The dark-haired latex-clad woman entered the main building of PerfectServant.Inc, helpless naked male slave crawling behind her. His bruised ass cheeks told a thousand stories of a spanking that had gone for far too long. Neither the security guard by the door or the employees cruising the hallway said anything but they all knew a storm was coming.
Her name was Vanessa Winthrop. Bohemian, billionaire, bitch. The legends about her being the most difficult woman to please in the world were inaccurate for she could make the whole solar system cry if she was up for it. Anyone working for her didn’t last long unless they acknowledged her superiority in all things. She was always right, especially when the opposite was true. She also hated to get her hands dirty taking care of menial affairs so seeing her out and about was another sign of ill-tidings. Silent alarms flared all the way up to the top levels.
Sitting behind her desk, laser nail corrector in hand, Patricia Daniels gulped. It was only her first month on the job. Friends of hers had survived years without having to deal with a disgruntled customer such was the company’s perfect track record. Why did it have to blow up on her face during her shift? “Not fair!” the mid-twenties fake blonde receptionist thought.
“Welcome to PerfectServant.Inc. How may I help you?” She asked.
Vanessa removed her oval glasses and looked straight into her eyes, pools of fury burning in each almond orb.
“Unless you’ve been living under a rock, I take it you know who I am.”
“Of course, Miss. Winthrop.” Patricia raised her seat a little higher. “Thank you for gracing us with your visit today.”
“You would do well not to thank me until you hear what I have to say. I wish to file a formal complaint against your company for false advertising.”
“Oh? Forgive me, but that’s... that’s surely a first. Please, what seems to be the problem?”
“He is.” She kicked the slave’s balls. “Or rather, his programming. It’s defective and an outrage. Besides the complaint, I’ll also be seeking immediate reparation, obviously.”
“O-okay... could you please give me the slave’s serial number so I can run it through the system?”
“I don’t know what it is and I don’t care.” Vanessa frowned. “Look my file up. I’ve only purchased one slave through you anyway and it’s unlikely I’ll ever do it again.
“Of course. One moment, please.” Patricia looked down at her transparent touch screen keyboard and ran a search on the VIP channels. Vanessa’s name was right up top. “Ah, here it is. Slave number 05012020. It underwent Level 5 Conditioning for Pussy Worship, correct?”
“So you say, but clearly you botched things up. What I got is not what I paid for!”
“Something wrong with his performance, Miss. Winthrop?”
“Not something. Everything! Here, see for yourself.”
Vanessa opened her purse and laid down a couple of three-dimensional pictures on the desk. Furry nightmares and out of control tongues were waiting in each one.
“Oh, my God!” Patricia shuddered. “This is...”
“Appalling. Yes, I know. That’s what this idiot did to my cat, the neighbor’s cat and a stray he caught on the street yesterday while I got nothing! Now what are you going to do about it?”
“I need to call my superiors. If you don’t mind waiting a little longer...”
“That won’t be necessary, Patricia.” A powerful male voice retorted. “I’ll take it from here.”
“And you are...?” Vanessa queried as she gazed quizzically at the mid-fifties muscular man that had appeared out of nowhere. The 22nd century Hercules was a sight for anyone’s eyes, even those of a mindfucked thrall.
“Bob Lawson, Manager of the Programming Division, Miss Winthrop. A pleasure to meet you at last.”
“Save ‘your pleasure’ for someone who cares! What kind of nonsense did you pull? How is this shit possible?”
He glanced at the unbelievable images and immediately looked away. “We’re not sure at the moment. We’ll need to run a full diagnostic on the program as well as the slave’s psyche to look for the source of the... hmmm... glitch. In the meantime, I’m prepared to offer you a fully trained replacement unit, of course!”
“Fully trained, huh?” Vanessa tapped her foot. “Unacceptable! I wasn’t around to see the conditioning the first time and this is what I got. No, Mr. Lawson, if you really want to make it up to me, you’ll get me an unbroken subject and let me watch the process from start to finish.”
“I suppose it can be arranged, Miss Winthrop, but selecting a new candidate and taking care of all the preparations for his enslavement is bound to take longer. You’ll need to wait at least twenty-four hours or more.”
She wasn’t impressed. Nausea rushed to her lips as she sibilated: “Tell me, Mr. Lawson: do you believe in this firm and what it stands for?”
“With all my heart. PerfectServant.Inc is the best company for slave training in existence, Miss. Winthrop. A solitary mishap in no way undermines everything we’ve accomplished here.”
She raised an inquisitorial finger to his lips and shooshed him. “Then surely a believer such as yourself won’t mind sacrificing his thoughts to see a customer happy, right? Why should I have to wait for a new candidate when you’re right here, and ready for the taking?”
He was at a loss for words. Patricia chuckled.
“It’s settled then.” Vanessa concluded. “Lead the way, Mr. Lawson. Let’s see how effective your training really is...”