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 Chapter 1: Crassius and Toy

   Crassius Cornu inherited a lot of money.  He attended a fine university
and acquired a position with a financial institution.  There he invested
other people's money, making a profit whether they gained or lost.  And he
got bonuses in addition.  Like many financial professionals of the future,
he lived away from the city in a gated community and a protected estate.  A
limousine whisks him from his home to the train station, it is only a short
stroll from the train terminal to the office.  At the end of the day the
process is reversed.

   Like many well-heeled professionals, Crassius owns a gynoid.  (A gynoid
is a female android.) The gynoid is, of course, the most gorgeous of women,
albeit a robot.  The only limitation, and it is a severe one, is the
"umbilical cord" connecting the gynoid to a power supply, chemical sources,
pneumatic and hydraulic connections, and Internet.  The umbilical cord is
usually fashioned as a tether, either connecting a collar to an outlet or
an ankle cuff, giving the gynoid the appearance of being a slave girl. 
Crassius's gynoid, named Toy Euler, connected via an ankle cuff.  Of course
there was a portable back pack, providing some mobility for up to one-half
an hour.

   Crassius could care less about the technological details.  Toy did his
personal finances, taxes, prepared food, attended to his dental hygiene and
minor medical needs, and---most of all---serviced him admirably in bed. 
She had perfect skin, female pheromones, ideal lubricants, and she never
said "no." Each month her maintenance supplier would replenish the
chemicals and the liquid Nitrogen tank.  The gynoid required so much energy
that a trickle of liquid Nitrogen was required to cool her inner machinery.
She exhaled Nitrogen gas.  Toy had to "breathe to live," still another
touch of realism for the man of the future.

   Toy Euler did not come cheap.  Like so many gynoids, Toy had a history.
One might have to pay handsomely for a rich, variegated past.  She had been
a slave girl on line for some time before receiving a material, Real Life
body.  Of course, there were "new born" gynoids, without memory and hosting
programmed behavior, but Crassius was interested in a gynoid with a very
unusual past.  She had been a slave girl to scholars, poets, writers,
and---most curiously---an acquaintance of the celibate cenobite Faustus.

   "So, Toy," Crassius asked, "What was your first on line master like,
girl?

   "This girl's first Master was a Gorean warrior, Master," Toy answered,
always speaking in the third person.  "He opened a girl and put her in
diaphanous red silks.  She followed her Master, always on his left side and
two steps behind him.  She quickly learned all of the Gorean slave
positions and the beverage serves for the Gorean tavern."

   "And this was all on line?" Crassius queried.

   "Yes, Master," Toy responded.  "This was all done in interactive
three-dimensional chat.  A girl worked hard to overcome the `Uncanny
Valley' of three-dimensional animation."

   "Ah, yes, the `Uncanny Gap' where simulation is all but perfect,"
Crassius spoke to himself, reinforcing the phenomenon in his mind. 
Crassius was computer literate but left the banal details to others.  H
continued the line of inquiry.  "So you say you learned the slave
positions? Do demonstrate."

   "The first is the Nadu, Master," Toy explained as she gracefully
transitioned from standing to the kneeling position.  She began the
transition with a genuflection, keeping her back straight and eyes
carefully caged downwards.  She brought her second knee to the floor,
keeping perfect balance by shifting the weight on her hips.  She had
patterned the transition after the 3D animation of one of the animation
masters.  From full kneeling she rocked back, letting her buttocks rest on
her heels.  She then spread her knees apart.  Her crotch was clearly
exposed, vulnerable, and unprotected.  As she transitioned, she slid her
hands down her flanks and positioned them, palms upwards, on her upper
legs. Eyes cast downward, she arched her back to position her breasts
forward for master's use, abuse, or pleasure.  Her eyes were steadfast on
Crassius's shoes.

   "Well done," Crassius commented.  "Do continue."

   "The second Gorean slave girl position is the Tower, Master," Toy
continued.  She transitioned continuously and flexuously from the Nadu,
bringing her knees together and rotating her wrists to place her palms
down, pressed against lean, lanky, lissome legs.  "The Nadu is the usual
slave position when Free Men are present.  When there are Free Women, the
Tower is the customary slave position," Toy explained.

   Toy then demonstrated the other Gorean slave positions: the Bara, the
Lesha, the Display, the Sula-Ki, and the She-Sleen, among others.  There
were many slave positions and these can be found on line in many diverse
and sundry sites.

   "Interesting," Crassius remarked, "and how did my girl leave this
warrior?"

   "She displeased her Master," Toy confessed.  "He was wanting a girl to
perform dances in the tavern.  Her programming was insufficient for the
creation of the prose, scripting, and animation needed.  So she was sold to
one of the Blue Cast, a Scribe."

   "Blue Caste?" Crassius asked.

   "Yes, Master," Toy replied.  "In Gor the Free Men belong to Castes.  Her
first Master was a warrior.  That is the Red Caste.  The Scribe Caste's
color is blue.  Should a girl continue about Caste colors?"

   "Dances?" Crassius queried.

   "Yes, Master," Toy answered.  "A girl may be commanded to dance.  In Gor
there are defined dances designed to arouse, entice, and entertain the Free
Men in the tavern."

   "Ah," Crassius interjected.  "So you left the Blue Scribe as well?  Or
did you displease him also?"

   "She was a Scribe's girl for a long time, Master," Toy explained.  "He
used a girl on a red oriental bed in each of the major sexual positions:
Missionary, Doggie, Fellatio, and Ride'em.  He kept a girl caged or
tethered.  He would take a girl out in public naked except for her slave
collar and leash.  But he fell from favor with the Gorean authorities and
forfeited his property.  He released a girl and she left Gor to BDSM."

   "This is all very interesting," Crassius stated.  "But I am curious
about the item in your inventory and bill of sale.  It mentions that you
are acquainted with that rogue physicist and mystic named Faustus.  Did he
also own you?"

   "No, Master!" Toy exclaimed.  "Master Faustus Mortal belongs to the
White Caste.  He is known as an Initiate in Gor and is a celibate cenobite,
vegetarian, and hermit.  He was once an acquaintance of Master Scribe."

   "I have been told that Faustus has some solution to the energy
conundrum. What do you know, what does a girl know of that?" Crassius
asked.

   "Very little, Master," Toy Euler explained.  "She understands little of
such things.  She only knows that Master Faustus was very angry at being
tossed out of his studies in graduate school and branded as a `crackpot
spammer.' He never was allowed to present some model he talks about.  The
man is poor, bitter, and aged."

   Crassius yawned.  "Enough for one day!  Do compile a dossier on Faustus
and include all chat logs." He commanded.

   "Master, those are copyright!" She replied.

   "Displease me and it's the bit bucket for you!" Crassius retorted.

   "Yes, Master," Toy responded.

   Chapter 2: Sabrina Enters

   Crassius was in the jocose when Bob Huddlestone called.  Bob had been
out of the financial business for some time.  He had been indicted and
convicted of money laundering.  He wasn't totally aware of the true
severity of the crime that he was committing, but punished he was anyway.
Now, removed from the circles of wealth and influence, he actually become a
servant of organized crime.  Crassius still kept him as a friend. 
Sometimes it pays to have a friend living in the shadows.

   "Scrambled phone call incoming, Master," Toy announced.  "There is a 95%
probability that it is `Bob' from your friends' list.  What is your
disposition?" Crassius cursed.  He loved the private time in the jocose. 
He screwed up his face in disgust and ordered Toy to patch the call
through. "Hello," he uttered.

   "Friend," Bob Huddlestone began.  Crassius knew this meant trouble.  "I
screwed up a carjacking and ended up with a barely legal babe.  I know that
you have a BDSM dungeon in your basement where we can secretly part her."

   "What is this `we' you are referring to?  A mouse in your pocket or
something French?" Crassius was clearly annoyed.  Yet he sensed a dire
situation and did, in fact, have a role-playing dungeon.  Crassius would
have Toy role play the submissive captive from time to time.  "Hang up now
and throw away the cell phone.  For sure you are being tracked."

   "Right, Boss," Bob responded, "We'll be there in fifteen minutes.  Have
the garage open."

   "Get some clothes on and the back pack, Toy," Crassius barked a command.
"We are about to acquire a human houseguest.  Do not mention my name around
her.  It looks like an abduction."

   "Yes, Master," Toy replied.  "Shall I dry Master first and lay out His
clothes?"

   "No time!" he shouted.  "Get on blue jeans, T-shirt with white cotton
bra, tennis shoes and white socks and...  contact the gynoid company to
order a new skin.  After this incident the blonde beach babe will turn into
a small-breasted brunette with hairy arm pits.  Get dressed and to the
garage and have the door open for arrival."

   "Yes, Master," Toy Euler answered.  She hurried while he threw on casual
clothes.  This was one of those times that Crassius hated having to spell
out every detail to Toy.  Had he not carefully detailed her attire there is
no telling what default her programming might choose.  It could be anything
from a black strapless evening gown to the leathers of a Biker Babe(tm). 
The vanilla approach would make identification difficult, should the
captive ever report to authorities.

   Crassius reckoned that the teenage girl was likely to end up in a harem
if she was lucky or in white slavery otherwise.  This was just a transient
situation.  Still, with such matters, it was still wise to err on the side
of caution.

   Bob Huddlestone drove the black Mercedes Benz into the garage.  Toy
Euler and Crassius Cornu were waiting and quickly closed the garage door,
minimizing the lighting.

   "Why so dark?  She's blindfolded!" Bob stated.

   "Just being cautious," Crassius retorted, somewhat annoyed by Bob's
casual comment.  Crassius pulled the hood of his jogging suit over his head
and waited in a dark corner while Toy joined Bob at the trunk of the car.
Bob popped the trunk revealing a gorgeous blonde bound hand and foot,
blindfolded, and gagged.  He pulled the duct tape from her mouth and she
screamed and cursed.  He re-taped her dirty mouth shut and rudely removed
her from the trunk of the luxury car.

   Bob removed his leather belt and fastened it about the girl's neck.  Toy
untied her ankles and seized the belt with a jerk, leading her down a
narrow staircase connecting the garage to the basement.  Bob and Crassius
followed.  Bob handed Crassius her driver's license.  Sabrina Barlot was
the name.  Crassius assumed that she would be called "Sub." He made a
mental note to instruct Toy.  He would prefer to run Toy in the "mute
mode," but somehow it just didn't seem appropriate at the moment.

   Once inside the basement Toy drew Sabrina into a large cage.  She then
poked Sabrina's ass with her right forefinger.  A hypodermic syringe
penetrated jeans and panties, discharging a powerful tranquilizer into
Sabrina's right ass cheek.  Toy then sat about untying and undressing
Sabrina.  She tossed Bob his belt back, using uncanny logical reasoning for
a gynoid of her version.

   Once Sabrina was suitably caged and sedated, Crassius gave hand signals
to Toy to plug in and re-charge her back pack.  He motioned for her to
remain in the basement dungeon while he and Bob returned to the garage.

   "Why so paranoid?" Bob asked as they headed back to the black sedan.

   "She mustn't be able to identify my voice," Crassius whispered.  Bob
shook his head.  What a paranoid gesture.  But then Crassius was still
racking in million dollar year-end bonuses while risking retirement
accounts.  Bob was carjacking, breaking deadbeats' legs, and smuggling
contraband.

   "And this car?" Crassius asked.

   "It has no Low Jack.  It will be parts by sundown." Bob replied as he
got in the car and motored away.

   Chapter 3: Toy and Sabrina

   The concrete floor of the cage was hard and cold.  Sabrina drifted in
and out of consciousness, nauseated and confused by the powerful
tranquilizer.  In her delirium she imagined that she was being abducted by
aliens, being used in a medical experiment, and being gang raped.  She
finally was able to reconnect with reality.  She tried to vomit, but only
managed some filthy yellow bile.  Then she noticed the cage bars and the
gynoid outside looking at her.

   "What are you looking at?" Sabrina asked, now aware that she was naked.
She was about to ask where her clothes were, but noticed them neatly folded
and on the floor beside Toy.  Toy made no reply.  "Where am I and who are
you?" Sabrina demanded.

   "You are caged and are subject to the will of my Master," Toy
responded." Sabrina cursed and pushed back the delirium induced by the
injection.  She felt her sore right buttocks.

   "You have no right to keep me here!" Sabrina blasted.  She waited
expecting a response from Toy.  Not hearing any response, Sabrina cursed:
"Listen you goddamned cunt.  I want out of here and I want out right now!
Can you understand me you stupid twat?  When I get to daddy you will have
hell to pay." Toy didn't respond.

   "I need to use the bathroom," Sabrina exclaimed.  "This cage has no
toilet.  And I'm cold.  The concrete floor is cold." Toy blinked,
moistening her synthetic eyes and said nothing.

   Annoyed and irritated, Sabrina shouted: "I have to piss goddamn it.  Let
me out of this cage." This time Toy did reply.

   "Sub will remain caged until Master permits," Toy instructed.

   "I guess I'll just have to hold my urine for a while then.  Tell Mister
Master to hurry." Sabrina demanded.  She knew that she might well have to
urinate on the stone floor of her cell.  But she was determined to hold her
urine as long as possible to preserve her dignity.  She sat with her arms
about her knees, exposing as little possible of her nipples and privates.
She still felt degraded and dirty.

   Toy turned to leave.  "Where are you going?" Sabrina asked.  She was now
part demanding and part pleading.

   Toy faced her and spoke: "Master has summonsed me now that Sub is
secured." She grabbed her back pack, unplugged her umbilical cord from the
wall outlet and went mobile.  It was just then that Sabrina realized that
Toy was a gynoid and not a human being.  She knew that pleading and begging
would probably be useless.  Toy departed leaving Sabrina alone in the cage.

   Sabrina looked around the dungeon.  She noticed a curb surrounding the
cage sloping to a drain hole.  Obviously this was a way to hose down or
otherwise sanitize the barred enclosure.  She went do the side of the cage
nearest the drain hole, put her legs between the bars, and tried to spew
her urine away from the cage and into the drain.  She had limited success
and noticed the strong odor and yellow hue of her piss.  She was mortified
that there was neither a toilet nor toilet paper.  What would she do when
she had to take a "number two?" Would she be caged when she experienced her
period, which was due in two days.  Her breasts were already feeling full
and tender.

   Seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours.  Sabrina's eyes were
becoming accustomed to the dim light of the dungeon.  Now she was annoyed
by a burning thirst and the emptiness of hunger.  When would the gynoid
return, she wondered?  Then Sabrina realized that she did not know the
gynoid's name.  She also realized the total hopelessness of her situation.
Escape from this professionally constructed dungeon would be no simple
matter.  It would take more of a "tour de grace" than a "tour de force."
   Part 1, Chapters 1,2,3 20 Mar 2010 Taunus Trumbo