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Check out this online reviews for The Slave Factory: Exposed!

The Slave Factory: Exposed! This is the second volume in a planned trilogy about a secret organization with roots that date back nearly two millennia. In the initial volume, Per il piacere del Maestro and its training center The Academy, served as the mechanism through which an eclectic collection of characters are passed on their way into a year of servitude and slavery after a grueling training program of Dominance and submission that involved extreme sexual and edge-play BDSM practices.

Significant reader feedback from volume one The Slave Factory posed the question, which was what happened next? What is in store for the staff and students, of that secret organization known only to the elite of the lifestyle, and of the place called The Academy? Read on to find out what volume two has to offer Fitzpatrick, Tonya, the Mistresses and Masters, and former students from The Academy. This time, there is a lot more going on than just scenes that played out in the dungeon and on beds.

This is the continuing story of the graduate students of Per il piacere del Maestro and the Masters and Mistresses of The Academy. The malevolent Conner Brennan, AKA Mr. Green, believes he was cheated out of his property. He feels the only way to appease his anger is to settle the score. And so the thrilling next part if the story begins!

Caution: This story contains scenes involving explicit sexual contact and numerous depictions of BDSM activities. Recommended for Adults eighteen or over.

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A Look Inside the Story

Mr. Green’s Anger

Conner Brennan’s anger at having the pretty Slave Tonya snatched from his grasp had not subsided in the least. By the time he reached the terminal at JFK, his being pissed off had reached its zenith. The blank stare and scowl on his face frightened the little girl that sat across from him as he waited for the announcement of his boarding call. The way he occasionally looked at her made her cover her face as she snuggled tightly against her mother in the US Airways boarding area for Flight Seventeen to El Paso.

He felt that nothing was going right. It all started when that asshole Fitzpatrick butted into his business all gallant like. He thought aloud to himself, “Who does he think he is pulling some shit like that, claiming some Android Do Signor bullshit. What the fuck did that mean again? What was it that new head bitch Katherine had called it? Oh yeah, ‘First Night,’ yeah okay I’ve got an announcement for his ‘White Night Ass’ too!” Of course, this would not be the end of that situation; of this, he had no doubts.

Brennan was pissed off and now he had to travel all the way to Phoenix…sit for two more hours just to wait until his final leg to El Paso could begin. He was further pissed about the numerous no smoking signs posted big as day throughout the terminal. Those signs were keeping him from smoking his long awaited Cuban cigar that he had brought with him to celebrate acquiring a new slave bitch. Just the thought of taking that long endless walk was enough to make him change his mind especially when it meant having to reach the outside areas just for a few minutes to take a draw and puff. That would also require another pass through the fucking security systems that kept the terrorists and psychopaths off the airplanes, or so they claimed. No thanks, he decided to pass on that.

 “Fuck this shit,” he finally exclaimed loudly, causing even more distress to the little girl across from him who cowered closer to her mother’s side.

He reached inside his coat pocket and after glaring angrily… relentlessly at his boarding pass, he ripped it into a half dozen pieces and threw it onto the terminal floor. Thirty minutes later, his anger still growing and like a festered boil, he sat and fumed some more while he waited for his private jet direct-charter to El Paso to be fueled up, rolled out of its hanger, and readied for flight.

Brennan pulled out a cell phone from his coat pocket, the one that automatically scrambled the audio and began punching in the number for his chief lieutenant.

“Benny, its Conner here, I’ll be touching down in El Paso in about three hours. Get on the phone, arrange a car and driver, and reserve a couple of rooms at the El Paso Marriott. Once you get that handled, then I want you to haul your ass down there as well. We’re going to take a little trip over to Juarez and do some shopping.”

“Sure Boss,” Benny replied, “Is something wrong? You sound like you’re upset.”

Brennan grumbled back, “I’ve had better days.”

Benny replied, “No problem Boss, you want me to line up some Texas Pussy for you?”

“Nah, if I want some ass, there’s plenty of it around; I’ve got more important needs to see to at the moment. Contact that fucker Rodriguez down in Mexico and tell him I’m looking to do some business with him.”

Brennan was certain that Rodriquez would know exactly what kind of business he had in mind since they had discussed what Alejandro Rodriguez had to offer the last time he had gone south of the Rio Grande. Only Brennan’s desire to have the best flesh that money could afford kept him from buying one of Rodriguez’s whores the previous time they had met two months earlier.

“Do you want Senior Rodriguez to meet with you in El Paso?” Benny asked.

“No!  Tell him to get a room at the El Paso Suites in Juarez under the name of Pablo Gomez, and tell him we will meet him there around seven-tomorrow evening. Tell him to bring his catalog.” 

“Will do Boss, I’ll call you back as soon as I get all of the arrangements setup.”

As Brennan waited for someone to fetch him for boarding, he rolled his cigar between his fingers. He intended to have it lit by the time the wheels of his plane left the ground. He continued to fume about being fucked-over and cheated out on owning Slave Tonya. “No cunt-bitch was worth fifty million goddamn dollars,” he told himself in an attempt to stifle his anger, even a fine looking little piece of candy as she had been.

He just wasn’t able to get that Head Master bastard out of his thoughts or off his mind. He had never liked the son of a bitch, with all his polite mannerisms, protocols and nonchalant bullshit. For a moment, Brennan considered getting even with Fitzpatrick. He fantasized that maybe having his new bitch stolen right out from under his high-class assed nose, from inside his own fucking bedroom, under his so-called watchful eye, that would teach his stuck-up superior ass a lesson…the prick. A moment later, another onset of anger hit him. He whispered under his breath… “Nobody fucks with Conner Brennan and gets away with it… nobody! It’s time someone imparted a little street knowledge into his punk ass.”

Brennan did not like being blindsided, not for one minute. Knowing what Fitzpatrick’s last name was, it would be a snap to fuck him over; one phone call would do it, easily. Nah, he thought, that would be too easy and too easy on Fitzpatrick McMullen. That bastard needs to be taught a lesson and he felt he was just the person to get the job done. Moments later, a young lady in a powder blue flight attendant’s uniform walked up to Brennan and informed him with a sweet congenial voice, “We’re ready for you Sir, if you will just follow me.”

Brennan looked up to see the woman standing before him, “Right, it’s about time,” Brennan snapped, “What’s your name Honey?”

“Danielle,” the attendant replied cheerfully.

“Danielle huh… Good, you can be a real sweetheart and pour a double shot of Wild Turkey for me,” Brennan said, as he followed the girl towards the airport tarmac he added, “No ice.” He liked the way her ass bobbled as she walked a few paces ahead of him. He wondered how much of a tip he would have to lay out to get some head off the bitch once he had his drink; not much probably, he assumed.

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