Miss Yumi Inoue "You wanted to see me, Professor?" The young girl had knocked so shyly at the door that it was almost inaudible. Professor Caitlin Grey had heard it, but it suited her to pretend she had not. The look on the face of Miss Yumi Inoue as she opened the door, as if expecting some horrible monster to be waiting for her the other side, was truly priceless. She pretended to look surprised. "I'm sorry, Miss Inoue," she said, pronouncing the girl's surname immaculately. Many of her fellow faculty members had gotten it wrong over the few months the young Japanese girl had been here. "I quite lost track of time." "I can come back later," she said, as if she were to blame. The Professor bit back the urge to chuckle. "I have a lecture at two o'clock, but before then, or..." "No, it's quite all right. My fault, really. Please, sit down." The girl did as she was asked, setting her bag down delicately beside her, and then she simply waited there, her hands on her lap, a look of mute terror on her delicate face. There were many in the faculty who thought that Caitlin Grey was too young at twenty-nine to be a Professor of Chemistry. Those that didn't think she was too young thought she was definitely too good-looking. Blond, shoulder-length hair. Bright blue eyes. Full, sensuous lips in a pretty face. A wonderful figure full of curves in all the right places. And did she ever know just how sexy she was. Not that she dressed like a slut, or anything, but her clothing always accented her femininity. She never wore trousers, always skirts, and she wore just enough make-up and jewellery. Even in a lab she looked hot. No one however could deny that she knew her subject well. And no one could deny that she was a good Personal Tutor to her students, even if some of the male students did invent problems just to visit her often. She cared for her students, all of them, and she knew that, every year, there were some like Yumi Inoue. Oh, a lot of people came to university confident and brash. They were looking forward to lots of cheap alcohol and lots of nameless sex, and maybe graduating with a third, if they were lucky and did all their revision the night before the exam. Then there were those who came to learn, academically minded, hard working, pursuing their own private interests, but still mixing work and social life, slightly. And there were a few, like Miss Yumi Inoue, who managed neither. They made no friends, struggled in their work with the support networks in place. They had to do their group work alone, never went out, stayed in their rooms, or in cheap bedsits. They didn't want to be here, or didn't want to do the course they were doing. Many of them dropped out after the first year, or persevered bravely only to fail, and go home in shame. Added to the burdens of being in a foreign country as well... It wasn't that they were stupid - Miss Inoue in particular spoke flawless English - it was that they were just lost. Caitlin felt it was her duty to help them find their path, find a purpose that brought happiness and joy. If that purpose took them away from their course and into the real world, well, that was better than failing, right? She had recognised Yumi as being one of those students from their very first meeting. Of all her personal tutees this year, Yumi was the odd one out, the one who didn't fit into any other groups, who hadn't joined any Societies. The two months since then had only confirmed Caitlin's initial belief, and meant it was time to have this meeting. "You know it's my duty as your Personal Tutor to help you out in any way I can, right, Miss Inoue?" "Yes, Professor," she squeaked, an adorable deer-caught-in-the-headlights look in her wide, brown eyes. "And not just in an academic way. In any way. If, say, you had a problem with your social life, or with your peers, or anything like that." "Yes, Professor." "Is there anything you want to tell me about?" She just sat there, frozen. It was the same expression she had whenever someone asked her a question in a seminar. It wasn't that she didn't know the answer, it was that she was so afraid of saying something and being thought wrong or stupid. "Have you made many friends since coming here?" "No, Professor." "Do you have a boyfriend?" "No, Professor." She blushed at that. "I'm just here to help you, Miss Inoue. Or may I call you Yumi?" She stammered out something. Caitlin leant forward on her desk, slowly shaking a wisp of her blond hair from her deep blue eyes, fixing a long look at the girl. God, she was beautiful. A classically submissive looking Japanese girl. Deep, innocent brown eyes. Long, vibrant, light brown hair. A slender, almost girlish frame. Coltish legs. Dressed plainly in a white jumper and long, dull skirt. In years gone by, she would have been trained as a geisha from a young age, and by now, besotted samurai would be coming to her, madly in love. As it was, she had been raised in the wrong time, and thrust into roles she was patently unsuited for. Caitlin saw it as her duty to help, in whatever way she could. She was still there, sitting as still as if she were carved from marble. The Professor suddenly glanced at the clock, seemingly by chance. "Oh, no," she muttered. "I'm sorry. I really am. There's a meeting to go to. It was meant to be later, but it was moved this morning and I forgot to tell you. I'm sorry to drag you up here for this." "No, Professor," she squeaked. "That's all right." "I do want to finish this meeting. I'm busy until half five... Can you come back then?" "Yes, Professor," she said, after a long pause. "You don't have anything planned?" Caitlin asked, knowing full well she didn't. "No, Professor." "Good. This building closes at quarter past five, but I'll be staying late. The door will be open." "Yes, Professor." Miss Inoue left then. Caitlin watched her leave and for long minutes after the door had closed behind her, the sexy Professor could still see her sitting there. Caitlin had to close her knees tightly to stem off the arousal rising beneath her skirt. ---------- She came back, of course, precisely as Caitlin knew she would. She could not dare defy a request for a lecturer, least of all her personal tutor. Caitlin made her wait outside her office, pretending to work. In fact, she was trying to calm herself as much as she could, trying to quell the rising warmth in her groin, and the fantasies filling her mind. At a quarter to six, she finally decided she had had enough. Pulling on her long coat, she made to leave, feigning complete surprise at seeing her outside. "Oh, Yumi," she sighed. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I just lost track of time, and got caught in my research paper, and... Have you been waiting long?" "No, Professor." Caitlin knew very well she had been. She had gotten here just after five, terrified of being late, no doubt. No one else remained in the building by now. It was a small office, set some way off from the main Science Department. Mainly it was for research students, some small lecture theatres and a few offices. Caitlin was due an office in the main building when some renovations were done, but she did not complain. Being so out of the way just made things all the easier. "I was just about to go home... The porters and cleaners don't like us staying too late. It's quite inconvenient..." "I can come back on Monday, Professor..." "No, I tell you what. Come home with me. I'll make you something to eat. We can talk. I'll drive you back afterwards. You live at Parson Hall, right?" And no one on her floor would even notice she wouldn't be coming back. That same, startled look again. "No... I couldn't dare... I wouldn't want to..." "Nonsense. Come on, Yumi. I really insist." That was that, of course. She dare not say no. She was silent as Caitlin led her to the car, and just as silent on the ride back. Caitlin lived on the outskirts of town, a good half an hour drive away in good traffic. Caitlin was very proud of her house, in a very nice suburb of the city, a house large enough for a family, and certainly not intended for a single woman just approaching thirty. The neighbours were slightly stand-offish, and that suited her fine as well. The less anyone paid attention to her business, the better. She led Yumi into the living room, with a small amount of small talk. Her mind was beginning to wander, and just being so close to Yumi was enough to send her dreaming. This was always the part that most captivated her: being so near to it, the anticipation of what was to come... Yumi was looking around, eyes darting here and there, looking around at her living room. Caitlin discarded her coat casually. "What do you want to drink? Tea? Coffee?" "Whatever you are having, Professor," she said quetly, subdued. Caitlin smiled, heading into the kitchen to prepare. "Look around," she called back. "Make yourself at home." She set the kettle to boil, and picked two identical cups. Yumi would not be likely to drink unless she was drinking herself, and she felt like a good cup of coffee. Something to keep her awake for a while, perk her mind up. Of course, young Miss Inoue's coffee would contain a little more than caffeine. One of the advantages to being a Professor of Chemistry was being able to get hold of various chemicals not obtainable by the general public. Mix a little bit here and there... Caitlin really did see this as helping them. She always had. Some people just were not cut out to be students. This ridiculous preconception that everyone should have a chance to go to university, regardless of how they were suited to it... It was her duty as their personal tutor, to help them along a path more suited to their skills. Yumi was not the first, not by a long way. They were mostly the same, shy, uncommunicative, painfully homesick. Boys as well as girls. She had found a new career path for them, used some of her contacts to help them along a new road, one they were better sited for. Mind you, she admitted, as she watched the kettle boil, she did enjoy it. The girls more than the boys, yes. There was something so wonderful in their eyes when they finally accepted their new role. It took a fair bit of teaching for them to accept it, but when they did, that silent 'thank you' meant more to her than a whole class full of firsts. Yumi would be special. She had it in her to be a first class geisha. Not some cheap whore or lap dancer or gigolo like the others. Caitlin would talk to her contacts, see if she could find something worthy of the girl. She was still smiling as she prepared the coffee, mixing the drug into Yumi's. Odourless, tasteless, dissolving instantly, totally effective in a matter of minutes. Yumi was sitting totally still when Caitlin returned, exactly as she had been before. She had not even removed her coat. Caitlin placed the mug in front of her. "What do you think of the place?" she asked warmly, setting down her own mug, opposite the girl. "You have many nice things," Yumi answered, tonelessly. "Many pictures." "You mean these." Caitlin turned around, gesturing at the pictures on the wall behind her. Japanese prints. Quite old, and beautifully done. "I've been to Japan many times. It's a lovely country. Where are you from again?" "Osaka," came a quiet reply. Caitlin wondered how much Yumi would like her other pictures. They were not as old, perhaps, but every bit as pretty. "I've been there. A beautiful city. Drink up." To encourage her, Caitlin picked up her own cup and began to sip. Very milky, as she always made it. The other members of the faculty made jokes about it, asking if she wanted any coffee with her milk. It was just the way she drank it. Besides, she had been able to make Yumi's the same, and that only hid the drug more. Yumi smiled shyly and began to drink her own. Effective in mere minutes. Caitlin felt goosebumps rise on her arm. She finished her own coffee in a quick gulp, and set the mug down a little hard. "So," she said, panting slightly. "How have you been coping here?" It would start with a slight dizziness, and then a blurring of her vision, and then, no more than ten or fifteen seconds later, she would lapse into complete unconsciousness. She would only be out for an hour or two, but that would be enough. Yumi continued sipping at her drink. She had had enough. The first mouthful was plenty. "I have been having trouble, to start with, Professor. It is as if... I do not feel there is any here who understands me." "I understand. That's not uncommon, you know." "I mean no disrespect, but I am not sure if this is what I truly want to do." "There's nothing wrong with that. It's important to recognise that now, rather than slog on through a course you're not enjoying." Caitlin giggled slightly, girlishly. "I won't be offended if you think another path is more suitable for you. Nor will the rest of the faculty." "That is good to hear." Yumi finished off her drink, and set the cup down. "I want to thank you, Professor Grey. I have been feeling lost for some time, but I think you will be able to help me understand things here better." "That's good," Caitlin said. "That's..." She suddenly swooned slightly, dots dancing in front of her eyes. Yumi just sat there, a shy little smile on her delicate face. But... She swapped the... But... Caitlin slumped, and the flawless drug took its effect on her. ---------- She woke up bound, very securely. Lying face down on the floor, hogtied, tight ropes around her ankles and wrists, pulled tightly together, her body arched painfully backwards. A thick ball gag filled her mouth, distending her jaw slightly. That was not the first thing Professor Caitlin Grey was aware of when she came around. The first thing she noticed was the other effect of the drug she had prepared. She wanted to scream from sheer, unsated desire. Her heart was racing, her blood boiling, cold sweat trickling slowly down her face, her hair matted and stuck to her. Her pussy was dripping, thick and puffy, yearning to be touched. A single caress would likely bring her to screaming orgasm, but that was a single caress that would not come, because the only thing she was wearing that could be described as a garment, was the chastity belt locked tight around her groin. Caitlin knew exactly where she was, and a sinking feeling of sheer terror settled into her, briefly rising even above the screaming lust. Her dungeon. Her special room. This room had cost her a fortune. Everything had to be bought specially, from only the best bondage shops. The chains, the Cross in the corner, the whips and crops, the tight bondage rope that even now held her, and the chastity belt. She had had plenty of people here. Her students, the lost and the confused and the lonely. She had shown them things here. She had helped more people in this room than she ever had in her office. They protested at first, they screamed and the cried and they begged to be let free, but in the end, all of them accepted what she told them. They all went to their new lives grateful for her help. And now she was here. She didn't need any help. She knew her rightful place in life. She didn't need to be here. Where had Yumi gone? What if she had called the police? Technically what Caitlin had done was criminal. Some of the people she contacted were certainly criminals. She was sure she would never be sentenced for anything - no jury would convict her of trying to help people - but the story would destroy her reputation. Some people just would not understand. She struggled frantically in her bonds, trying to tear herself free. It was no good, of course. The bondage rope was the best available. It would not tear or fray, and even cutting it was difficult. Her only hope was some slackness in the knots, but there was none at all. She had been very expertly tied. Still, she kept struggling, hoping against hope that she was wrong and she would be able to escape. The effort exhausted her within moments, but she kept trying. The act of fighting did something to stay off the need burning within her... No, she had to think... There was some way out of this... There had to be... Oh, no! No! No! She had been aroused even before this. Yumi was very pretty. Caitlin had not come into this room all week, not watched any of her videos, not pleasured herself. She was building herself up for the capture and the first night. The delay of pleasure was always something special, the anticipation heightening it more... She had not expected this. "Professor Grey," called Yumi's voice, still meek and submissive from outside the open door of the dungeon. Caitlin would not have been able to hear her if the door was closed. This room was completely soundproof. The dungeon was a converted attic room. There were no windows, and the walls were completely insulated. There was no way any noise could escape. Some of her previous students had screamed their lungs out up here, and no one outside had so much as heard a thing. "I am sorry, Professor. I will be with you soon." Caitlin tried to say something back, but of course, her gag muffled her speech. It was a fine gag, one of the best on the market. Painful and aesthetic as well as practical. There was no way she would be able to make so much as a squeak through it. Still, she kept struggling, rolling around on the floor, thrashing and banging and desperate to tear herself free. If she could get an arm free before Yumi returned, then that would be something. She would be able to fight her way free then, trick the girl, do something... Oh, God... Her cunt was burning... The door closed, and clicked shut, and the naked, hogtied professor looked up. "You look very pretty like that, Professor Grey," Yumi said, as quietly as if she were complimenting her on a new haircut. Yumi looked very pretty herself. In fact, she looked more than pretty. She looked absolutely gorgeous. Caitlin had numerous costumes downstairs. Some she wore herself, others she made her special students wear. Yumi was dressed in a schoolgirl's uniform. Caitlin had always liked that outfit, but she had to admit that Yumi looked better in it than she ever had. A short, grey, pleated skirt showed off her long legs. It was scandalously short; if Yumi sat down, it would not cover her bottom. The white socks were pulled up to just below her knee and the shoes were clearly little girl's shoes, child-like and petite. Her blouse was white and formal, but a little more... transparent than was normal. The lines of her simple white cotton bra could be clearly seen through the thin fabric. Caitlin was forced to re-evaluate her earlier opinion of Yumi's frame. Her breasts were clearly visible in this outfit, and they were larger than she had thought based on the shapeless and grey clothing Yumi usually wore. Not the size of Caitlin's own C-cup, but still pleasantly sized and very shapely. The Japanese girl had tied her long hair into two pigtails, each one tied with a pretty pink bow. Her face was a picture of innocence and girlishness, but her body was wonderful. Caitlin moaned into her gag painfully. "How do you think I look, Professor?" she giggled, girlishly. She did an elaborate twirl, her skirt flashing up, high around her thighs. "You had many nice clothes there, but this was my favourite." Caitlin felt as though she would pass out. Furiously, trying to bring some end to the burning in her groin, she tried to rub herself against the padded floor. That did not help, as she knew it would not. "You look so nice like that, Professor," the girl said, giggling again. She sat down cross-legged directly before Caitlin's bound form. From her position, the bound professor could clearly see that Yumi wasn't wearing any panties at all. "I want to thank you," Yumi said, simply. "I have not been happy here, and you must have known that. It was strange coming to a foreign country, away from my friends. I was not sure what I wanted to do, and the course was very hard. I was very homesick as well. "I know you wanted to help me, but I did not think you could. I was wrong. You have helped me. A great deal. "I used to play with my friends back home, in Osaka. I used to tie them up, and pretend to hurt them. We read these wonderful books, and I would pretend to be an evil witch or a vampire, and... oh, we used to have such fun. I miss my friends." She paused. "You didn't have anything that looked like what I used to wear. Witch clothes. But this is almost as good. "And to think, we have all weekend to play here, just like I used to, back home." She reached out, and brushed a lock of Caitlin's hair back from her face. The professor shuddered at even that simple caress. "I have been having a look at your computer, Professor. I am sorry for the intrusion, but I knew you would not mind. I was hoping to find a diary or something, perhaps some stories, so that I would know what sort of things you liked. A lot of files were protected, and need passwords. Would you tell me what those passwords are?" No! Those files related to her payments for her other students. They were letters and e-mails from her contacts, pictures and images of her students. There was enough there to have her arrested. Someone might look at them and assume she was some kind of rapist. "Please, Professor Grey," Yumi begged, her big eyes seeming even bigger. She ran her fingers down the quivering academic's face, brushing away tears and beads of sweat. "Please..." Slowly, delicately, each movement as precise as if done by an exquisitely trained geisha, Yumi removed the ball gag, and let it drop to the floor. Caitlin exhaled sharply, and sucked in a great gasp of air. "Yumi!" she cried. "Please, Yumi, let me go. Please..." There were things she wanted to say, but her mind just did not seem able to work. She needed to cum so badly... It was taking all her concentration to speak at all. "Uh uh," Yumi said, shaking her head, causing her pig tails to shake around her. "Call me 'Miss Inoue'. I liked that. It sounded nice. Sexy." "Please, Miss Inoue. Let me go..." "Maybe," she said, impishly. "I might think about it. The password, Professor?" "Please..." Caitlin was crying quite openly. Gently, tenderly, Yumi lifted her up, cradling the sobbing academic in her arms. With her free hand, she began to brush Caitlin's breasts, rubbing her fingertips over hard, taut nipples. "You are very pretty, Professor." "Please..." "The password?" "Please..." Miss Inoue squeezed one nipple, causing the professor to shudder violently. "Please..." Caitlin did not know what she was begging for. To be let free, or to be caressed into a screaming orgasm? "Please, Miss Inoue..." "The password?" Yumi could wait longer than she could, and both of them knew it. After more futile pleading, more sobbing, more writhing, and more gentle caressing, Caitlin gave way. "Star Lily," she sobbed. "One word. All lower case." "Good," Yumi crooned, kissing the side of her face. She then, as gently as she did everything else, lowered Caitlin back down and secured the ball gag back into her mouth. Caitlin was still crying and sobbing a few minutes later, when she noticed that the young girl had gone, once again leaving her alone in her own dungeon. ---------- She did not know how much time had passed before Miss Inoue returned. There was no clock in the dungeon, deliberately to induce in her guests the feelings of isolation that she was now suffering. (But it had worked against her as well - she had been very late to work one morning due to being distracted in here.) In all her wildest dreams, she had never imagined she would be a prisoner in her own dungeon. She cried for release. She cried to have this desire sated. She cried in fear. She just cried. When Miss Inoue finally did return, there was a fascinated expression on her face. Caitlin looked up, a pleading expression on her face. Please... please... she had to now... please... oh God... please... The Japanese girl sat down as she had before. "There were some very... interesting things on your computer, Professor Grey," she said. "Some nice pictures." Then she held something up, and Caitlin's heart sank. Her digital camera. How many pictures had she taken of her students, while they lay in positions like this, helpless to do anything to resist? Some of them had been for advertising purposes, but most had been for herself. A sign of all the people she had been able to help. Miss Inoue took pictures of her. Lots of them. Naked. Tied up. Sweating and begging to be fucked like some little whore. She deftly positioned the helpless professor. It was a fine camera. The best technology currently available. Caitlin upgraded her computer all the time. Other than her dungeon, it was what she spent the most money on. But it had been worth every penny. Or so she had thought. Miss Inoue left after that, and came back a little later, still with the camera. "You have a very nice house, Professor," she said, conversationally. "I like the video cameras you have. It took some time to get them to work. I fear I am not very technologically minded." She removed Caitlin's gag. The professor began to moan again, panting, acting like some worthless slut dying for release. She knew this would be recorded, that a video of her would soon be safely stored alongside all the others. How had her the others felt when they had been here, in this position? Had they realised that she was only trying to help them? That she had their best intentions at heart. "Please..." she sobbed. "You do look very pretty, Professor." Miss Inoue shifted her position slightly, so delicately. "You had some very... nice things on your computer." She stretched again. "Some were very... interesting." She stood up, and stretched, standing directly over the bound academic. "I seem to have forgotten my underwear," she said. She giggled. "Wasn't that naughty of me?" She crouched down, just a few feet above Caitlin's face. "I'll think about things later." She lifted up her skirt, and dropped down the rest of the way. Caitlin knew what she had to do. ---------- It had taken a very long time to lick Miss Inoue to an orgasm. She had kept squirming, and moving about, forcing Caitlin to keep adjusting her position. It was hard for her to breathe, trapped as she was. She had never done that to another woman before, although she had had it done to herself many times. Miss Inoue giggled a lot throughout, although the giggles became moans later. When it was done, Caitlin did not resist as she was moved around the dungeon. Her hands were released from the ropes but, rather than try to break free, she simply lay there, drained and exhausted and so sensitive. Her captor, now very serious, secured her to one of the posts at the dungeon. It was done very quickly and professionally and in no time at all, Caitlin was bound again, to a wide, support bearing pillar. Her hands were fixed to manacles dangling from the ceiling, her legs were pulled around the pole and tightly bound there. Very soon, her arms began to burn with the weight of her body, but that was just another painful sensation, nothing compared to the pain that still raged beneath the hard leather and metal chastity belt. "You did not do very well, Professor," Miss Inoue said. "My friends were much better. I am sure you will learn. Learn by doing, yes? That is what you taught us." Caitlin nodded weakly. Her gag had not been replaced, but she was too tired to talk, her throat too dry to make sounds. A drop of Miss Inoue's arousal juice clung to the side of her mouth. "I have been thinking," the girl said, sitting down, staring up at her helpless professor. "I think I will drop out of university. It does not suit me. That is what you were going to talk to me about, wasn't it? My practice marks have not been good. I do not understand the work. I do not enjoy it." She paused again. "This may sound funny, Professor Grey, but there was a job I always wanted to do. A silly thing. Like when young boys say they want to be yakuza, or young girls that they want to be princesses. Childish fancies. "I wanted to be a slaver. I wanted to train slaves, and sell them on, and train new ones. It was a silly dream. My father wanted me to be a banker, like he is. My mother wanted me to be a scientist, and that is why she sent me here to study. "I never thought I could be a slaver. I thought they were just found in books. But then I read the files on your computer. "You are a slaver, Professor Grey. You can help me become what I always wanted to be. I know that you wanted to help me. I saw it in your diary. It was very kind of you, but I do not need that kind of help. I do not want to be a prostitute or a lap dancer. But I do want to be a slaver. "You will help me, won't you?" Caitlin thought: she had no choice. Miss Inoue could call the police, tell them everything, destroy her reputation and her life. Caitlin thought: she could simply leave me here, keep me tied up and just never let me go. Caitlin thought: I need to cum! No! Oh, God, now! Caitlin could not think at all. Finally, weakly, she nodded. "Yes," she said, weakly. "Oh, good." She actually clapped her hands together. "Wonderful. Oh, thank you, thank you, Professor. These are my ideas. You have that secret bank account. You will need to give me access to it. My father is a banker. I know what forms to arrange. You'll sign them for me, won't you? "You need to introduce me to your contacts. I've found their names and phone numbers, but it will be so much better coming from you, don't you think? "I think I have some ideas for who to take. We'll have to be careful, of course. I mean, a few students go missing every so often, particularly in a big city like this. But we might have to look elsewhere. We don't need to take too many. Quality over quantity, yes? "This is so exciting! Thank you." "Please," Caitlin rasped. "Please..." "Oh, yes. Of course. How silly of me to forget." She stood up, and a very serious look crossed her face. "I'll have to teach you a few things as well. I'll be the senior partner in this, remember?" Caitlin nodded. Miss Inoue then unlocked and dropped the chastity belt. She set her mouth to Caitlin's pussy. She was much, much better at that than Caitlin was. The professor had no doubt she would have to become better, and very quickly. ---------- A year later... Caitlin knew something was wrong when she came home from work - her public work at the university, not the private one she and Miss Inoue carried on - and found Wolf sitting in her living room with her 'senior partner'. Wolf was not his real name, of course, but that as what they called him. He had links with powerful people. Most of her former students had been sent on to their new lives via him. "Professor," said Miss Inoue, excitedly. "Good to see you back. Mister Wolf and I have been talking about you." Obediently, automatically, Caitlin removed her coat, and fell to her knees, her head bowed. She could have tried to do something, she knew. There had been plenty of opportunities over the last year. But Miss Inoue had all the information. Enough to destroy her. Both of them knew that. What both of them also knew was that, in a very real way, she had already destroyed Caitlin. That first, long weekend had only been the start of it. Miss Inoue had proven to be very imaginative indeed. And also a very skilled businesswoman. They had taken four new slaves over the last year, all from different parts of the country, and all with absolutely no way of tracing the disappearances to the two of them. All four had been trained incredibly well, and sent on to Wolf afterwards. The last one was apparently now owned by an Arab oil sheik. Miss Inoue had a very good eye for a slave. She had very quickly learned everything Caitlin could teach her, and more. Meanwhile, Caitlin had sunk deeper and deeper into her own misery. She could no longer do either job properly. Her only thoughts, day and night, had become her own slavery to Miss Inoue. Just going to work each day had been a nightmare. She could not concentrate. She could not help her students. Se had already been disciplined once for her poor attitude to her job. She had known this was coming. "Mister Wolf has come with a job offer for me," said the girl. She still spoke like that sometimes, girlishly and with enthusiasm for everything. It must be nice for her to have a job she so enjoyed, and was so good at. Caitlin was glad she had been able to help her. "Russian Mafia boss I know," said Wolf. "Runs a few bars, a few brothels, a few videos. Big market for Western women there. He's offered your girl here an exclusive contract. Six women a year. Well trained. Half a million each." "Isn't that exciting? I've always wanted to do this, and... I owe it all to you, Professor Grey. I really mean that. Thank you for everything you've done for me." Caitlin began to cry. "And I've already got my first slave for him, as well. I know you haven't been happy, Professor. I hope you'll enjoy your new life. I just want to help you the way you've helped me." "Her?" asked Wolf. "I've spent a year training her. She'll be everything he wants." Wolf shrugged. "Always wondered what she'd look like nekkid." "You'll soon find out." She turned to the still-kneeling Caitlin. "Thank you, Professor. I really couldn't have done this without you." "No," Caitlin sobbed. "Thank you, Miss Inoue." That last 'thank you' from her students. That was what she lived for.
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