipped out later tonight. Her name is Stephanie Plum. She enrolled here under the idiotic name of Stefana Plume. I don't know what…."

Kane cut off Gwyn's speech in mid-sentence. "I really don't care what her name is. If she is adequate, I will name her myself…and she will learn to respond to it. I will require a private room. Have her stripped, bathed and hanging spread for evaluation. I want her blindfolded, but not gagged. Is there someplace where we can have a bite to eat while I am waiting?"

The coldness of his demands and the flippant request for a 'bite to eat' sent chills down Gwyn's spine. My god! This man is evil walking the earth. What kind of prior business did he have with the organization? I think I am standing next to a killer. Salvatore was right…I don't want to make this man angry. He can't leave quickly enough and hopefully he'll take Plum with him. I'm actually starting to feel sorry for the girl. I'm afraid that death will come agonizingly slow to her. Sexual curiosity CAN kill you, my dear.

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Steph had been watching the flurry of activity all afternoon. One by one the other women had been taken away only to be returned to their cages physically transformed. Each had obviously had a bath and had been given new hair styles. NeeNee was now a ginger and was striking in a shape-hugging jade dress and high heels. One raven-haired girl now sported a pixie cut and the shortest shorts Steph had ever seen. Her high heels made her legs look like they went on forever. Steph was embarrassed to find she was suddenly jealous of the astounding make-overs the others had received. God! I'm a self-centered bitch. I know where these women are heading and all I can think of is how good they look. If I'm not going with them, I'm doomed.

These thoughts had no sooner left her mind when one of the resident 'keepers' unlocked her cage door. She felt all her blood pool in her feet and her heart stopped. "Well, Miss Special Handling, seems you may have found a home. Let's get you ready for the adoption process, shall we?" She tried to vocalize any form of protest, but as soon as her mouth was open her handler squeezed her cheeks together with his massive hand. "You'll fare much better if you keep that pretty little mouth of yours shut, darlin'. You won't fetch much with a ball gag covering those pretty lips."

She was taken to a large shower room, where well-trained women washed her…all over. She then sat naked in a chair while her hair, freshly shampooed was given a 'freshening up'. Wrapped in a terrycloth robe, Steph was delivered back to her handler. "You clean up nice" was his only comment as he hustled her out of the barn and into one of the smaller adjacent buildings.

The building had two doors. She was led into the door on the right. If she was scared before, now she was totally petrified. The room consisted of a bed, a single wooden chair and leather cuffs attached to chains that hung threateningly from the ceiling. There were shorter chains with cuffs bolted to the floor. Tears began streaming from her eyes as she began to beg her captor. "Please! Please! No! Please!" In minutes she found herself naked,hanging by her arms from the ceiling with her legs chained apart. A blindfold was placed tightly around her eyes and she was left alone in deadly silence, to await her fate.

An unknown amount of time went by. It could have been minutes. It felt like hours…a lifetime. She spent the time in silent prayer and contrition. There would be no knight in shining armor to save her this time. Her life as she knew it would be changed for the worse or possibly ended soon enough.

She heard the door open and quickly close. The rustling of clothing let her know someone was in the room, but had yet to speak. "Who's there? Is someone there? Please! There's been a terrible mistake. Please." She felt a hand on her shoulder and she cringed in anticipation.

"Sssh." The voice sounded male and commanding. His hands began to systematically roam over her entire body. Pinching here, prodding there in the manner one would use to evaluate a horse at an auction. His touch was gentle, but firm and she wasn't sure if the shivering of her body was the result of nerves, the cold or his professional touch.

Then he leaned into her, placing his lips close to her ears and whispered softly…

"Do you trust me?"