The Contract

By Art Tole

Indentured servitude was used for centuries around the world to connect employers with a labor market. The contract was what kept it from being the same as the slavery that kept a person prisoner for life. This book deals with the modern day form of Indentured Servitude Contract where employers and employees have like minded interests. Jacob Hampton is drawn into this world when the women that he has used finally catch up to him, but it is his own greed and lust that keep him a prisoner.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Art Tole
• Release date: Sep 19, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370998432

Book preview

Indentured servitude was common in the early British colonies in America. There was always a labor shortage, especially on the large plantations. Some people signed contracts voluntarily, to pay for their passage to the colonies. Some did it involuntarily; prisoners (mostly debtors) or in some cases kidnap victims. Some ship’s captains speculated in the human commodity and bought indentures, hoping for a profit when they sold the contract in the colonies. The ships carried between 500 to 700 indentured servants at one time. With only about two feet of space on a shelf to live on for months, the crossings were unsanitary and some died on the trip. When the ships docked in the new world, there were sometimes men who purchased the whole shipload (or parts of it) of servants and drove their human commodity through the countryside selling them in different towns along the way. The practice was common until late into the eighteenth century.

For the Masters, the use of indenture contracts at that time was necessary because they needed workers, so profit and greed was always a part of it. The price of the contract or the length of it was based almost entirely on the skills and usefulness of the employee. Some masters were cruel, if a servant ran away, he/she could be forcibly returned to them and have penalties added to their term of service. The use of black slaves, and the lower cost of transportation from Europe to the United States, made the indentured servant contract less attractive. In 1670 there were only about 500 ships traveling to the new world from Europe, but by 1720 only fifty years later it was over 1500 ships. However, indenture contracts are still in use today. Originally, based on the need for labor and the greed of the masters, today the desire to own a contract comes from the master’s emotional and sexual need to dominate, as well as the usefulness of the skills and education of the servant. The incentive for the slave is his or her own emotional or sexual desires, and as always, greed. Today, we live in a society when a secretary is offended if his/her employer asks him/her to bring them a cup of coffee. Who can blame the rich and powerful for wanting a very compliant employee?

His dream faded slowly as he became aware of his surroundings. He tried to stretch and felt the resistance of the leg and arm braces. For the thousandth time he cursed and tried to remember how he had gotten here and followed the thought quickly with the twin thought of why in the hell he was here. The artificial light in the room slowly reached the usual level of intensity and he tried to stand up. He was dressed in some kind of a dog costume, but it was more than just a costume; there was internal structure that held him in a dog like posture. The head covering locked a muzzle and two black pointed ears in place while leaving his hair exposed. A flat, spring like, spine followed his own spine, and ran from the back of his head to his tailbone, acting as a support that took the weight off his neck as he tried to hold his head up. The two-foot long tail had something to do with that counter-balance system because when he lowered his head, the tail attached to the spine covering drooped also. The flat spring like spine connected to a wide flexible metal belt that wrapped tightly around his waist with the ends secured by a red heart shaped padlock over his belly button. It dangled beneath him as he learned to walk on his artificial limbs. His arm coverings started above the elbows and ended in ingenious paws that extended beyond his hands and added another ten inches to his arm (leg?) length. The hard shell around his arms restricted his elbows and wrists to limited movements, but allowed him to operate the paw at the end of the extension. There were no claws, but the paws had a non-slip covering on the bottom so he had no trouble standing on his dog legs. The arm braces gave him a more dog like posture because it leveled his back, and overall the costume made it possible for him to move in a dog like fashion.

His crotch itched after three days of not washing; he tried again to scratch it but couldn’t reach it. After a few days of not washing, he wanted to scratch a lot of places that he couldn’t reach. His cock and balls were still locked in the bronze shell that Maggie had put on him. Maggie, that crazy Bitch; there was nothing that related to sex that bothered her. She had cast his cock and balls into a silicone mold and then surprised him one day with the bronze shell. It was polished to a mirror finish and she playfully slipped him into it by sucking on the hole at the tip of the cock and then locking the ball covering into place with a padlock. Why did I let her do it? I know why, because by the time she was ready to do it I was so used to her doing things to me that I didn’t even question it. There was always something that she or Collette was doing that always led to sex and I started to look forward to it. So what is this about? He thought about how she had mounted him after she locked the bronze covering, his dick began to swell and he was soon hard; not that it did him any good. The first time that she slipped him inside her, he was surprised to discover that he could not come; there was no sensation. He worked hard to bring her to a climax and then she immediately pushed him away; teasing him about being her slave. It slowly dawned on him that she was not kidding and he could not remove the shell without doing some serious damage to his balls. She has to be behind this, but how, and why? He wished that he was back in his dream, but hunger urged him to move.

This was the beginning of his fourth day here, if the light and dark cycle represented a day. No one had come into the bare concrete room since he had arrived, at least no one that he could see, someone came into the room at night to clean his litter box and leave food and water for him. Someone had to be watching him, but talking did no good, all that came out of his mouth was a very dog like whine. The muzzle was shaped like a German Sheppard’s, and designed to allow him to eat and drink. It was spring loaded to the closed position, and when he opened his jaws wide, the muzzle would open. When he first woke up in the room four days ago he had spent that day and most of the second learning how to move. There was a dog dish with water and another dish with something that looked like kibble in it. The drinking part was easy, he found a small tube with his tongue and immediately understood what it was for, but food was harder. By experimenting, he found that he could close his snout on some of the kibble and then by lifting his head and opening the jaws again it would fall into his mouth. The stuff tasted like steak.

The room that he was in was about fifteen feet by thirty feet. There was no visible door, but he was certain that one panel of the mirrors that lined one wall, must open. The only other thing in the room was a large litter box with a symbolic tree in the center of it. It was on the opposite end of the room from his bed. He had dated a woman who had a cat once so he immediately understood the absorbent filler that he saw in it. It took two days for the pressure to build up to the point where he couldn’t refuse to use it. It was either there or somewhere else in the room. He experimented with a couple of positions, but eventually decided that dogs knew what they were doing and lifted his leg to hit the tree and then squatted as far as his leg braces would allow and defecated on the kitty litter.

That was when he decided that someone was watching him and possibly filming him; this would probably show up on the internet. Maggie has to be behind this; but why?

Chapter One

I’ll call you when I get settled somewhere. Bryce gave her his most sincere look. It is dangerous for you if I stay here, and dangerous for me if you know where I am. He had used that line on several women and it always worked. Catherine would be trying to figure out how to help him and would quickly realize that all it took was a little money, of which she had plenty.

As if reading a script Catherine said, It isn’t that much money; let me pay off the debt for you.

This is so easy. I should have told her that I needed more than 50k. He slipped into his ‘I’m embarrassed’ posture and within minutes, he had separated her from some of her money. I will pay you back every penny, he said as if reading from a bad soap opera script. Hours later after a ‘thank you for the loan’, sex session, he got on a bus and left town.

It took Catherine two days to realize that he was not around and when it did, she got worried. Thank you for meeting me, I didn’t know who else to call. She had waited until her friend sat down and the waiter was gone before speaking.

You sounded so worried on the phone; what’s wrong? The friend seated opposite her was Maria Galvez, a detective on the Lansing Kansas police department. Whatever it is, it is nice to see you again and thank you for suggesting lunch. It is also nice to get out of the office." She broke eye contact as she arranged the napkin and tableware in front of her. She and Catherine were not really friends, just old acquaintances, their social and business circles did not overlap. Catherine was rich and gorgeous even if she was a few years past 39. Maria was the same age, gorgeous and not poor, but definitely a member of the working class. She had worked her way up to senior detective and soon would probably be the department chief. What they had in common was high school and college; mostly high school where they had both been popular and occasionally worked on school projects together. Maria had even visited the mansion a few times while they were in high school. What they shared now was mutual respect and memories of old times, good times, high school had been fun for both of them.

Catherine started to say something and then hesitated, again. She had rehearsed what she wanted to say in her head and still could not say the words.

Maria watched her struggling with it and said, Sometimes it is easier if you just start and then worry about how to say it later. I promise not to judge you; we have known each other for too long for either of us to be bashful around the other. Tell me why you called. I want to help if I can.

Catherine sighed and said, He’s gone and I am afraid something has happened to him. She went into detail about Bryce and the people that he said wanted to hurt him; repeating as much of his story as she could remember. The waiter brought their lunch and they talked as they ate.

Maria pushed her plate aside and took out a note pad, Give me his full name and a picture if you have one.

Bryce Jameson Sharpe, and…, she opened her phone looking through the photos on it, that’s strange. All of his pictures are gone. Catherine gave her a puzzled look.

Maria was certain that she knew what was going on and asked, Did you give him some money? She tried to make it a casual question, but the question itself conveyed all of the suspicion that she felt.

Catherine looked at her and decided to answer the question although she considered it a little personal, Yes, to pay off the people who are looking for him.

How much? she said trying to make it sound casual.

Catherine squirmed a little and said, Fifty thousand.

Maria blinked a couple of times before saying as calmly as possible, Is that going to cause you any…problems? She had always known that Catherine was wealthy, but she never knew how wealthy.

Catherine frowned as if she didn’t understand the question, Problems? Why would it cause a problem? Then she realized what she was asking, smiled shyly, and said, "No. Fifty thousand dollars is not a problem for me. I would have given him more than that. I just need to know that he is not really in trouble somewhere.

Maria kept a straight face as she thought about more than a years’ pay being a trivial amount of money. She closed her notebook and said, Let me do some checking on what I know so far. If you find a picture of him call me immediately, as she handed her a business card. She stood up and they exchanged a social hug before parting. Back in her office, she queried her computer for Bryce and got an immediate hit on a child born at the right time and who died almost immediately. There was nothing else after that. He is a con artist, but that does not mean someone is not out to get him. She opened her phone and called Catherine, Can I come over tonight and talk with you some more? I can’t find anything in the records on him, but together we might be able to figure out what happened to him.

Catherine sighed loud enough that Maria heard it on the phone, You think that he is a con artist don’t you? She didn’t wait for a reply, I considered that before I called you. I just want to make certain that he is not lying in a ditch somewhere because he was telling the truth about someone wanting to hurt him.

Maria breathed a sigh of relief and said, Then we should be able to find out who he is and answer your question. I will be there around seven if that is okay?

See you then.

Maria stood in front of the mansion, thinking about the last time she was there; Senior Prom committee. Now, almost thirty years later, she pressed the same doorbell. Catherine opened the door herself and greeted her warmly. After some small talk, Maria said, Did you find any pictures of him?

Catherine frowned and her face took on an expression of anger, No, and I am certain that he erased them from my phone and computer; he had my password.

Do you know what kind of car he was driving?

I always loaned him one of mine, so he will not be in the DMV data system. You haven’t heard of any recent accidents?

Maria shook her head and said, I have some people keeping their eyes open, but I don’t think he is a victim. She looked Catherine in the eye and said, You don’t think he is a victim either.

Catherine wrapped her arms around herself and turned away, leading her into the living room. I just need to be sure about what happened.

Do you have an internet social page?

Yes, don’t you?

Maria smiled and said, I only use it to keep track of my children. I told them that they couldn’t have an account unless I was ‘friended’ so that I could see what was on it. They are in college, but I pay the bills, so I get to keep track of them. If Bryce was at a party with you, someone else may have a picture posted to their social page.

Catherine rushed to her computer and within minutes was searching her friends’ pages. That’s him, she practically shouted.

Copy it and send it to me. She waited and then saw it appear on her phone. Got it. Okay, he is really beautiful. Falling for him would be totally understandable. He reminds me of Fred, you remember, in high school; all the girls melted whenever they were with him. She closed her phone and waited for Catherine to finish.

Catherine led her into the kitchen and said, Would you like a glass of wine?

As she nodded her head, Maria pulled out a stool from the counter and sat down. There was no reason to hurry and she intuited that Catherine needed to talk.

Catherine placed two glasses of wine on the counter and sat down. Whatever happened to Fred? You are right they look a lot alike, but I remember my one and only date with Fred; he was a complete waste of time.

Maria picked up her wine, At least you got a date; I never could get past the crowd of girls around him. I don’t feel bad though; he is fat, bald and married to a woman that he got pregnant when he was a freshman in college. I think that she figured out how to land him and he took the bait.

Catherine laughed and then her lips formed into a hard line as she said, I feel a little foolish.

Con men are good at what they do, or they wouldn’t do it. You are probably not his first victim. How did you meet him?

At a friend’s party; we talked for hours. We had so much in common. She took a large swallow of her wine and said, That was probably all an act. I could tell that he was younger than I am, but it didn’t seem to matter. I never asked him his age because I was afraid it would matter to him. He is probably around 35… well, okay closer to 30… maybe less, she mumbled. Then she grinned, He was great in bed. She looked at Maria and said, I know that you got married, a slight pause, and that you are a widow. She left it at that and waited for Maria to respond if she wanted too.

Maria nodded, We had ten years together before the cancer took him. I have two beautiful children. She picked up her wine glass and held it in one hand as she used her thumb to select a picture on her phone and slide it over to Catherine.

Catherine smiled appreciatively as she looked at it before taking a sip of wine, No one since then?

A few dates, but no, no one that could replace him in my life. Why didn’t you marry?

Catherine shrugged, My father always found something wrong with them. He was right; being rich attracted a lot of men with nothing but money on their mind. He passed away eight years ago and I have been dodging greedy men ever since. It wasn’t just my father though, I never met anyone that I wanted to be with longer than it took to have an orgasm. Sorry, I guess that was a little crude, but I really thought Bryce was different, he never mentioned money or marriage either for that matter. We had fun together; traveled a lot and laughed a lot. I thought that I had finally found someone to share my life. I even thought that it wasn’t too late to have children, or at least one child.

A few moments of silence followed while Catherine poured more wine. Maria finally said, We have come a long way since high school. Here’s to men who are good in bed, and she raised her glass to touch Catherine’s.

I’ll drink to that.

After an hour of ‘remember when’, Maria said, I had better get going. I will run this photo tomorrow and see if I can find out who he really is. I have to warn you though; you will probably never see your money again.

Catherine waved her hand in a dismissive manner and said, It was worth every penny just to reconnect with you; I wish that we had stayed connected. Catherine watched her get in her car and drive away. Their conversation had gotten her thinking about her last night with Bryce. He had done all of her favorite things, starting with tying her hands to the headboard of the bed. He had introduced her to this mild form of bondage last year, shortly after they had begun a sexual relationship. She had a collection of silk scarves that were just for sex play. Her orgasms were always faster and stronger when he did it that way; as if it freed her from responsibility and let her just enjoy what was happening. His tongue on her breasts brought her close to her first orgasm and his hand on her clitoris pushed her over the edge. She had screamed for that one and thought they were done, but he didn’t release her. Soon his tongue on her vagina brought her back to the edge and the hard cock that he rammed into her sent her into a sexual frenzy that lasted for what seemed like forever. He had collapsed beside her then and they dozed off. She didn’t know how long they slept, but she woke up when his mouth sucked on her breasts and his cock teased its’ way into her again. It was slower this time, but just as wonderful, and it was the last time.

It took a week, but Maria finally got a hit on the photo. She also got the attention of her boss. What are you working on Maria?

She had already rehearsed the story in case he asked, Let’s talk privately in your office. Her boss shrugged and led the way. After he closed the door she said, A con-man took Catherine Dubois for 50K. I finally got a hit on the photo that I sent out.

The mention of one of the wealthiest people in town made his eyebrows go up and he gave a nodding look of understanding. He said calmly, That’s great. After a slight pause he said, I don’t remember seeing the report on it.

Maria pushed her chair back and got ready to ask forgiveness. She hasn’t filed a report. A report creates a public record and she wants to avoid that if possible. So far what happened is not a crime.

He said nothing. With his arms crossed, he just looked at her, waiting for her to continue.

Maria saw the body language that said she had better have a good reason for keeping him in the dark about this and she said quickly, "Before he disappeared with her money he told her that there were some people looking for him that he owed money to. She was afraid that he was lying in a ditch somewhere. It didn’t take long to figure out that he is a con artist.

He uncrossed his arms and relaxed a little, Did he steal the money or did she give it to him?

Maria knew where this was going, She gave it to him. She raised her hand to stop him and continued, I know we don’t have a criminal case, but I wanted to find out who he really is; he is not Bryce Sharpe.

He pursed his lips and nodded his head. Okay, he said as he made a shooing motion with his hand and picked up a folder from his desk. Catherine Dubois’s position in the community could easily justify a couple of weeks of his senior detectives’ time off the books.

Maria liked that about him, he gave minimal direction as long as he was confident that things were moving in the right direction. This guy would probably never be found. He chose victims who would probably not file a complaint and kept his public records to a minimum. Her involvement was probably near its’ end.

Chapter Two

Edward Daniels stepped off the bus in the L.A. terminal. The layover stop in Las Vegas had been to get a new set of identification documents. For five thousand dollars, Bryce became Edward. This time the guy had even set up a Face Book page, complete with some poor photos of him at imaginary events. His Nevada drivers’ license had a picture that was about as bad as it could be and still resemble him. It would never stand up to a police inspection, but for the average use, it was adequate. His real name was Jacob Hampton, but it had been years since he used it. He stayed away from his home state of Virginia in case he needed to go back and resume his life there.

A short time later, he was sipping a beer along the boardwalk in Venice Beach and thinking, women are so stupid. Not that I mind, I have made a fortune off them. He had invested his money overseas and kept everything hidden in overseas banks that were free of U.S. banking laws and oversight. By using women for his immediate needs, he didn’t need a lot of money. Occasionally he spent heavily to get a woman’s attention, but he always got it back and a lot more. He didn’t need to con women any more, but he wanted to; he couldn’t help himself. He enjoyed it. They were so stupid. He gave them a good time and for some of them, the best sex they have ever had. Leaving them was a matter of being bored with what they wanted; he had needs also and so far, none of them had held his interest for more than a year. He always got bored with them and began to resent the time he had to spend with them. The dumb Bitches have no imagination, they think that all they have to do is spread their legs and someone will fuck them, he thought. Still, he always felt that he left them better off than they were before he met them; even if they had just a little less money than they had to start with. He never took so much that it would hurt them; only what they could spare. Catherine Dubois had been an exception to the rule. She was inexperienced but creative and willing to try new things; it wasn’t work with her. She never took the initiative though. I stayed too long and I should have taken her for more than 50K. He took a long pull on his beer and forced her out of his mind.

Now he was sitting in a tourist area indulging in his favorite past time; watching people. He had always been able to ‘read’ people, especially women. He watched two scantily clad girls walk by and immediately placed them in the just under 18 category. They were testing their ‘wow’ power by parading almost naked through the tourist souvenir area. Everyone looked, but only the teenage boys gave the girls any overt attention, which the girls loved and pretended to ignore. After an hour of watching people, he left to take a nap; it was time to get serious about finding another woman that needed his help; someone whose life he could enrich. Sunset was way too early to start looking; rich and mature women would not be out for hours.

Around eleven, he bribed his way into the trendy nightclub and took up a watch position where he could see who came into the club. A cluster of beautiful women made an entrance and he evaluated each one before dismissing all of them as too poor, beautiful, but poor. It went that way all evening. The club’s clientele were not even close to wealthy, and he was pretty sure that most of them shopped at K-Mart.

He tried other locations in the nights that followed. His patience was rewarded at last. He watched as a woman walked into the club that he had been sitting in for over two hours. It was around two A.M., and she was with some people who were obviously friends. He watched them and could tell that it was not her idea to be there. Everything about her screamed money, from her hair to her shoes and her body language added a subtle note of low self-esteem that made her a perfect target. As he got closer he realized that she was younger than him; not by much, but still not the age group that he usually worked on. He hesitated and looked around; this area of LA was for the younger crowd, not the country club set. Unless he was willing to walk away and relocate to a different part of LA, this was it. She would be looking for Mr. Right not just a good time and a roll in the sack. The second thoughts passed quickly.

The pickup was easy. His ability to read people made it seem like they had a great deal in common. Spiritualists and mind readers used the same techniques in their work. He had studied the human condition for years and had come close to a degree in Psychology at the University of Virginia. By the time they parted at four A.M. he knew everything that he needed to know about her and she had everything that he wanted her to think that she knew about him.

Robyn was giddy when she finally left with her friends. He was drop dead gorgeous; the most beautiful man she had ever met and he really seemed interested in her.

Her best friend was leaning on her fiance for support. She smiled at Robyn and said, Don’t you think that he was a little too good looking?

Her fiance unlocked the car door and mumbled, Yeah Robyn, he’s probably gay. Then he quickly ducked inside the car to avoid the playful fists of the two girls.

Chapter Three

So tell me about this ideal man you have met. When did you meet him?

"A couple of months ago; we met at the Estar Maria. Robyn Wilson suddenly felt nervous. Her mother had that effect on her. Somehow, she had found out about Edward. How did you know that I was dating someone?"

Margaret Huggins had never taken Robyn’s father’s name; and now that they were divorced, she saw no reason to use it. She was closer to 50 than 40 but she looked 30. Her Dutch ancestry was well diluted after three centuries of intermingling with other nationalities in this country, but it showed plainly in her face. She had just started coloring her hair, and kept it close to the blonde color that she had been born with. Tall and physically fit, she wasn’t quite beautiful enough to be a model, but she could still turn heads when she walked into a room.

Robyn took after her father who tended to be darker, and a few minutes in the sun was all it took to give her a golden tan. She had grown up in the shadows of two highly successful people and had not shown any interest in either of their careers. Her liberal arts degree from Berkeley led her to briefly work for her mother in business, but it was obvious that she had neither the interest nor the aptitude for the work. Her mother did not want her to be the office joke so she stopped encouraging her to work. Her father was a surgeon, but Robyn had no interest in anything related to blood so that career field was out also. She was not a playgirl, rarely went out, and did not do drugs for fun. For the last year she had been doing volunteer work for the homeless shelter program in city hall. She didn’t work with the homeless, but she did work with the companies that provided shelter space when it was available. It kept her busy, but at the old age of 25, she was bored and shy. Edward Daniels was a perfect fit; he always seemed to understand what she needed.

I can see it in you. You are different; you don’t have a job that you could call a career, but I am glad that you are doing the volunteer work. Anyway, that cannot be why you are happy. In my experience that adds up to a man in your life, she smiled to take the sting of the interrogation out of her questions. Are you going to tell me about him? Maggie settled back into the comfortable wing backed chair that she had bought when she furnished the apartment for her daughter. Her body language was subtle but it definitely said, I’m not leaving until you talk.

Robyn frowned, Not yet. I don’t know him well enough to feed him to the lions yet. Give me a little more time to enjoy him and then you and Father can go to work on him. This was the first time she had ever come close to telling her mother to butt out of her life.

So this is serious. Warning bells went off in her brain. She was not used to Robyn standing up to her and her body language told her everything she needed to know. She was successful in business because she knew people; she could tell what they wanted, by the way they stood, the way they talked, or just the expression on their face. There was more to it than that though; it was as if she could feel what they were feeling. Her favorite game, well really her second favorite game, was Poker. Her favorite game was Sex. Until this moment though, Robyn has always been a mystery. She couldn’t read her the way she did most people. She had thrown out the first probe and Robyn had fallen for it because of her lack of experience; now all she had to do was wait and her daughter would eventually tell her everything.

Mother, please, just let me enjoy this without you and Father getting involved. I will let you know if we ever start talking about marriage. She had tried, but didn’t completely succeed in keeping the child like whine out of her voice. Her Mother had the uncanny ability to reduce her to a whimpering child in seconds. She felt the urge to leave before her mother found out anything else