Not Available / Digital Item
Condition: USED (All books are in used condition)
Condition - Very Good The item shows wear from consistent use, but it remains in good condition and functions properly. Item may arrive with damaged packaging or be repackaged. It may be marked, have identifying markings on it, or have minor cosmetic damage. It may also be missing some parts/accessories or bundled items.
Conditioned to Serve 2: Billionaire's Slut
Rachel Cipriani is the brainwashed plaything of billionaire Hugh Creighton Elliston. In this self-contained ‘Conditioned to Serve’ piece, Rachel seduces a rising star in politics at her owner’s command.
[Warning: this 4600-word short story contains vivid depictions of brainwashing and sexual behavior from an unwitting victim’s perspective. She spreads, kneels, obeys and forgets.]
Excerpt: I padded down the ladder of the Unforgettable, wearing nothing but a glossy blue micro bikini, a tasteful silver choker and my ear piece. Hugh was sitting in the dining area, watching a ninety inch flat screen TV, a bottle of Cristal in his hand. It seemed like an odd choice for the evening news, but he could afford it. He glanced up at me and asked, “Finished sunning yourself, babe?†All he was wearing was a pair of loose fitting green shorts, and I appreciated that. Hugh spent plenty of time with a personal trainer, and it was nice to get a view of his washboard abs. I shook my head at him and said, “Got some lousy weather rolling in, Sir. Conrad told me to get below.†“Good man,†Hugh smiled at tapped the deck in front of him with his foot. I slid gracefully to a kneeling position at his feet, sideways so that I could easily look at either him or the television. Hugh Creighton Elliston was somewhere between the 680th and 690th richest man in the world, depending on how the market was doing on any given day. Besides the yacht we were riding in, his assets included a majority holding in an Alaskan oil company, concerns in several investment banks, private planes, fancy cars, several mansions… And, of course, me. I’m told I came with a sticker price of something like half a million dollars. I wanted to get a tattoo of the exact figure on my ass, but Hugh liked my skin unmarked, and he’d gone to great lengths to remove my ability to refuse him anything.
