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Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 01

By: humbleservantbeijing



The Broken Destiny of Cindy's Humble Servant:

A Story of a Terrible Love in too Many Parts

Had I the heaven's embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half-light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread Softly because you tread on my dreams.

W.B. Yeats

She chose for herself the English name Cindy. I cannot choose another name for her because this name has become a word of power for me, a potent Om. Just hearing these two syllables can cause my restless blood to surge. No other name will work for me, and so in this story I must leave her name as it is.

She came from Dongbei to Beijing with her Chinese boyfriend, her college sweetheart, and she had been working at my company as my assistant for six years. 

When Cindy first joined my company, there was perhaps a window of opportunity for me, through which I might have dated, and then married her, and had children with her, and fulfilled the destiny that had been laid out for me. When she first joined my company, I was in the last gasps of a terrible failed relationship. The girl I was with and I fought all night every night, and my morale was very low. Also, when I first met Cindy, I did not recognize her for who she was. She dated two of my foreign employees in succession, and it meant nothing to me. Suddenly though, one day not long after I had finally finished with the girl I had been dating, I recognized who Cindy was, and I asked her to come up to my office. I declared my love to her, and told her that I would give anything and everything for a future with her, but she only sat there across from me staring blankly.

I was surprised by this, because it had always been so easy for me to win over Chinese female members of my staff. I sent her excessively romantic text messages, but she did not answer these. I realized then that I was too late. She had started to date one of my foreign employees, a very handsome and charming young Irish man. I had to watch them flirt and play every day at the office, and when I criticized them, it seemed as though I were jealous, and small hearted; which I was. I told her that this young man would only be staying in China for a short while, and that she had no future with him. She told me that this is what she wanted. She said that she was going to marry her Chinese boyfriend eventually, but that she felt that it was only fair that she should have a chance to be with one man other than her future husband. 

I wept, and told her that I would do anything for her. I would give her a family, look after her family, and love her every second of every day. She told me that this was not what she wanted. She said that she would not feel comfortable being with someone who loved her so much. She wanted someone who would be equal to her, not someone who worshipped her. She told me she felt disgusted when men she did not want made advances on her. I asked her coldly had she experienced this often, and she told me even more coldly that she had.

The more Cindy rejected my advances, the more I desired her. I felt no interest in other women, though I had many opportunities. I began to jack off while looking at photos of Cindy, and this became the only way that I could find sexual release.

In China, bosses are often able to take liberties with their female assistants, and I'd had some experience with this. This added to my humiliation in being so firmly and so coldly rebuffed by Cindy. By her standards I was quite well off. I was an exotic westerner; tall, blonde haired and blue eyed, and I could offer her a foreign passport. Still, she always kept me at arms length, and showed no reaction to my confessions of love but frustration and disdain. I could not get closer to her by offering gifts, by appealing to her vanity, or by shocking her by openly telling her of the extent of my devotion. I realized then that I was getting older, and I was not the catch I had once been. She was twenty seven, and I was forty five. My foreign members of staff with whom she flirted were all around twenty seven years of age. Age had never seemed to be an impediment to me before, but now my advancing years, the wrinkles creeping out from the corner of my eyes, and the increasing difficulty I had in keeping my waist slim, were the deepest of humiliations to me. 

Whenever I put too much pressure on Cindy, she threatened to leave my company, and I would have done anything to avoid this loss. Though she was a source of terrible frustration to me, I needed to be near to her, and could not imagine losing her from my life. More and more, she became my reason for living. When she threatened to leave my company, I would beg her to stay, and this spectacle was often witnessed by other members of my staff, so that I began to lose the respect of my colleagues. When there was a disagreement between us, Cindy thought nothing of shouting at me, and harshly scolding me in front of anyone present.

The years went by like this. My company became very successful, because the only way that I could impress Cindy was to achieve success in business. I worked so hard for our company, in the futile hope that she would one day respect me. 

Though I knew it was my only hope, it was impossible for me to play it cool with her, and she knew full well that she would prevail in any dispute between us. When I one day confessed to her that for five years I had only had sexual release by masturbating while looking at photos of her, she told me that she would quit her job if I said such a thing again. A year later, I told her that I had borrowed her slippers from under her desk and kissed them while looking at a photo of her so that I could feel closer to her, and she said nothing, but took the slippers home the next day.

Where I will fail in telling this story will be in my inability to describe Cindy to you. Of course words cannot describe her to you, or make you understand what things about her had such power over me. There was something about her face that enthralled me. She had high, arching eyebrows and a warm and knowing smile. She could appear coy, and she could appear regal. I can do little more to describe what to me was sheer perfection. Her voice covered all tones in its range. It was rich and full. It could be harsh in anger, musical in laughter, and soft in confidence. She could look like a 1930s glamour model, a purring sex kitten, or a competent professional. My prime concern in life became in studying the shifting inflections of her face. Though she was Chinese, her eyes seemed Indian. They were Siddhartha eyes. I was obsessed by the shadows beneath her eyes, which came alive when she smiled. Her lips were full and expressive, and when she smiled exquisite dimples appeared at either side of them. Her face was longer and slimmer than most Chinese women. Her jaw was proud and forward, and the front row of her teeth arched strangely. 

All parts of her were exquisite because they belonged to her. Her fingers were fleshy yet slim, and her nails well manicured and long. She wore polish on these, but no color. Her body was fuller than most Chinese girls, but still slim overall. She had full breasts, and full hips. Her ass was amazing; so round, elevated and arrogant. Her skin was white as chalk. I could study all the pieces of her body for hours on end. Every inch of her was the holiest of holies to me. When I saw her, all I wanted to do was to throw myself at her feet, and to kiss the ground beneath her shoes. I was jealous of the ground on which she stood, and the seats on which she sat. I wanted nothing more than to be this ground, or these seats, but because I was a man and not a thing this was denied to me. This seemed so unjust.

As for her character, Cindy was a contradiction. On the one hand she was very traditionally Chinese, and never spoke about sexual topics, or flirted in an overt way. On the other hand she was extroverted, loud and touchy. Her laugh was powerful, and she joked in a loud and bossy way. Her presence filled any room: others became meek and silent ghosts before the hurricane of her vitality. Her stride was jaunty and proud, and her demeanor was humorous, extroverted and forceful. Though she was not flirtatious, she gave off a sexy aura of that neither man nor woman could fail to be affected by. She was not vain, and she did not dress to show off her body, but she could not hide it. She sometimes wore glasses, which made her look bookish, like an office girl. 

I cannot describe what it was about her, but I had been obsessed with everything about her for over five years. My moods were dependent on her attitudes toward me. She was sometimes sunny, but more often cold and aloof. This was a never ending source of grievance, because with our colleagues she was always laughing and joking, but with me she was usually just business. When I asked her to come up to my office, she would listen to me patiently, take notes and offer advice, and then, when I had run out of excuses to keep her there any longer, she would ask: "Is that it, then?" and leave me office with a jaunty stride as I sat there alone in a sulk. She knew how much I wanted to speak to her about my feelings for her, but she always deftly denied me this opportunity. I began to lose all of my pride. 

She was touchy feely with everyone but me, and this made me feel despair. As she passed her colleagues in the hall, she would slap them on the back, and sometimes even on the ass. She was such a vibrant and extroverted presence. I often whined to her, "Why can't you treat me in the friendly way that you treat other people." She would reply: "I can't be myself with you because I know you have special feelings for me, and I don't feel comfortable with you." I said to her once: "I wish I were a woman, so that you could be friends with me, and be comfortable around me." She curled her lips in puzzlement and distaste, and then changed the subject. 

I bought a car just so that I would have the chance to offer her a lift home now and then. She sometimes accepted, but more often declined. I was quiet and polite when I drove her home, for fear of saying something that might make her uncomfortable. She also said little. We both knew that I would pay the price of silence for the privilege of driving her home. I saved money in the hope that one day I could be useful to her. There was nothing I wouldn't have done for her, but there was nothing I could do to make her want to be closer to me. I was forever pleading her to tell me that I was her friend, and yet she never would. She refused to concede that she would be upset were I to die. She said she only had room in her heart for her boyfriend, and that no one else meant anything to her. She knew that she had me in the palm of her hand, but she didn't want me there. She reminded me again and again that she had always felt disgusted by men who admired her too much.

I could think about nothing but her: I had no sexual feeling unless I was thinking of her, and when I knelt in front of my computer looking at photos of her, zooming in on different parts of her, I had the most intense orgasms of my life. Sometimes as I spewed cum into a tissue I had placed in front of myself, I gasped "Cindy! I love you!" to the indifferent image on the computer screen. When I masturbated to her image, I did not imagine her naked, or far less having sex with me. She was too high above me for me to even dream of this. Instead, I imagined myself kneeling in front of her, and professing my love to her. I imagined myself undergoing trials, in order to prove my devotion to her.

I often hoped that my futile adoration would abate, but it did not. Instead, it grew stronger and stronger. I thought about her until I fell asleep; I dreamed about her and then woke to thoughts of her. I hurried to work for the chance to see her for a second, and say good morning in passing. The entire temper of my day hung upon the tone of that first good morning. Everything I did, I did to impress her. I saved money, bought a car and a house, looked after my body and my appearance, but nothing I did let me grow closer to her. When I tried to discuss my feelings with her, she told me that she loved her boyfriend, and that I shouldn't say such things to her.

When I heard, though, that her Chinese boyfriend was going to work in Africa for a year, and that she would not go with him, I hatched a desperate plan. It began as a daydream, as a sexy fantasy, which grew when I knelt before my computer screen, tugging myself off before an image of Cindy. As I lost more and more self respect though, and as my worship of Cindy grew, it began to solidify, and take on its own life. At first, after orgasm I simply forgot about this plan, but later, it stayed with me longer, and became less and less of a fantasy, and more and more of a plan. I knew all along that it was madness, and that it would ruin me, but more and more, as her slights heaped themselves upon my head, I wanted to be ruined by my love for Cindy. 

My plan had a strange logic, and a mathematical certainty. Were I to bring it to life, I could not fail but to show Cindy how much I belonged to her. The key to the plan was Laura. Laura was an English girl from Leeds who had worked at my company a few years before, but had left because she felt we did not pay enough. Now, she lived in the international part of the city, among foreigners, discos and bars. My part of the city had no foreigners, and I always hoped to keep Cindy away from the international part of the city, afraid that she would find something better there.

Laura was the archetypal slapper: she had big tits and a big ass and a stupid slutty face. She would have made a decent porn star. She wore low cut tops and low jeans that revealed the crack of her ass. She was loud, like Cindy, but unlike Cindy she was lewd and graceless. She and Cindy had been good friends while she worked at my company: although they were different, Cindy found Laura's openness refreshing and humorous. They didn't keep in touch much anymore, but occasionally messaged one another on facebook.

Laura had a very low opinion of me. Once, when she worked with us, we had gone out to a club together on the east side of Beijing. She ended up accompanying me home to my apartment and we spent the night together. During the night, she tried to entice me to have sex with her: she played with my cock and sucked me, but I did not reciprocate. The next morning I told her how I felt about Cindy, and that I could only feel sexual arousal while looking at her photos. I hadn't thought of how this would hurt Laura's vanity. She was angry at me, and she called me a sicko and a stalker before storming out of the apartment. Later, she told Cindy and all of my colleagues what I had told her. To be honest, I wasn't upset that she had announced this, because I wanted it to be known. Cindy pretended she had never heard this, and continued to work with me, keeping me always at arm's length.

I called and met up with Laura in one of the bars in her part of town. I made a proposal, and I knew she would accept it, as it appealed to her wounded vanity, it offered her money, and it gave her the chance to experience something new. She introduced me to two of her friends, and I reiterated the plan that I hoped these three would help me with. They agreed, and laughed as I handed over money to each of them. I sent them all emails explaining the details of what I had in mind, and I wrote up and signed a statement outlining what I had asked them to do, and how much I had paid them to do so.

The next week, I arrived at Laura's apartment at 4:00 in the afternoon. I knew that she had succeeded in making arrangements to meet up with Cindy that evening, and I knew that she had convinced Cindy to meet with her boyfriend and his friend. I knew also that Cindy had no idea that I would be there. As I knocked the door, there was a lump in my throat, and my heart was beating so hard that it felt as though it would leap out of my mouth. I was experiencing a sort of tunnel vision.

Laura answered the door breezily and nonplussed, and welcomed me in. Though she behaved civilly toward me, neither of us could completely conceal our contempt for the other. She was not in the least shy about what was going to happen, and got down to business without any small talk. She looked at the bag I held, and said "you can get changed in the lav," and then she sat down on the sofa and turned on the TV. 

I went into the toilet and shut the door behind me. My hands were shaking as I began to take off my clothes, and when I happened to glance in the mirror I was shocked to see the look of dread on my flushed face. I stood naked, and I could hear the TV from the other room. I opened the bag and took out white stockings and a garter belt. I fastened the garter belt around my waist, pulled the stockings up over my shaven legs, and then fastened the four snaps dangling from the frilly garter belt to the lacy stocking tops. I slipped semi transparent white panties up over my shaven cock and balls. These panties were too small, and they crept up the crack of my ass. I pulled a frilly French maids outfit over my head, and pulled down the hem of the skirt. It came to just beneath my buttocks, about three long inches above where the garter clasped the stockings. I put on an apron, and frilly wrist and neck pieces. I put on a blonde bob wig, and put the frilly maid headpiece over this.

I took a deep breath and tried to calm my beating heart. I did not dare to look in the mirror, because I knew what an awful sight I must have been. I had always been disgusted to see photos of men dressed as sissies. There seemed to me to be nothing crasser. I was mortified. I was under no illusions as to the merits of my personal presentation. I knew that I was not in any way convincing or sexy. I was pathetic at best; utterly repulsive. I felt slightly calmer though, as I began to take on the persona of the clothes I was wearing. Having fallen so far, it was less frightening to fall any farther. 

I put the clothes I had taken off in the bag and carried it with me into the living room. I stood nervously at the entrance to the living room and said: "I'm ready, Ms."

She did not look up from the TV immediately. When she did, she said roughly: "Is that the best little girl's voice you've got?" I was taken aback: when I had asked them to let me dress as a maid for them on this evening, I had not considered this. Laura was improvising, and this worried me. Still, I was no longer in a position to set the ground rules.

"No Ms, I'm sorry Ms," I said, attempting a feminine falsetto, and looking down and blushing deeply. I knew how disgusting it sounded to hear a man putting on a little girl's voice, and I was not comfortable with it at all. It was the only thing worse than the cross dressing itself. 

She pointed to the center of the living room. The expression on her face making no secret of the fact that she felt I was repulsive. I went to the centre of the room and stood looking down and holding onto my bag of clothes.

"Bag down you silly cow!" she barked, and I put the bag at my feet and stood holding the fingers of one hand, as I had been taught to do when I felt nervous on stage in grade school.

"You curtsy before you carry out a command, and say 'yes Ms!'" she scolded.

I curtsied and said "Yes, Ms."

"VOICE!"

"Yes Ms. Sorry Ms," I said in a higher and squeakier voice, and curtsied again.

Laura got up and walked around me, taking her time. "God you are revolting!" She tugged one of my garters, and let it snap back against my skin. I was shivering, and I recognized that I was utterly at the mercy of my enemy. She stood in front of me, and because I could not help but look down, away from her gaze, I found myself staring straight at her voluptuous white breasts. They seemed very sexy now, and I realized that though I had once scorned them, I would not have the chance to scorn them again: from now on any scorn would be aimed directly at me. She held my chin between her thumb and forefinger, and turned my face up so that I was compelled to look into her eyes. I did not like her face, but I knew that I should not look away. She was in complete control, and she wanted to drive this home to me by forcing me to meet her gaze, by not permitting me to hide my soul away. 


Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 01



"You are fucked, do you know that?" 

She seemed to be waiting for an answer, so I whispered "Yes Ms" in my little girl's voice. I could not curtsy because she still held me by my chin. 

She held my gaze for a moment more, to let me know that she could see straight through me, and then she laughed again, let go of my chin and said "We're going to have a lot of fun with you tonight." She picked up my bag and went to the door. "These will go to charity. You can start tidying, love. I'll be back in a mo. Cindy will be here at 6:00, and the lads will be here at 7:00." Seeing her big ass, slim waist and bouncing tits, I realized that she was a very sexy girl, and I was nothing but a freak. How I had fallen since the night I refused her advances! My cock began to swell up in the tightness of the tiny white panties. I felt so vulnerable. I didn't know if I could go through with this, and as she opened the door, with my bag of clothes in hand, I almost begged her to stop, and let me back out of the whole thing.

I tidied, did the dishes and began to sweep the floor. She was gone much longer than I had expected, and I was worried that she was up to something by the time she returned at 5:15. She ignored me as she walked around the apartment inspecting my work. She sat back down on the sofa and rang a little bell which she took out of her purse, and then she put the bell on the coffee table. I approached the coffee table, curtsied and said "Yes Ms?"

"Right love, you've done a good job. I guess you're good for something after all," she said, putting on the accent of an English governess. "I want you to go into the lavvy, fill the red tub under the sink with hot water. Take the blue toothbrush and the tub into the spare bedroom and start scrubbing the floor. Start in the far corner. I don't want you to miss an inch, do you understand?"

"Yes Ms," I curtsied.

"Are you sure?" she patronized.

"Yes Ms." I curtsied again and turned to carry out her instructions. As I left the room, she turned on the television.

There was no clock in the spare bedroom, but I felt every second advancing toward Cindy's arrival. As I persisted at the mundane and humiliating chore of scrubbing the floor with a tooth brush, I became more and more accustomed to the costume that I wore and the role that I was playing. Waves of vertigo still coursed through me, however, each time I recalled that Cindy would soon be here, and that she would see me like this, and that I would lose whatever small piece of respect she had for me. I would become less than nothing in the eyes of the woman that I loved with all my heart, who I adored with every particle of my being. Cindy was not a woman I merely wanted to have sex with; she was the woman that I wanted to marry, and love forever as her husband.

I was awash in horror, and my cock was as stiff as a hanged man's cock. I was kneeling scrubbing the floor, and the skirt I wore hardly covered my ass. I looked at the door to see that Laura wasn't watching, and then I reached under the skirt and stroked the head of my cock where it protruded above the panties once, twice, thrice, and then I shivered and stopped, afraid that I would come with one more stroke. I had fallen as low as any man could fall: I had lost every vestige of respect. I was nothing. 

I'd heard a few text message notifications to Laura's phone during the time I had been scrubbing the floor, but when a call came through it put my nerves utterly on edge, and my teeth began to chatter. Laura let the phone ring for about ten seconds, and then I heard her call out happily, "Ciiiiindyyyy! Where are you, Gorgeous?" I could hear a faint trace of Cindy's loud, humorous and enthusiastic voice on the other end of the line, and there was a sinking in my stomach: I felt that I might vomit. "Good. I'm in building 12, apartment 983, 9th floor. God I'm looking forward to seeing you." I could detect warmth and enthusiasm in the faint trace of Cindy's reply. Laura continued: "One thing I should warn you though, my cleaning boy is here now: he's got some work to catch up on here this evening." I strained to hear Cindy's reply. I could hear that she was asking questions enthusiastically. "He's just an admirer, and he likes to clean. Brian doesn't mind him helping out. He's very sweet and polite, bless his soul, so don't worry about him." I did not have to listen closely to hear Cindy erupt in good spirited laughter. "Yes, he tidies up for me, and does the dishes, and then I send him home. He's not important. The guys will be here at seven, so hurry and get your sexy ass up here." Cindy's reply was too soft for me to make out. "That's the girl! It's about time you had some fun. You deserve it. See you in a mo'."

I had stopped scrubbing the floor so I could listen, and I knelt there frozen like a rabbit in headlights, waiting for Laura to come in and gloat on Cindy's imminent arrival. I felt so afraid of her now. When she did not come in I returned to scrubbing the floor with the toothbrush, almost grateful she had not come in, and almost grateful that scrubbing the floor took my mind off my impending immolation under Cindy's gaze. 

I had been scrubbing the floor now alone in this room for about 40 minutes in total, and though my knees were aching I had begun to feel comfortable with the solitude. When I heard Cindy's rap on the door, I nearly stood up, but resisted my panicky need to flee. There was no way I could get away now. They were between me and the door, and I did not even have my clothes. I felt now that I couldn't bear for Cindy to see me like this. I could hear them greeting one anther warmly. I could tell that Laura hugged Cindy, as she always did when they met up. Cindy's bright laughter was a feather across my heart and my cock. I could hear Laura thanking Cindy for a gift, and Cindy replying politely. Her voice was music. 

Laura began to show Cindy around the apartment. I listened to their footsteps meander leisurely around the apartment. The living room, the kitchen, the toilet. . . I bowed my head to my work and attempted to disappear into my task. I could not bear the tension so I focused only on the task, the toothbrush scrubbing the wooden floor. From the corner of my eye I could make out their feet appear in the door, and then Cindy broke out in a peal of beautiful laughter.

"And this is the help. Don't stop now, princess." Laura said as I stopped scrubbing and froze.

"It's Peter?" Cindy said in a low and amazed voice.

"Yes it is."

Cindy exhaled a humorous hmmph, that was part contempt, and part a weary 'I should have guessed.' I was crushed, and put in my place by this exhalation. The two of them stood at the door looking down at me as I scrubbed the floor with a toothbrush. The skirt has ridden up so that my panties and the lower part of my ass were exposed.

"Let's leave the little darling to it and have a gossip, shall we," Laura said, leading Cindy from the room. 

Cindy let out another half laugh half sigh, and I heard their feet move back towards the living room. I continued scrubbing. I had expected Cindy to ask some questions about me, but she did not. Nor did Laura mention me. Instead, they discussed Laura's apartment, their jobs, and people that they had worked together with at my company. Laura seemed to be at pains to stress that they had all moved on to better things. My knees ached, and the simple task that had taken my mind off my dire straights had become excruciating. I had dreamt of this experience for so long, and I hadn't even had a chance to see Cindy yet. I wiped sweat from under my wig, and I felt flustered. Just when I thought I could bear it no longer, I heard Laura's little bell ring. I got up very stiffly. My knees were stiff and I had pins and needles in my feet as I hobbled into the living room, not daring to look up at the ladies. I could see that Cindy was wearing white trousers and shiny black high heeled shoes. She rarely wore such clothes, but when she did she looked so well.

"Yes, Ms," I croaked, my voice rough after having not spoken for so long. As I curtsied Cindy giggled.

"Again," Laura instructed wearily. "Go back and try it again."

I turned and went out of the room and then came back and curtsied more deeply, and said with the best girlish voice I could summon: "Yes Ms."

"Zhen Bu hao ting," -- Really bad sounding -- Cindy said in Chinese. I had not dared to look above her feet yet, and now I dared to glance at her face, but looked down again as though I had glanced into the sun. She was too stunning to bear. She was wearing make up, which she almost never did, and she was smiling comfortably and ironically, with exquisite dimples set into either side her luscious lips: her best expression. I looked down and held my forefinger as I had been taught to do in grade school. 

"Did you hear that, princess? Cindy doesn't like the sound. Out and try it again."

Cindy giggled astonished as I went back, came in again, curtsied again, and said softly "Yes Ms."

"Better?" Laura asked Cindy

"Hai shi bu hao ting," -- Still sounds bad -- Cindy laughed in Chinese.

"Again," Laura commanded, pointing.

"Xing, xing," - - ok, ok -- "I don't think any use," Cindy said. I could feel their eyes upon me, but I did not dare to look up. My eyes could not help but worship Cindy's feet. One foot rocked back and forth from heel to toe in a lazy unconscious rhythm. 

"What would you like to drink?" Laura asked Cindy.

Cindy thought for a moment. "Do you have Chinese tea?"

"Come on Cindy, have something stronger."

"No sorry I don't drink," and then a pause, "maybe later."

"Right love," Laura addressed me roughly. "Chinese tea, and a vod and orange."

I hesitated for a moment then asked "Sorry Ms, where do you keep the green tea? I didn't. . ."

"Don't be such a lazy cow," Laura roared. "Get your ass in there and find it!"

"Yes, Ms," I said meekly as I curtseyed and then went toward the kitchen.

"WALK," Laura roared, and I made sure to sway my hips and take mincing steps as I continued into the kitchen.

"Zhen ue xing," -- disgusting -- Cindy said roughly and with spirit in Chinese as I left the living room.

"Extremely," agreed Laura, and they chuckled. 

I found the tea and prepared their drinks. As I did so, I could hear that Laura was showing Cindy photos of Brian and Colin on her mobile phone.

"What do you think?" Laura asked.

"Zhen Shuai," -- very handsome -- Cindy said.

"You little minx! You promise me that you will have a good time tonight?"

"I promise."

"Good girl. Brian is mine, and Colin is yours. He's a sexy animal. Sex on legs."

"Aiya!" Cindy exclaimed, her modesty getting the better of her, and then she laughed, amused by Laura's openness. 

I came into the living room holding their drinks on a tray. I glanced up at them for an instant. They stopped talking and looked at me. Cindy had her knees bent and her feet up at the side of the sofa. She had her arm along the back of the sofa and she was fully facing Laura. Laura was watching me closely. As I bent to put the drinks on the coffee table, Cindy slowly and casually glanced at me. "Thank you Peter," she said politely.

I looked down instantly and whispered "You're welcome, Cindy."

"Take the tray away and then put that stool facing the corner and sit quietly," Laura directed.

"Yes Ms." I curtsied while still holding the tray, then returned the tray and sat on the low stool, facing the corner. I felt relieved to be facing the corner and not having to face the temptation of gazing into the holy fire that was Cindy. 

"How many guys have you slept with Cindy?" Laura asked.

"Hai," Cindy sighed, exasperated by Laura's openness. "You know the answer. Only one."

"My god. That is a crime, my dear."

Laura's phone rang.

"Hiyah sausage," she answered "Where are you?" I heard a manly reply, and my head sunk in shame. "Is the hunk with you? Great, get your ass up here. Let Cindy talk to the driver," she said, handing the phone to Cindy.

"Hello," Cindy said sweetly. There was a manly, flirtatious reply. "I look forward to meeting you too," Cindy replied, sounding shy and young. "I've heard a lot about you too. And about Brian." Steve replied with enthusiasm. "Yes, ok, see you soon," Cindy said. She assumed her normal loud and extroverted voice again as she gave directions to the taxi, and assumed a soft and charming voice again when the phone was handed back to the lads. "Hi Brian," her voice was so charming it broke my heart. Brian spoke for a few moments. His voice was deep and melodious. "Yes, he's here... Yes... Disgusting!" she said with enthusiasm, and continued to listen. "Sitting in the corner now...no way! Never." She listened for a moment more and then laughed.

"Ask them what they want to drink?" Laura whispered. 

"Laura ask what you want to drink?" She listened, "auh? say again. . . whiskey coke? Ok. What Steve wants?. . . Just beer. . . Ok." She listened again for a few moments and then, "OK, see you guys soon." She handed the phone back to Laura.

"Well, what do you think?"

"Hao," -- good.

The bell rang and I stood, came to the centre of the room, curtsied and said "Yes, Ms." I could not help but glance up at Cindy. She looked flushed and happy and she seemed to have become more comfortable with my presence. She still wore her ironic smile, and when she caught me looking at her, her jaw went slightly forward, proudly, as she cast me a cold and superior smirk. I looked down abashed, and wrung the forefinger of my right hand. 

"What did the guys want to drink Cindy?" Laura asked. 

"Brian want whiskey coke. Steve want beer."

"You heard the lady, chop chop," Laura commanded, clapping her hands at me.

"Yes Ms," I said quickly, and hurried to the kitchen to prepare drinks for the men.

"WALK!" Laura roared after me "That's the last time I'm going to tell you!"

I quickly swayed my hips and minced the rest of the way to the kitchen, as Cindy and Laura chuckled behind me. I prepared the drinks, went back to the room and placed them on the coffee table, not looking about the level of the ladies' feet. As I put the drinks down I heard the elevator ding and swoosh open, footsteps in the hall, men's good natured laughter, and then a rapping at the door. As the girls sprang up I did not know what to do, so I stood holding the index finger of my right hand and looking at my feet. I could smell Cindy's hair as she passed me by. I glanced up to see for an instant Cindy's perfect ass and hips. If I were to just reach out now and take her. . . My cock twitched and my cheeks flushed.

"Lads!" Laura said and hugged each man, and Cindy stood a little bit behind her. "This is Cindy. Cindy, this is Steve."

Steve stepped forward and gave Cindy a hug, and a kiss on the cheek, and said "Hey Cindy. I've heard a lot about you."

"I've heard a lot about you too," Cindy replied. She was blushing from the peck on the cheek. She was using a different, softer and more careful voice than normal, one that until now I had only heard her use when she spoke with business leaders.

"And this delicious thing is Brian." Brian stepped forward and politely shook Cindy's hand. "A pleasure," he said, looking her straight in the eyes.

"What do you think? Is she as gorgeous as I said?" Laura asked.

"Delightful," said Brian.

Cindy looked down shyly, and pursed her full lips. Her cheeks were flushed. 

"Very beautiful," said Brian sincerely.

"Thank you," Cindy said modestly, looking up now to meet his eyes.

"And Cindy, is Brian as handsome as in his photos?"

"More handsome," said Cindy in a quiet voice that was not like her.

I felt a knot tighten inside me. What had I done? I glanced up to see the men. They were handsome and likable young men. They were about 27, the same age as the girls. They were dressed smartly, in dark jackets and light shirts. Of course any woman would be impressed by them. And what was I? I was a slightly ugly, wrinkled forty five year old man standing dressed as a maid, ready to speak in a little girl's voice. I was nothing. I was less than nothing.

Brian caught me glancing at him, and I looked down quickly, but too late. He strolled toward me leisurely. All eyes were on me. "So Cindy, I guess this must be your boss?"

"Yes, that's my boss," she chuckled.

They all observed silently as Brian stood squarely in front of me. I continued looking down at my feet, and now at his feet too. Cindy was watching us both and I had no doubt which of us she found more attractive. Brian looked me up and down, saying nothing. I could only imagine the expression he wore. Laura approached and said "Peter, this is Brian."

I curtsied and said as quietly as possible "Nice to meet you sir."

"That's awful! Where are your manners? Look at a guest when you greet him, and speak up!" Laura commanded.

I looked into Brian's dark, taunting eyes and said more loudly, in my little girl's voice, "Nice to meet you sir."

"LOUDER" Laura insisted.

"Nice to meet you, sir." I didn't dare to look away. He was so handsome, and I felt so ugly. He just grinned with his Clooney eyes at me and held my gaze. I could see Cindy watching, with arms crossed up under her full breasts, from the periphery of my vision. Brian chuckled, "Nice to meet you too buddy, nice to meet you too."

"And this is Steve." I turned to face Steve, met his gaze, curtsied and said clearly in my feminine falsetto: "Nice to meet you, sir." He was standing beside Cindy, and she was smiling and amused, like the others, exchanging astonished, ironic glances, and looking right through me as though I was nothing. I was not in on the joke: I was the joke.

"Manners!" Laura reminded. "Approach your guests when you greet them."

I took a few steps toward Steve, and repeated my greeting. He was not as handsome as Brian, but he clearly was the funny one. Cindy was right beside him, and I could not avoid being caught by her amused eyes. There was nowhere to hide. My cock strained against the panties. He just laughed at me. "My god, dude, what are you wearing?" I started to stammer a reply but he waved his hand at me "Don't answer that." Everyone laughed, not so much at what he had said as at his comically dismissive gesture. I could pick Cindy's laugh out from the others, but she was one of them, and I was not. I despaired that I had utterly lost her now; that there would never again be a chance for me to win her affection: this despair drove to a fever pitch my need to serve and to worship her. To worship and to serve Cindy was the only thing in the world that I wanted.

"Have a seat guys," Laura said warmly. Laura and Steve sat together, and Cindy sat close to Brian. "Make us some popcorn," she said to me shortly.

"Yes Ms" I curtsied, and went toward the kitchen.

"WALK! I'm not going to say that again! Next time you will go home! Get back here and do it again!"

All four watched incredulously as I wiggled my hips and minced back to where I had been standing, and said "Yes Ms," in a tiny little girl's voice, and then minced back to the kitchen. No one said anything throughout this performance. As I entered the kitchen, I heard Brian ask loudly "What is that guy's malfunction?"

"Don't worry about him," Laura said, "It's what makes him happy. You have two sexy girls in the room. Don't you think you should be focusing on something else?"

They changed the topic, and engaged in small talk, getting to know one another. By the time I returned with the microwave popcorn, they had for the most part paired off. Laura and Steve were flirting overtly, poking and pulling at one another, and Cindy and Brian were sitting close to one another, speaking quietly about themselves. Brian's arm was up on the back of the sofa, and Cindy's knees were up on the pillows, and she was facing squarely towards him. No one looked up at me as I put the popcorn down, curtsied, and took a few steps back, not sure what to do. I held my index finger and looked at my feet. As no one said anything I moved to against the wall, and simply stood there, awaiting instruction. After several minutes my legs were tired and I felt restless and I shifted my weight from foot to foot. Cindy and Brian seemed to be getting along very well. Brian was quiet, polite, understanding and mature. Cindy was quiet and tender, and I felt that this was just the type of man that appealed to her. What had I done! My heart bled with jealousy as I stood there uncomfortably shifting from foot to foot, unnoticed and utterly superfluous.




Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 01



I could not help but gaze up on occasion to see what was going on between Cindy and Brian. He was speaking to her in a deep and sonorous voice, and she was listening closely, gazing from his eyes to his lips. He had his hand on her knee and she did not seem to notice.

"That's enough of that!" Laura barked, and I looked down, hoping it had not been directed at me. As she approached me, I knew my hopes were in vain. I felt a sharp pain as she took me by the earlobe, pulled my head down so I was stooped over, and led me over to where Brian and Cindy were seated. I was in shock from the sudden breaking of my meditation. She held my ear so that I was bent over facing Cindy and Brian. They had straightened up and were looking at me. They also seemed confused about what had set Laura off.

When dreaming of this event, I had thought that Cindy would be too shy to look at me in this situation: now I realized that I had been a vain fool to think this. Why should she be ashamed? Her cheeks were flushed but her jaw was forward defiantly, proudly, as if to say, 'this is what you want, this is what you get.' She was looking straight into my eyes, part in scorn, and part in indifference. Brian was looking at me impatiently. He did not seem happy to have to have been interrupted. He used the opportunity however to let his arm sink from the back of the coach to over Cindy's shoulders. I was stupid enough to feel surprised that she did not resist the liberty he had taken. It had never been that she was too pure; it was just that she didn't want me! 

Laura intoned regally: "Now I want you to apologize to Brian and Cindy." My heart was in my throat and I gasped "for what?" She let loose with five solid barehanded swats to my ass, pulling my ear lower as she did so. I squirmed and wriggled in shock. Cindy, Brian and Steve erupted in laughter. 

"Brian and Cindy are trying to get to know one another, and they don't want your ugly mug mooning over at them the whole time." She let go of my ear. "Go and get that chair, she commanded, pointing at straight backed wooden chair at the dining table. "Bring it here."

I went to get the chair. "WALK! Goddamn it you are thick! Here. Other way!"

She had me place the straight backed chair with the seat facing Cindy and Brian. "Bend over. Hold onto the seat." I bent over the back of the chair and held onto the seat in front of me, my head and face toward Cindy and Brian. I hung my head in shame. "Head up. If you are sincere you look in someone's eyes when you apologize." I looked up into the onslaught of their gazes. Cindy and Brian had become more comfortable in preparing for the show that seemed to be coming. They both sat facing me, their backs sunk into the sofa. Brian's arm was over Cindy's shoulder, and she had moved in close to him, with her head beside his shoulder. I noticed, with a stab of pain in my heart, that her hand rested high up on his thigh. They seemed to be such a good couple: two young beautiful people so suited to one another. They looked at me coldly: I was only a disturbance, intruding on their privacy, but they were willing to witness the show that Laura was about to put on. 

In one sudden movement I felt my panties pulled down to under my ass cheeks, and my skirt thrown up over my arched back. Cindy humph-ed, and moved in more closely to Colin, holding my eyes with a steely gaze. My big white ass bulged out obscene, vulnerable and comic.

Laura rested her hand on my back and addressed Cindy. "Do you feel comfortable with Peter staring at you and Brian?" Cindy looked over my head at Laura behind me, and curled her lip in disdain. "Disgusting," she said flatly and finally. "Absolutely no."

I groaned softly, and felt tears well up in my eyes.

Laura walked away to the far side of the room, fumbled in a drawer, and began to walk back toward me from behind. Cindy's eyes lit up at Laura behind me, and they exchanged a giggle. Brian looked from Laura to me with a bored expression. 

Suddenly, I heard the whistle of a cane, and felt the wind of it's passing behind my buttocks. I closed my eyes and sighed in despair. 

"Oh yeah baby: you look hot," Brian encouraged Laura, "give it to him."

When I opened my eyes, Cindy eyes were fixed on mine coldly, her jaw set proudly in a smirk. With her eyes, she let me know that there could be no doubt about who should be uncomfortable with the proceedings, and it was not her. Siddhartha eyes, that looked at me without seeing me. She reached up and stroked Collin's chest, her eyes burning into mine defiantly. Brian sat stiff and proud, his handsome lip curled in disdain. He stroked Cindy's elbow, and pulled her into him more closely. I began to tremble.

The first crack landed and I let out a masculine gasp. Three more landed in quick succession, and as I danced around holding my ass, the others erupted in laughter, and Laura scolded "Voice! Voice! Back down, or walk out that door this minute!" I stopped rubbing at the urgent stinging of my ass and bent back down over the back of the chair, and took a hold of the front of the seat. I flinched as the cane whistled through the air again behind me, and I caught Cindy and Brian meet eyes and smirk. Their lips were inches apart. My punishment seemed to be causing them some arousal, though they may not have known it.

"Voice. Remember the voice. After each stroke I want you to tell Brian that you are sorry for gawking at his date." Brian grinned, gaining interest in what was to come. He pulled Cindy in to him, and she stared straight at me, with a look of contempt so powerful that I could not help but whisper: "I love you Cindy, all of this is to show you how I love. . ." Before I'd completed the cane rained down again upon my naked ass, until I grabbed at my burning cheeks and danced on the spot pleading again and again "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Voice! Voice! Bend over! Count and tell Brian how sorry you are! And where is the 'yes Ms?"'

I was completely flustered, and I bent over and grasped the front seat of the chair. I said "yes Ms," desperately, in a small girl's voice.

"Look at Brian! You need to be sincere. There will be ten. Remember, voice, or we start again."

I looked up into Brian's eyes. He was who I wanted to be and where I wanted to be. How could life be so unfair! He held everything that I valued in this world in his arm. I was nothing to him: I was nothing to her. 

Cindy surprised me by kissing him tenderly on the cheek. I could not believe she had done this: I could not believe that she had this cruelty in her. She must have known what this meant to me. I would have died a thousand deaths for one kiss on the cheek from her lips. So little for her to give: so impossible for me to receive.

I felt the cane touch my ass, measuring its distance. I let Brain hold me in his calm, indifferent, masterful gaze. I surrendered, sincerely. Cindy looked on in amusement, her cheeks flushed, exchanging glances and grins with Laura behind me. Suddenly, there was a searing pain across my ass, and I squeaked girlishly and threw back my head, then quickly relocated Brian's Clooney eyes and cried out sincerely in my most girlish voice: "One! I'm very sorry, sir!" 

I settled back down and then, again. Another hot shock of pain, and I wiggled, then re found Brian's gaze and submitted urgently: "Two! Very sorry Sir!" Steve was in hysterics, and even the po-faced Brian was chuckling now, as he held my Cindy to his chest smugly. Cindy was comfortable, and watching my face with quiet and catlike indifference. There was nothing in the world for me but her. There was nothing I would not do to be near her. She was absolutely perfect; every inch of her was perfect.

Another crack! I almost straightened then sank back and whimpered: "Three, I 'm very sorry, sir."

"Down!" Laura commanded, and I arched my back lower and thrust up my burning white buttocks to receive more punishment. I felt the cane stroke my cheeks tenderly, and Cindy and Brian smiled over my head at Laura behind me, as I strained my neck painfully to submit to Brian's gaze. Now, I felt an unbelievable peace begin to swell in my heart. I looked at Cindy and whispered: "I love you."

Cindy held my eyes, and shook her head slowly to say no. Siddhartha eyes. Tears began to well up in my eyes, and then a swoosh and a crack left me gasping in a girlish voice and wiggling my ass against the stinging. "Four! I'm very sorry sir!

"With the next one, I want you to also tell Brian why you are sorry," Laura said.

"Yes Ms."

She whistled the cane through the air behind me without connecting, and I gasped. Steve giggled. I was utterly sunk, and complacent now: I had lost every hope. The only thing I could do was to obey. I held Brian's gaze meekly.

CRACK! 

"Oooooooh, five! Five!" I repeated, desperate with the stinging in my ass. "I'm sorry for looking at you and Cindy, Sir, I'm very sorry sir!"

"Since it's Brian you offended, I think Brian should do the honors. Why don't you ask Brian to complete your punishment for you?" Laura asked sweetly and reasonably. Steve guffawed, and Cindy looked at Brian with curiosity. Brian made no reaction but continued to hold me in a lazy and superior gaze. He raised one eyebrow then, waiting for me to ask.

I was utterly humbled. "Please sir, would you complete my punishment, sir?" I whispered. 

"Speak up" Laura barked, "Let him know you are sincere."

I looked up again into Brian's eyes, and spoke more clearly. I could not help but glance at Cindy's eyes, for an instant, and I saw in them a cruel and curious light. "Please sir, please punish me for looking at Cindy and you when you were trying to get to know each other."

Brian stood and rolled up his sleeves. He leaned down and gave Cindy a kiss, and she answered this kiss. He then walked behind me. 

"Have fun," Laura said, as she handed him the cane, and went to sit down beside Steve. I was facing Cindy, and Laura and Steve were to my left. I tried to look into Cindy's eyes, but she was exchanging a joking smile with Brian, who was doing something amusing, I couldn't tell what, behind me. The cane whooshed a few times behind me without impacting. Brian seemed to be having fun. Cindy hardly glanced at me. Instead, she was watching Brian, sharing a joke with him. I felt nauseous as I realized that seeing Brian in a masterful position made him more attractive to her on a primal level.

CRACK!

The cane landed and it was much harder than what I had received from Laura: this stroke had been delivered by a man. I jumped up and danced in a circle, clutching my burning ass and saying "ow ow ow."

"Down," Brian ordered calmly.

I resumed position and squeaked meekly "Six, thank you sir."

I was breathing heavily, shocked by how much stronger Brian's blows were. My heart was beating in fear. Cindy was watching me again now, curled up comfortably on the sofa, her chin smug, and her lip curling in distaste.

"Why are you here," Brian asked calmly, reasonably. I watched Cindy as I spoke.

"I love Cindy, I absolutely love Cindy, and I know she could never love me." She raised her eyebrows as if to express 'you are stating the obvious' and nodded in agreement. "But I don't expect her to love me. Of course she will want a handsome man like you sir." Cindy looked up at Brian and exchanged a bright smile with him. "I know I can never have Cindy, or be with Cindy, but I want to give my life to doing anything for her, to making her happy, to making her live like a queen, because she is perfect, she is a queen." Cindy was looking at me again, with a bored and weary expression. Her eyes met mine, but there was no recognition in them, it was as though she were looking at an object. No one spoke, and a blow did not land, so I continued. "I would do anything for Cindy. I would jump out the window if she told me to."

"Jump out if you want," Cindy said coldly.

"I don't want to jump out, but I would if you told me to."

"Hao, Hao," -- good, good -- "jump out," she said wearily.

I would do this. No one said anything so I went over to the window and opened it. Laura said, "Cindy, careful." I put one foot over the window sill, and still Cindy said nothing. I looked down at the pavement nine floors below, and thought, so this is it. How could she be so cruel?

"Cindy, please," Laura said.

"Ok, don't jump," Cindy said with perhaps a touch of reluctance.

I stopped, and pulled my leg back into the room. I turned back to face them. 

"You're not finished yet," Brian said, and tapped the chair with the cane. I felt that I had won a very small victory. I came back and resumed my position. Brian lifted my skirt onto the small of my back with the tip of the cane. I looked at Cindy again, and she did not seem smug, or cruel, but slightly concerned for me. I would obey her forever.

"What kind of man do you go for Cindy?" Laura asked.

Cindy grinned again, and looked up at Brian behind me. "I like manly man," she said, "man who knows how to be master."

"Do you know any man like that, sissy?" Laura asked, addressing me. I looked down, deflated again. "Brian is like that, Ms," I replied in my little girl's voice. When I looked up again, Cindy's expression was again smug and cruel.

"Does that make you jealous?" Laura asked.

"Yes Ms, but I belong to Cindy, she doesn't belong to me. Anything that makes her happy is good."

CRACK!

I gasped, and rubbed my ass, but didn't straighten up. I choked down a gasp, and said "Seven, thank you sir."

"I don't need your blessing," Brian said with scorn. "What makes you think that Cindy's boyfriend would be happy with her having you around? Would you also serve her boy friend?"

"If Cindy asked me to I would: I would do anything Cindy asked me to."

Steve whispered to Laura, and then they both giggled. Laura sat up at the edge of the sofa and asked me: "Would you suck cock."

I looked down in horror. Laura was showing more initiative. I whispered, "Yes Ms, if Cindy asked me to."

Everyone laughed. Cindy sat up a bit and looked puzzled. "Shema yisi" -- what does it mean, she asked in her richest, most humorous voice.

Laura went and sat beside Cindy, and whispered in her ear. Cindy stuck out her tongue and made a playful retching sound. "Disgusting!"

Laura hugged Cindy closely and pleaded "Oh please Cindy! Please, I would love to see that." I knew that Cindy was very susceptible to Laura's influence, but I did not imagine she could agree to this, and I would only consider debasing myself in this way if Cindy asked me to.

"Come on Cindy, be a sport," Steve urged. Brian was chuckling behind me. Cindy was looking at Laura with hesitant eyes, and lips curled in distaste. She looked up at Brian behind me, and then smiled broadly, revealing her exquisite dimples. "Ok," she said to everyone, and then she looked directly at me with a firm and defiant gaze. "I want you suck cock."

I was so shocked to hear this. In my wildest dreams I could not have imagined this happening. I held her eyes, and tried to open my soul to her. She met my eyes, and held them sneeringly. I was her property, "I belong to you. I will do it."

The other three cheered and laughed. "Thank you, Cindy," Laura said, and kissed her on the cheek. "I owe you one."

"So will I call Jared?" Steve asked Laura, "I'm sure he'd love to get his cock sucked." 

"Call him," Laura said.

I hung my head and looked at the floor.

"Jared! What's up. . .Listen, how would you like to get you're pole smoked by a little tranny bitch. . .Right now. . . here at Laura's place."

I watched Cindy, feet. They were still.

"Yes, Right now. . . See you soon. . . You'll have a great time, I promise. . . Later."

"Fantastic!" Laura enthused, and hugged Cindy again. Brian, you better finish that up so we can get our little whore ready for his date.

"Ok, last two. You call out the number, and then say thank you Cindy for the opportunity to suck cock." I looked up at Cindy, and at Laura gloating beside her. Cindy was smiling at Brian, and when she glanced at me it was as though she were looking at a thing.

Crack!

"Ow, ow, Eight sir, thank you sir, thank you Cindy for giving me the opportunity to suck cock." She stared at me but did not acknowledge me. 

Crack!

It was the hardest one yet and I stood and danced clasping my ass. They all laughed heartily at my antics, even Cindy. Tears began to course down my cheeks. I got back into position, looked at Cindy, and said meekly, while sobbing gently, "Nine, thank you sir. Thank you Cindy for the opportunity to suck cock."

Cindy looked at me coldly and said "You're welcome."

"Why don't you take the last one, Cindy," Brian said. 

"No," Cindy said very firmly.

"Come on Cindy, please," Laura said.

Cindy smiled at Laura, and shook her head, no. "That's what he wants," Cindy said wisely.

"How about you Steve, would you take the last one?" Brian asked.

"My pleasure," Steve said, standing up and walking behind Peter. Brian went and sat on the sofa beside Cindy again, and put her arm over her shoulder. 

The pain of the cane was terrible, especially when wielded by a man. The pain, the fear, the unbearable shame; suddenly I felt as if I was outside of myself, as if I was watching myself. 

Peter cringed, as Steve made the cane whistle in the air behind him several times. Brian and Cindy were exchanging smiles with Steve. 

Suddenly, the cane connected with Peter's ass in a mighty crack that landed across the tops of his thighs. Peter began dancing around in a circle rubbing his ass, and saying "ow ow ow ow!

"Manners," Laura said strictly, and slave turned to Steve, still clutching at his own ass, and said "thank you sir."

Peter glanced at Cindy, and her cheeks were flushed, as though with sexual delight, and there was a secretive look in her eye. 

Steve went and sat down, and Laura came and stood in front of Peter. His skirt was hiked up around his waist, and he was rubbing his ass. His tears had made his makeup run, and his face was beetroot. His panties were down in the back, and the rear clips of his garters had come undone from his stockings. His cock was hard, poking up from under the white panties, which now covered only his balls and about an inch of the root of the cock. As his eyes passed over Cindy, he noticed her looking at his cock secretively, and her cheeks were pink and flushed. Peter also saw that Brian had noticed where Cindy was looking, and Brian gave him a hard, sneering look.

"Look at the state of you," Laura said, and his eyes went down to her feet. "Stop sniveling and pull up your panties. Fix your skirt and refasten your garters."

As Peter pulled up the rear of his panties, he heard Cindy asking Brian "what is sniveling?" and Brian explaining the meaning of this word to her in Chinese. Peter tugged down his skirt, and reached around to fasten the clips of his garters. As he did this, he saw the painful red welts across his ass and thighs. He heard Cindy telling Brian in Chinese that his Chinese was very good. Her voice was soft, rich and flirtatious: how Peter wished that she would speak to him in this way! 

"When will Jared be here?" Laura asked Steve, as Peter fumbled at refastening his garters to his stockings.

"Should be about half an hour."

"Ok princess, let's go and get you ready for your date," she said, taking Peter by the ear lobe and leading him out of the room and into her bedroom. Peter stumbled after her, trying his best to walk in the way Laura had told him to walk, not wanting to give her any excuse to correct him again. Peter heard Steve laughing behind him as he followed Laura out of the room, led by the ear. They entered the room, and Laura closed the door behind them.

Laura spoke to Peter in curt commands as she prepared him for his date. She fixed his makeup, and then she ordered him to strip down to just his panties and stockings. She put a stiff white corset on him, and stood behind him to tighten this with laces. She ordered him to attach the straps from the corset to his stockings. The corset had pre-formed tits, and she filled these spaces with panties and socks, so that it seemed as though he had tits. She put a pink shawl over his shoulders, so that the too obvious falseness of the tits was hidden. She had him put on a very short, flared pink skirt. She took off his blond bob wig, and replaced this with a curly big blond wig. She had him step into high heeled white sandals. She stepped back and examined him, still saying nothing, still looking at him coldly. She roughly fastened a leather collar around his neck, and connected a leash to this.




Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 02



"Lads!" Laura said and hugged each man, and Cindy stood a little bit behind her. "This is Cindy. Cindy, this is Steve."

Steve stepped forward and gave Cindy a hug, and a kiss on the cheek, and said "Hey Cindy. I've heard a lot about you."

"I've heard a lot about you too," Cindy replied. She was blushing from the peck on the cheek. She was using a different, softer and more careful voice than normal, one that until now I had only heard her use when she spoke with business leaders.

"And this delicious thing is Brian." Brian stepped forward and politely shook Cindy's hand. "A pleasure," he said, looking her straight in the eyes.

"What do you think? Is she as gorgeous as I said?" Laura asked.

"Delightful," said Brian.

Cindy looked down shyly, and pursed her full lips. Her cheeks were flushed. 

"Very beautiful," said Brian sincerely.

"Thank you," Cindy said modestly, looking up now to meet his eyes.

"And Cindy, is Brian as handsome as in his photos?"

"More handsome," said Cindy in a quiet voice that was not like her.

I felt a knot tighten inside me. What had I done? I glanced up to see the men. They were handsome and likeable young men. They were about 27, the same age as the girls. They were dressed smartly, in dark jackets and light shirts. Of course any woman would be impressed by them. And what was I? I was a slightly ugly, wrinkled forty five year old man standing dressed as a maid, ready to speak in a little girl's voice. I was nothing. I was less than nothing.

Brian caught me glancing at him, and I looked down quickly, but too late. He strolled toward me leisurely. All eyes were on me. "So Cindy, I guess this must be your boss?"

"Yes, that's my boss," she chuckled.

They all observed silently as Brian stood squarely in front of me. I continued looking down at my feet, and now at his feet too. Cindy was watching us both and I had no doubt which of us she found more attractive. Brian looked me up and down, saying nothing. I could only imagine the expression he wore. Laura approached and said "Peter, this is Brian."

I curtsied and said as quietly as possible "Nice to meet you sir."

"That's awful! Where are your manners? Look at a guest when you greet him, and speak up!" Laura commanded.

I looked into Brian's dark, taunting eyes and said more loudly, in my little girl's voice, "Nice to meet you sir."

"LOUDER" Laura insisted.

"Nice to meet you, sir." I didn't dare to look away. He was so handsome, and I felt so ugly. He just grinned with his Clooney eyes at me and held my gaze. I could see Cindy watching, with arms crossed up under her full breasts, from the periphery of my vision. Brian chuckled, "Nice to meet you too buddy, nice to meet you too."

"And this is Steve." I turned to face Steve, met his gaze, curtsied and said clearly in my feminine falsetto: "Nice to meet you, sir." He was standing beside Cindy, and she was smiling and amused, like the others, exchanging astonished, ironic glances, and looking right through me as though I was nothing. I was not in on the joke: I was the joke.

"Manners!" Laura reminded. "Approach your guests when you greet them."

I took a few steps toward Steve, and repeated my greeting. He was not as handsome as Brian, but he clearly was the funny one. Cindy was right beside him, and I could not avoid being caught by her amused eyes. There was nowhere to hide. My cock strained against the panties. He just laughed at me. "My god, dude, what are you wearing?" I started to stammer a reply but he waved his hand at me "Don't answer that." Everyone laughed, not so much at what he had said as at his comically dismissive gesture. I could pick Cindy's laugh out from the others, but she was one of them, and I was not. I despaired that I had utterly lost her now; that there would never again be a chance for me to win her affection: this despair drove to a fever pitch my need to serve and to worship her. To worship and to serve Cindy was the only thing in the world that I wanted.

"Have a seat guys," Laura said warmly. Laura and Steve sat together, and Cindy sat close to Brian. "Make us some popcorn," she said to me shortly.

"Yes Ms" I curtsied, and went toward the kitchen.

"WALK! I'm not going to say that again! Next time you will go home! Get back here and do it again!"

All four watched incredulously as I wiggled my hips and minced back to where I had been standing, and said "Yes Ms," in a tiny little girl's voice, and then minced back to the kitchen. No one said anything throughout this performance. As I entered the kitchen, I heard Brian ask loudly "What is that guy's malfunction?"

"Don't worry about him," Laura said, "It's what makes him happy. You have two sexy girls in the room. Don't you think you should be focusing on something else?"

They changed the topic, and engaged in small talk, getting to know one another. By the time I returned with the microwave popcorn, they had for the most part paired off. Laura and Steve were flirting overtly, poking and pulling at one another, and Cindy and Brian were sitting close to one another, speaking quietly about themselves. Brian's arm was up on the back of the sofa, and Cindy's knees were up on the pillows, and she was facing squarely towards him. No one looked up at me as I put the popcorn down, curtsied, and took a few steps back, not sure what to do. I held my index finger and looked at my feet. As no one said anything I moved to against the wall, and simply stood there, awaiting instruction. After several minutes my legs were tired and I felt restless and I shifted my weight from foot to foot. Cindy and Brian seemed to be getting along very well. Brian was quiet, polite, understanding and mature. Cindy was quiet and tender, and I felt that this was just the type of man that appealed to her. What had I done! My heart bled with jealousy as I stood there uncomfortably shifting from foot to foot, unnoticed and utterly superfluous.

I could not help but gaze up on occasion to see what was going on between Cindy and Brian. He was speaking to her in a deep and sonorous voice, and she was listening closely, gazing from his eyes to his lips. He had his hand on her knee and she did not seem to notice.

"That's enough of that!" Laura barked, and I looked down, hoping it had not been directed at me. As she approached me, I knew my hopes were in vain. I felt a sharp pain as she took me by the earlobe, pulled my head down so I was stooped over, and led me over to where Brian and Cindy were seated. I was in shock from the sudden breaking of my meditation. She held my ear so that I was bent over facing Cindy and Brian. They had straightened up and were looking at me. They also seemed confused about what had set Laura off.

When dreaming of this event, I had thought that Cindy would be too shy to look at me in this situation: now I realized that I had been a vain fool to think this. Why should she be ashamed? Her cheeks were flushed but her jaw was forward defiantly, proudly, as if to say, 'this is what you want, this is what you get.' She was looking straight into my eyes, part in scorn, and part in indifference. Brian was looking at me impatiently. He did not seem happy to have to have been interrupted. He used the opportunity however to let his arm sink from the back of the coach to over Cindy's shoulders. I was stupid enough to feel surprised that she did not resist the liberty he had taken. It had never been that she was too pure; it was just that she didn't want me! 

Laura intoned regally: "Now I want you to apologize to Brian and Cindy." My heart was in my throat and I gasped "for what?" She let loose with five solid barehanded swats to my ass, pulling my ear lower as she did so. I squirmed and wriggled in shock. Cindy, Brian and Steve erupted in laughter. 

"Brian and Cindy are trying to get to know one another, and they don't want your ugly mug mooning over at them the whole time." She let go of my ear. "Go and get that chair, she commanded, pointing at straight backed wooden chair at the dining table. "Bring it here."

I went to get the chair. "WALK! Goddamn it you are thick! Here. Other way!"

She had me place the straight backed chair with the seat facing Cindy and Brian. "Bend over. Hold onto the seat." I bent over the back of the chair and held onto the seat in front of me, my head and face toward Cindy and Brian. I hung my head in shame. "Head up. If you are sincere you look in someone's eyes when you apologize." I looked up into the onslaught of their gazes. Cindy and Brian had become more comfortable in preparing for the show that seemed to be coming. They both sat facing me, their backs sunk into the sofa. Brian's arm was over Cindy's shoulder, and she had moved in close to him, with her head beside his shoulder. I noticed, with a stab of pain in my heart, that her hand rested high up on his thigh. They seemed to be such a good couple: two young beautiful people so suited to one another. They looked at me coldly: I was only a disturbance, intruding on their privacy, but they were willing to witness the show that Laura was about to put on. 

In one sudden movement I felt my panties pulled down to under my ass cheeks, and my skirt thrown up over my arched back. Cindy humph-ed, and moved in more closely to Colin, holding my eyes with a steely gaze. My big white ass bulged out obscene, vulnerable and comic.

Laura rested her hand on my back and addressed Cindy. "Do you feel comfortable with Peter staring at you and Brian?" Cindy looked over my head at Laura behind me, and curled her lip in disdain. "Disgusting," she said flatly and finally. "Absolutely no."

I groaned softly, and felt tears well up in my eyes.

Laura walked away to the far side of the room, fumbled in a drawer, and began to walk back toward me from behind. Cindy's eyes lit up at Laura behind me, and they exchanged a giggle. Brian looked from Laura to me with a bored expression. 

Suddenly, I heard the whistle of a cane, and felt the wind of it's passing behind my buttocks. I closed my eyes and sighed in despair. 

"Oh yeah baby: you look hot," Brian encouraged Laura, "give it to him."

When I opened my eyes, Cindy eyes were fixed on mine coldly, her jaw set proudly in a smirk. With her eyes, she let me know that there could be no doubt about who should be uncomfortable with the proceedings, and it was not her. Siddhartha eyes, that looked at me without seeing me. She reached up and stroked Collin's chest, her eyes burning into mine defiantly. Brian sat stiff and proud, his handsome lip curled in disdain. He stroked Cindy's elbow, and pulled her into him more closely. I began to tremble.

The first crack landed and I let out a masculine gasp. Three more landed in quick succession, and as I danced around holding my ass, the others erupted in laughter, and Laura scolded "Voice! Voice! Back down, or walk out that door this minute!" I stopped rubbing at the urgent stinging of my ass and bent back down over the back of the chair, and took a hold of the front of the seat. I flinched as the cane whistled through the air again behind me, and I caught Cindy and Brian meet eyes and smirk. Their lips were inches apart. My punishment seemed to be causing them some arousal, though they may not have known it.

"Voice. Remember the voice. After each stroke I want you to tell Brian that you are sorry for gawking at his date." Brian grinned, gaining interest in what was to come. He pulled Cindy in to him, and she stared straight at me, with a look of contempt so powerful that I could not help but whisper: "I love you Cindy, all of this is to show you how I love. . ." Before I'd completed the cane rained down again upon my naked ass, until I grabbed at my burning cheeks and danced on the spot pleading again and again "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Voice! Voice! Bend over! Count and tell Brian how sorry you are! And where is the 'yes Ms?"'

I was completely flustered, and I bent over and grasped the front seat of the chair. I said "yes Ms," desperately, in a small girl's voice.

"Look at Brian! You need to be sincere. There will be ten. Remember, voice, or we start again."

I looked up into Brian's eyes. He was who I wanted to be and where I wanted to be. How could life be so unfair! He held everything that I valued in this world in his arm. I was nothing to him: I was nothing to her. 

Cindy surprised me by kissing him tenderly on the cheek. I could not believe she had done this: I could not believe that she had this cruelty in her. She must have known what this meant to me. I would have died a thousand deaths for one kiss on the cheek from her lips. So little for her to give: so impossible for me to receive.

I felt the cane touch my ass, measuring its distance. I let Brain hold me in his calm, indifferent, masterful gaze. I surrendered, sincerely. Cindy looked on in amusement, her cheeks flushed, exchanging glances and grins with Laura behind me. Suddenly, there was a searing pain across my ass, and I squeaked girlishly and threw back my head, then quickly relocated Brian's Clooney eyes and cried out sincerely in my most girly voice: "One! I'm very sorry, sir!" 

I settled back down and then, again. Another hot shock of pain, and I wiggled, then re found Brian's gaze and submitted urgently: "Two! Very sorry Sir!" Steve was in hysterics, and even the po-faced Brian was chuckling now, as he held my Cindy to his chest smugly. Cindy was comfortable, and watching my face with quiet and catlike indifference. There was nothing in the world for me but her. There was nothing I would not do to be near her. She was absolutely perfect; every inch of her was perfect.

Another crack! I almost straightened then sank back and whimpered: "Three, I 'm very sorry, sir."

"Down!" Laura commanded, and I arched my back lower and thrust up my burning white buttocks to receive more punishment. I felt the cane stroke my cheeks tenderly, and Cindy and Brian smiled over my head at Laura behind me, as I strained my neck painfully to submit to Brian's gaze. Now, I felt an unbelievable peace begin to swell in my heart. I looked at Cindy and whispered: "I love you."

Cindy held my eyes, and shook her head slowly to say no. Siddhartha eyes. Tears began to well up in my eyes, and then a swoosh and a crack left me gasping in a girly voice and wiggling my ass against the stinging. "Four! I'm very sorry sir!

"With the next one, I want you to also tell Brian why you are sorry," Laura said.

"Yes Ms."

She whistled the cane through the air behind me without connecting, and I gasped. Steve giggled. I was utterly sunk, and complacent now: I had lost every hope. The only thing I could do was to obey. I held Brian's gaze meekly.

CRACK! 

"Oooooooh, five! Five!" I repeated, desperate with the stinging in my ass. "I'm sorry for looking at you and Cindy, Sir, I'm very sorry sir!"

"Since it's Brian you offended, I think Brian should do the honors. Why don't you ask Brian to complete your punishment for you?" Laura asked sweetly and reasonably. Steve guffawed, and Cindy looked at Brian with curiosity. Brian made no reaction but continued to hold me in a lazy and superior gaze. He raised one eyebrow then, waiting for me to ask.

I was utterly humbled. "Please sir, would you complete my punishment, sir?" I whispered. 

"Speak up" Laura barked, "Let him know you are sincere."

I looked up again into Brian's eyes, and spoke more clearly. I could not help but glance at Cindy's eyes, for an instant, and I saw in them a cruel and curious light. "Please sir, please punish me for looking at Cindy and you when you were trying to get to know each other."

Brian stood and rolled up his sleeves. He leaned down and gave Cindy a kiss, and she answered this kiss. He then walked behind me. 

"Have fun," Laura said, as she handed him the cane, and went to sit down beside Steve. I was facing Cindy, and Laura and Steve were to my left. I tried to look into Cindy's eyes, but she was exchanging a joking smile with Brian, who was doing something amusing, I couldn't tell what, behind me. The cane whooshed a few times behind me without impacting. Brian seemed to be having fun. Cindy hardly glanced at me. Instead, she was watching Brian, sharing a joke with him. I felt nauseous as I realized that seeing Brian in a masterful position made him more attractive to her on a primal level.

CRACK!

The cane landed and it was much harder than what I had received from Laura: this stroke had been delivered by a man. I jumped up and danced in a circle, clutching my burning ass and saying "ow ow ow."

"Down," Brian ordered calmly.

I resumed position and squeaked meekly "Six, thank you sir."

I was breathing heavily, shocked by how much stronger Brian's blows were. My heart was beating in fear. Cindy was watching me again now, curled up comfortably on the sofa, her chin smug, and her lip curling in distaste.

"Why are you here," Brian asked calmly, reasonably. I watched Cindy as I spoke.

"I love Cindy, I absolutely love Cindy, and I know she could never love me." She raised her eyebrows as if to express 'you are stating the obvious' and nodded in agreement. "But I don't expect her to love me. Of course she will want a handsome man like you sir." Cindy looked up at Brian and exchanged a bright smile with him. "I know I can never have Cindy, or be with Cindy, but I want to give my life to doing anything for her, to making her happy, to making her live like a queen, because she is perfect, she is a queen." Cindy was looking at me again, with a bored and weary expression. Her eyes met mine, but there was no recognition in them, it was as though she were looking at an object. No one spoke, and a blow did not land, so I continued. "I would do anything for Cindy. I would jump out the window if she told me to."

"Jump out if you want," Cindy said coldly.

"I don't want to jump out, but I would if you told me to."

"Hao, Hao," – good, good – "jump out," she said wearily.

I would do this. No one said anything so I went over to the window and opened it. Laura said, "Cindy, careful." I put one foot over the window sill, and still Cindy said nothing. I looked down at the pavement nine floors below, and thought, so this is it. How could she be so cruel?

"Cindy, please," Laura said.

"OK, don't jump," Cindy said with perhaps a touch of reluctance.

I stopped, and pulled my leg back into the room. I turned back to face them. 

"You're not finished yet," Brian said, and tapped the chair with the cane. I felt that I had won a very small victory. I came back and resumed my position. Brian lifted my skirt onto the small of my back with the tip of the cane. I looked at Cindy again, and she did not seem smug, or cruel, but slightly concerned for me. I would obey her forever.

"What kind of man do you go for Cindy?" Laura asked.

Cindy grinned again, and looked up at Brian behind me. "I like manly man," she said, "man who knows how to be master."

"Do you know any man like that, sissy?" Laura asked, addressing me. I looked down, deflated again. "Brian is like that, Ms," I replied in my little girl's voice. When I looked up again, Cindy's expression was again smug and cruel.

"Does that make you jealous?" Laura asked.

"Yes Ms, but I belong to Cindy, she doesn't belong to me. Anything that makes her happy is good."

CRACK!

I gasped, and rubbed my ass, but didn't straighten up. I choked down a gasp, and said "Seven, thank you sir."

"I don't need your blessing," Brian said with scorn. "What makes you think that Cindy's boyfriend would be happy with her having you around? Would you also serve her boy friend?"

"If Cindy asked me to I would: I would do anything Cindy asked me to."

Steve whispered to Laura, and then they both giggled. Laura sat up at the edge of the sofa and asked me: "Would you suck cock."




Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 02



I looked down in horror. Laura was showing more initiative. I whispered, "Yes Ms, if Cindy asked me to."

Everyone laughed. Cindy sat up a bit and looked puzzled. "Shema yisi" -- what does it mean, she asked in her richest, most humorous voice.

Laura went and sat beside Cindy, and whispered in her ear. Cindy stuck out her tongue and made a playful retching sound. "Disgusting!"

Laura hugged Cindy closely and pleaded "Oh please Cindy! Please, I would love to see that." I knew that Cindy was very susceptible to Laura's influence, but I did not imagine she could agree to this, and I would only consider debasing myself in this way if Cindy asked me to.

"Come on Cindy, be a sport," Steve urged. Brian was chuckling behind me. Cindy was looking at Laura with hesitant eyes, and lips curled in distaste. She looked up at Brian behind me, and then smiled broadly, revealing her exquisite dimples. "OK," she said to everyone, and then she looked directly at me with a firm and defiant gaze. "I want you suck cock."

I was so shocked to hear this. In my wildest dreams I could not have imagined this happening. I held her eyes, and tried to open my soul to her. She met my eyes, and held them sneeringly. I was her property, "I belong to you. I will do it."

The other three cheered and laughed. "Thank you, Cindy," Laura said, and kissed her on the cheek. "I owe you one."

"So will I call Jared?" Steve asked Laura, "I'm sure he'd love to get his cock sucked." 

"Call him," Laura said.

I hung my head and looked at the floor.

"Jared! What's up. . .Listen, how would you like to get you're pole smoked by a little tranny bitch. . .Right now. . . here at Laura's place."

I watched Cindy, feet. They were still.

"Yes, Right now. . . See you soon. . . You'll have a great time, I promise. . . Later."

"Fantastic!" Laura enthused, and hugged Cindy again. Brian, you better finish that up so we can get our little whore ready for his date.

"Ok, last two. You call out the number, and then say thank you Cindy for the opportunity to suck cock." I looked up at Cindy, and at Laura gloating beside her. Cindy was smiling at Brian, and when she glanced at me it was as though she were looking at a thing.

Crack!

"Ow, ow, Eight sir, thank you sir, thank you Cindy for giving me the opportunity to suck cock." She stared at me but did not acknowledge me. 

Crack!

It was the hardest one yet and I stood and danced clasping my ass. They all laughed heartily at my antics, even Cindy. Tears began to course down my cheeks. I got back into position, looked at Cindy, and said meekly, while sobbing gently, "Nine, thank you sir. Thank you Cindy for the opportunity to suck cock."

Cindy looked at me coldly and said "You're welcome."

"Why don't you take the last one, Cindy," Brian said. 

"No," Cindy said very firmly.

"Come on Cindy, please," Laura said.

Cindy smiled at Laura, and shook her head, no. "That's what he wants," Cindy said wisely.

"How about you Steve, would you take the last one?" Brian asked.

"My pleasure," Steve said, standing up and walking behind Peter. Brian went and sat on the sofa beside Cindy again, and put her arm over her shoulder. 

The pain of the cane was terrible, especially when wielded by a man. The pain, the fear, the unbearable shame; suddenly I felt as if I was outside of myself, as if I was watching myself. 

Peter cringed, as Steve made the cane whistle in the air behind him several times. Brian and Cindy were exchanging smiles with Steve. 

Suddenly, the cane connected with Peter's ass in a mighty crack that landed across the tops of his thighs. Peter began dancing around in a circle rubbing his ass, and saying "ow ow ow ow!

"Manners," Laura said strictly, and slave turned to Steve, still clutching at his own ass, and said "thank you sir."

Peter glanced at Cindy, and her cheeks were flushed, as though with sexual delight, and there was a secretive look in her eye. 

Steve went and sat down, and Laura came and stood in front of Peter. His skirt was hiked up around his waist, and he was rubbing his ass. His tears had made his makeup run, and his face was beetroot. His panties were down in the back, and the rear clips of his garters had come undone from his stockings. His cock was hard, poking up from under the white panties, which now covered only his balls and about an inch of the root of the cock. As his eyes passed over Cindy, he noticed her looking at his cock secretively, and her cheeks were pink and flushed. Peter also saw that Brian had noticed where Cindy was looking, and Brian gave him a hard, sneering look.

"Look at the state of you," Laura said, and his eyes went down to her feet. "Stop sniveling and pull up your panties. Fix your skirt and refasten your garters."

As Peter pulled up the rear of his panties, he heard Cindy asking Brian "what is sniveling?" and Brian explaining the meaning of this word to her in Chinese. Peter tugged down his skirt, and reached around to fasten the clips of his garters. As he did this, he saw the painful red welts across his ass and thighs. He heard Cindy telling Brian in Chinese that his Chinese was very good. Her voice was soft, rich and flirtatious: how Peter wished that she would speak to him in this way! 

"When will Jared be here?" Laura asked Steve, as Peter fumbled at refastening his garters to his stockings.

"Should be about half an hour."

"Ok princess, let's go and get you ready for your date," she said, taking Peter by the ear lobe and leading him out of the room and into her bedroom. Peter stumbled after her, trying his best to walk in the way Laura had told him to walk, not wanting to give her any excuse to correct him again. Peter heard Steve laughing behind him as he followed Laura out of the room, led by the ear. They entered the room, and Laura closed the door behind them.

Laura spoke to Peter in curt commands as she prepared him for his date. She fixed his makeup, and then she ordered him to strip down to just his panties and stockings. She put a stiff white corset on him, and stood behind him to tighten this with laces. She ordered him to attach the straps from the corset to his stockings. The corset had pre-formed tits, and she filled these spaces with panties and socks, so that it seemed as though he had tits. She put a pink shawl over his shoulders, so that the too obvious falseness of the tits was hidden. She had him put on a very short, flared pink skirt. She took off his blond bob wig, and replaced this with a curly big blond wig. She had him step into high heeled white sandals. She stepped back and examined him, still saying nothing, still looking at him coldly. She roughly fastened a leather collar around his neck, and connected a leash to this.

At last, she looked at him in the eyes, and said "Are you ready to get your mouth fucked?"

"For Cindy, yes, I will do anything."

"Faggot," she said scornfully, then took the leash, tugged it roughly, causing him to scurry forward awkwardly on the white high heels, opened the door, and led him back out into the main room where the others sat.

Cindy, Brian and Steve stopped talking and looked up at Peter as Laura led him to the center of the room. Cindy could not help letting out a snort, and then a giggle of shock and amusement.

"Oh, charming!" Steve said.

Peter stood looking down in shame as Laura held his lead. "Manners," Laura said threateningly.

Peter curtsied to Steve, looked into his grinning eyes, and said, "Thank you, sir."

Laura had him walk three times around her at the length of the leash, and then had him sit down on the small sofa that faced the other two sofas across the room. He sat uncomfortably at the edge of the sofa, with his knees together and his hands on his knees. The others sat grinning at him, and Brian and Cindy spoke quietly in Chinese that he could not understand, while Laura freshened their drinks, and placed sunflower seed and nuts on the coffee table in front of their two sofas.

Steve's phone rang, and he answered it. "Yo, Jared, where are you?" There was a response, and then Steve said, "Maybe Cindy can speak to the driver. Cindy?" He handed her the phone.

"Wei?" she said into the phone, and then she spoke to the driver in Chinese, giving directions.

"Hi Jared." She said sweetly. "Yes, this is Cindy." She giggled, and smiled at Brian. "Not so pretty I think . . . yes, Laura's clothes. Laura dress him . . . Peter looking forward to meet you too. . . Sorry, I don't know what that means. . . OK, I ask them . . . See you soon."

With a radiant smile, she passed the phone back to Steve. "What is 'swallow'?" Cindy asked innocently. Laura and Steve chuckled, and Brian explained in Chinese. Cindy made a cute, disgusted face, curling her lip, and sticking out her tongue. The others laughed, admiring her innocence. 

Having to sit here like this was the most humiliating thing for Peter so far. He wished that he had been asked to kneel in a corner instead, as sitting here like this made it seem as though the clothes he wore, and the situation he was in, were somehow normal. The others spoke amongst themselves about how Brian had met Jared, and the crazy times they had had together.  They just glanced at him occasionally, but Cindy did not look at him at all. He had learned his lesson, and he tried not to look over at Cindy, but instead stared down at his own white stockings, and his hands on his knees. When he could not resist a glance at her, he noticed that she was eating sunflower seeds, and spitting the shells into her palm. He always felt that she looked so lovely when she ate sunflower seeds, as it revealed the beauty of her animated mouth. He dared not admire this wondrous sight now.

Peter felt the butterflies in his stomach rollick more and more rampantly. He did not feel aroused; there was sourness in his guts from nerves. He could not believe that what was happening here was real. He had always dreamed of this, of giving himself up to Cindy completely, but now that it was happening he felt that the reality was more of a nightmare. He comforted himself by sneaking glances at Cindy's shoes, and listening to the music of her voice, letting himself drift along its silken vibrations, as though it were a summer stream. As much as possible, he resisted glancing at her moving lips and teeth as she cracked sunflower seeds, and spat the shells into her palm.



Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 03



He heard the elevator open, and a shock of fear entered him that was so strong as to make him feel nauseous. He prayed that the passenger of the elevator would go to another door, and then there was a forceful knock at the door. Peter wanted to disappear, to crawl up into nothingness. He really didn't want to suck a cock. He couldn't imagine doing this. He looked down at his hands on his stockings, as Laura went to get the door, and the others stood to greet Jared.

Brian and Steve shook hands with Jared, and Laura kissed him on one cheek. Cindy let him take her hand gently, and she said "Nice to meet you." Jared was a short, fat Arab guy with a receding hairline. He wore tight jeans, and his shirt was unbuttoned to reveal a hairy chest and a gold chain. Peter could smell Jared's sickly sweet cologne from where he sat on the edge of the sofa on the other side of the room, praying in vain to somehow not be noticed.

"And this is Peter?" Jared asked, strolling over to where Peter sat, "I hear so much about you."

"Get up and introduce yourself to your date," Laura warned.

Peter stood up in front of Jared, curtsied, and said "It's nice to meet you, sir."

The others sat back down, as Jared looked Peter up and down. "Nice to meet you too, darling," Jared said as he stepped closer to Peter, and reached out to rub Peter's soft cock and balls gently from under his skirt. Peter closed his eyes and grimaced.

"Don't be afraid, darling, I don't hurt you," Jared said, continuing to rub Peter's balls, and moving yet closer to reach around with the other hand and squeeze Peter's ass. Peter felt his knees were weak, and he might have collapsed had Jared's hands on his ass and balls not held him upright. Peter could not bear the smell of Jared's cologne, and he tried to breathe only through his mouth. Against his wishes, his cock began to stiffen under the firm but gentle rubbing of Jared's hand. It was not so much the rubbing of Jared's hand, as the fact that Cindy was cracking sunflower seeds across the room, and indifferently witnessing his disgrace. All of this for Cindy, Peter thought. He was breathing heavily, full of fear.

"Calm down, baby," Jared said soothingly. "What's this?" Jared said, feeling the welts on his ass, and turning him around.

"Show Jared where you were punished, and tell him why you were punished," Laura said. Peter turned his ass to Jared, lifted his skirt and bent over slightly at the waist. As he turned he faced the others at an angle. He did not want to look at them, but he noticed that they were all watching silently.

"I kept looking at Cindy and Brian, sir, and making them uncomfortable, so I was caned."

"Oh, poor baby," Jared said, sitting down on the sofa, and rubbing fingers between Peter's ass cheeks over his panties, pushing the material deep between his cheeks. "You have sexy ass, don't worry, I make you feel good."

"Have you asked your date if he'd like anything to drink?" Laura asked.

"Would you like anything to drink, sir," Peter asked Jared, who continued rubbing his ass from behind.

"No want, you sit beside me," Jared said. Peter turned and Jared was patting the sofa beside himself. Peter sat down meekly beside Jared. Jared ran his hands up and down Peter's thighs, stoking especially the smooth skin above the stocking tops. He whispered in Peter's ear, "You touch me," and moved Peter's hand over Jared's cock, which was very stiff under his jeans.

The others had been silent, and Peter kept his eyes closed as he stroked Jared's cock, and submitted to Jared's wandering hands, as he could not bear to see Cindy looking at him in the depths of his humiliation. After a minute or two, they seemed to direct their attention away from Peter and Jared, and Laura was talking about a movie. 

Jared had slipped Peter's panties beneath his balls, and was jacking him off, and Peter's cock was fully erect. He kept his eyes closed. He heard some stifled snickers from the others, and Cindy whisper "wo de tian na" – my god. Peter's cock became harder, and began to ooze pre cum. 

"I like you kiss my ear while you touch me," Jared whispered to Peter, and Peter, disgusted, began to lick his ear, while continuing to rub the stiff lump in his trousers. Peter wanted to wretch. Laura put on a movie, and dimmed the lights.

Jared was now grinding his hips, and whispering, "Oooh, yeh baby, you make me feel good." The others, hearing this, began to giggle quietly.

Jared asked Laura: "Is OK we go other room?"

"Of course, you can use that room," Laura said warmly, pointing. She paused the movie, and the others turned to watch as Jared stood, took Peter's leash gently and stood him up as well.

"Now Peter, you do a good job: remember you are doing this for Cindy," Laura said.

Peter curtsied and said "Yes, Ms."

He could not look at Cindy, but from the corner of his eye he saw Brian nudge her gently with his elbow.

Cindy said, in a jolly voice, "Give Jared happy ending. . ." she giggled, "and swallow." The others laughed and Peter curtsied to Cindy and said "Yes Cindy, I'll do it for you." He looked into Cindy's eyes. They were glimmering with wicked amusement, while her mouth expressed both contempt and resolve. Brian's hand was on her thigh.

"Can I use his ass too?" Jared asked.

"You'll have to ask Cindy," Laura replied.

"Shen ma yi si?" – what does it mean -- Cindy asked Brian.

Brian whispered a translation, and Cindy put on an expression of disgust. She asked Brian how to say "blow job" in English. Brian whispered "blow job" to her. She grinned at him, and crinkled her nose.

"Just blow job," she said to Jared. "Sorry."

"No problem, thank you, Cindy."

"My pleasure," Cindy said politely, "hope you enjoy," and the others grinned.

Peter turned and followed Jared, who led him by the lead to the room Laura had indicated. He walked the way Laura had instructed him to walk, as he was afraid of being chastised, and he fully recognized how vulnerable he was. Laura turned the movie back on.

Jared closed the door, and led Peter to the center of the room. He tugged down gently at the leash, and said, "You go down on your knees." Peter knelt down. He could not bear to look in Jared's face, so he kept his eyes on the lump in his trousers. "Sit on your hands. Lady should not use hands when she suck." Peter slid his hands between the cheeks of his ass and his ankles.

Jared undid his belt and his buttons, and unzipped his trousers. He pulled down his trousers and underpants, and tossed them to the side. He stepped closer to Peter's face, and his thick cock dangled half hard just in front of Peter's mouth. Beneath the cock were fat, hairy balls. Jared's cock, with its shiny head, and dark flesh, was so repulsive to Peter, that he wretched. He could not bear the thought of taking this object in his mouth.

"You suck."

Peter whimpered, closed his eyes, and did not move.

"Suck," Jared said more emphatically, "or I tell Cindy you don't make me happy."

Peter opened his mouth and took the loathsome flesh of Jared's cock head into his mouth. It was slippery, smooth and alien.

"Yes baby, nice. Suck."

Peter, his soul in agony, began to suck gently at the slowly swelling head of Jared's cock. 

"Mmmmm. It's nice," Jared said. He put his hand on the top of Peter's head, and slowly pushed the cock head deeper into Peter's mouth. Peter began to suck eagerly, hoping to make Jared cum as quickly as possible.

"Yes, good girl, suck me," Jared said, and pushed his cock head in more deeply. Peter gagged and pulled his head away. He put his hands up on Jared's hairy thighs to keep him away as he wretched again at the sight of the now erect cock standing up slick above the heavy, hairy balls.

"You bitch. You want I should go tell Cindy now?" he said.

"No, please don't, sir. I'll suck," Peter pleaded. 

Jared went over to a bedside table and came back with a pair of pink fluffy handcuffs. He went behind Peter and fastened his wrists behind his back. Peter whimpered, but did not resist. He loved Cindy so much, she was his goddess, and he needed her to know that he would do absolutely anything that she told him to.

Jared stepped in front of Peter again. He rubbed just beneath his own cock head with two fingers and a thumb. He said, suck my balls. Peter, hands cuffed behind his back, leaned forward, let out a timid tongue, and licked at the fat hairy balls. He wretched again, but quickly went back to licking Jared's balls.

"Nice. That's nice," Jared said as Peter licked underneath his balls. "Take them in your mouth now and suck." Peter took the big balls in his mouth and sucked tenderly, as Jared continued to stroke the head of his own cock. Peter felt overpowered by the musky odor that had begun to emanate from Jared's cock and balls. He was revolted to recognize that pubic hair had come loose from the balls, and was floating free in his mouth.

Jared put his hand on the top of Peter's head, and pushed his face away from his balls. Peter tried to spit out the pubic hair, but could not.

"Open mouth," Jared said, and Peter complied. Jared pushed his cock into Peter's mouth and, holding Peter's head still with the hand on his head, began to fuck Peter's mouth, pumping his hips firmly but slowly. Peter gagged as the cock touched his throat, but with his wrists cuffed and the firm hand on his head, he could not move away. He began to drool out long strings of saliva around the cock as it thrust in and out of his mouth. Jared sometimes thrust as deeply as he could and held it there for a few seconds, so that Peter's nose was ticked by pubic hair as he wretched ineffectively, unable to clear the intruding object from his throat. He was dizzy, and disorientated. He tried to escape the reality of this fucking of his mouth, and find strength to endure by imagining Cindy's smile, the music of her voice, the voluptuous curves of her tits and ass.

Jared was now holding Peter's head with two hands and fucking his mouth as though it were a pussy. A squelching sound came from Peter's mouth in time with the thrusting of the cock. "Suck!" Jared gasped, and Peter began to suck at the cock as hard as he could, hoping to make Jared cum, and end this ordeal.

Jared was panting "Yeh, yeh yeh," as he sped up the pace of his thrusting, and suddenly he stiffened, and pushed his cock as deep as it would go into Peter's throat, as the cock began to jolt and spasm with its own life, flooding Peter's throat and mouth with cum. Peter remembered Cindy's voice saying "swallow," and he tried to swallow all the cum that shot out the cock, but he could not, and he felt some flowing out of the sides of his mouth. Jared pulled the cock out of Peter's mouth and tapped it against Peter's nose and eyes as it oozed the last of his load.

He stuck the prick back into Peter's mouth, sighed and said, "Yes baby, suck me clean." Peter sucked at the hideous, cum covered cock, overwhelmed by its wretched flavor, feeling the sticky cum on his chin, nose and eyes. He had never been so low, and the only thing that sustained his spirit from utter collapse was the image of Cindy. With his hands cuffed behind him, he could not wipe the cum from his face, or remove the pubic hairs from his mouth. Jared's cock became soft and rubbery in his mouth, and then Jared pulled out and stepped away. He pulled on his underpants and then his trousers. He looked at the bedside table, opened drawers, and said to Peter, "I am sorry. I do not see key." He came over and took Peter's leash, and stood him up. It was awkward for Peter to take his feet with his hands cuffed behind his back. "Come, we go." He opened the door and led Peter into the main room.

The others were still watching the DVD. Brian had his feet up on the coffee table, and his arm around Cindy. She was snuggled into him, wearing the smile of a comfortable cat. Her hand was on Brian's belly, just above his cock. Laura paused the DVD, and undimmed the lights. The four off them sat up and attended to Peter and Jared. Jared led Peter over in front of them. Peter looked down at Cindy's feet. There was cum on his face, and cum and pubic hair in his mouth. His hands were cuffed behind his back.

"He is very good cock sucker," Jared said. "Cindy should be proud. I hope you don't mind I use these handcuffs Laura. Unfortunately, now I cannot find the keys." Peter was looking down at the floor, his face scarlet with shame. He could feel all eyes on him, on the cum smeared on his face, and dripping in globs from the corners of his mouth and his chin.

"Peter," Laura said sharply, "your manners. Do you have anything to say?"

Peter did not know what she wanted him to say. He hesitated, and then said "Thank you sir, for using my mouth."

"No thank you. It my pleasure." Jared went and sat on the sofa behind Peter, leaving Peter facing the others.

"And?" Laura asked.

"Thank you, Steve," Peter said, still looking down, "for calling Jared over to use my mouth."

"Don't be so rude! You look at people when you speak to them," Laura scolded.

Peter looked up at Steve, who sat grinning at him, and repeated meekly: "Thank you Steve, for calling Jared over to use my mouth."

He looked at Cindy then, and said: "Thank you Cindy, for giving me a chance to prove that I will do anything for you."

Cindy stared at him with disgust, as though he were a loathsome insect. He felt that he wanted to cry, and began to look down, but then again met her eyes as she said: "You don't do for me. You do because you want to do."

"No Cindy," slave said softly, looking pleadingly into her cold eyes. She snorted in contempt, and looked at Brian.

"Congratulations," Brian said. "Now you are a fag. You must be proud. What's that on your chin?"

Peter wanted to look down, but he didn't dare to, even though Laura had left the room. He hesitated, and then said "Its Jared's cum, sir."

"Didn't Cindy tell you to swallow?" Brian asked. Cindy looked at him sharply, sneering at the cum covering his face.

"Yes sir, she did sir. I'm sorry. I tried to. I wanted to."

"Maybe you should say sorry to Cindy."

Peter looked down, and then up into Cindy's glare of contempt and disgust. "I'm sorry Cindy. I'm very sorry. I tried to. If you give me another chance. . ."

Cindy cursed him in Chinese that he could not understand. Laura came up behind him and unlocked the handcuffs.

"Maybe you can finish the rest now," Steve suggested.

Peter moaned in shame, and looked at Steve with pleading eyes. Steve gestured for him to collect it the sperm on his chin with his finger, and suck it from his fingers. Peter let out a deep sigh and looked down. 

"Come on, do what your told," Laura said impatiently.

Not looking up, Peter collected the gobs of cum from the corners of his mouth and his chin with one finger and sucked it from this finger. He retched as he sucked. 

Cindy let out a disgusted scoff, and she and Brian looked away.

"Ok, you wretch: your clothes are in the spare room," Laura said, pointing. "Go and get changed and get out of here. Stay out of the lav. I don't want you in there."

Peter walked glumly into the spare room, and closed the door behind him. His heart was in his stomach. What had he done? The dream had been much better. Now, Cindy loathed him. He couldn't bear it. He took of the clothes in which Laura had dressed him. He wiped off the makeup with the inside of his shirt. He tried to get the pubic hair out of his mouth, but without water he could do nothing about the heavy taste of Jared's cum in his mouth. He changed into his own clothes. His felt so heavy, so slowed, and so desperate. He could not bear to lose Cindy from his life. Oh, what had he done! Had he lost the tiny piece of her heart that he'd held? Oh, and now she and Brian! He could not bear it. He pressed his hands to his face in despair. He could not live with this loss. Her presence was the only thing that he lived for: all else was dross, was meaningless and insipid. 

He opened the door, and went back out into the main room. The lights were again dimmed, and they were once more watching the DVD.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out," Steve said.

The others said nothing, but continued to watch the DVD. Peter went and threw himself to his knees in front of Cindy. He put his forehead to the ground in the traditional Chinese posture of supplication, and pleaded "Oh please Cindy, please, I am your slave, I love you, please let me be your slave. I can't live if I am not your slave." He began to cry, and repeat "Please, please," while bumping his forehead again and again on the hardwood floor.

Laura undimmed the lights and, with and impatient sigh, again paused the DVD.

"Go away!" Cindy shouted passionately. "You're disgusting. I hate you."

"Oh please no Cindy, please no, it's my destiny to be your slave, there's no other life for me," 

"I have no interest in slave. I am normal girl."

"Please Cindy, please, I beg you," he wept, and then, suddenly, he had a plan bred of desperation. "Brian, please sir, be my Master. I will do anything for you. I will clean, shop, drive you where you want to go. Please master. Please let me be your slave."

Brian and Steve chuckled. "Sounds like a good deal," Steve said.

Brian stood up, and then Peter saw his feet in front of him.

"Kiss my shoes," Brian said.

Peter inched forward and began to kiss his master's shoes enthusiastically.

"Are you sure?" Brian asked. 

"Yes sir, please sir, let me be your slave."

"Why do you want to be my slave?"

Slave spoke while continuing to kiss Brian's shoes. "If I can't be Cindy's slave, I should be a slave to a person who is close to her."

"If I let you be my slave, you have to give up on Cindy. You have to understand that she will never ever want you. Do you understand that?"

"Yes Master," slave said meekly, still kissing the shoes.

"Look up and tell Cindy that you are my slave, and that you understand that she will never ever want you."

Peter, still kissing Master's shoes, looked up at Cindy. She was looking down at him with immeasurable scorn and disgust, shocked and repelled at the depth to which he had sunk.

"Cindy, I am Brian's slave. I understand that you will never want me."

"That's right, of course you have no chance," Cindy said with scorn.

"Go now," Brian said, "crawl back into the spare room, and you can give Cindy and I a lift home when we are finished the movie."

"Thank you Master, thank you," Peter said with utmost sincerity, still kissing Master's shoes.

"Go!" Master commanded roughly, pushing him away with his shoe.

Slave crawled from the main room into the spare room, and closed the door behind him.

He sat on the floor near the door for perhaps forty minutes. The others said little during the movie, and then he could hear Brian and Cindy preparing to leave. There was a knock on the door, and Laura called into him. "Your Master is ready to leave now."

Peter came out of the room. He was so beyond shame, that the lowliness of his status, and the meekness of his demeanor gave him comfort. There was nothing more he could lose. He had won the only victory he could win: he was Brian's slave, and Brian, it seemed, was Cindy's boyfriend. Things were as they should be.

Brian stood grinning at him, and Cindy looked at him with no recognition, as though he were a thing.

"Go and bring the car around front and wait for us," Brian said to Peter shortly.

"Yes Master," Peter said, and then he passed under their gazes and went down to get the car.

Peter parked in front of the building, and waited for Cindy and Brian. He heard their voices approaching from behind, and Cindy saying "It's this car." Cindy and Brian got into the back of the car, and Brian gave Peter curt directions, and told him to be sure not to gawk at them in the rear view mirror. As he drove, they chatted for a while, and then Peter could hear the sound of their kisses. His cock was so stiff listening to Cindy's small sounds of pleasure.




Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 03



"Pull over here," Master said, and Peter pulled the car over and stopped it. "You wait here for Cindy, and you can send her home when we're done. You can play with yourself; you've earned it. Don't call me. I'll call you when I have something for you to do."

Cindy and Brian get out of the car, and walked toward Brian's building. Peter watched Cindy's magnificent ass moving under her white trousers, and immediately pulled out his cock and began to tug at it earnestly, so that he could come while Cindy's ass was still in view. He shot gouts of cum over his lap just as they turned the corner and went out of his view. As the cum shot out over his trousers he panted "Cindy! I love you Cindy!"

He tried to clean the cum from his trousers with tissues, and then reclined the seat and sank into sleep. He was awakened by a tapping at the window. Cindy was shining and satisfied. It was very early morning. He unlocked the doors and she got into the back seat.

"Are you OK?" Peter asked.

"Don't talk to me," Cindy said with scorn.

"Sorry Cindy, I just. . ."

"Don't talk to me!" she shouted at him ferociously, "and don't look at me." She slid to the seat immediately behind him, so that he could not see her in the rear view mirror. "If you talk to me, I tell Brian, then what you think he do?"

"Sorry Cindy, I. . ."

"I say don't talk to me! Are you so stupid?"

Tears trickled down Peter's cheeks as he drove, and she put in earphones and listened to music. As he neared her apartment, he asked "Cindy, will you come to work on Monday?"

"You talk to me again?" she said with menace.

Peter felt crushed. He had lost everything. This had all been for Cindy, and he had lost the small connection he'd had with her. He pulled over, and began to sob softly.

"I come to work on Monday. I like my job. I like our company. I only want do my job, live normal life. You don't bother me at work, or I quit."

Peter's face brightened, though he continued to shake with gentle sobs. "Thank you Cindy, thank you. I promise I won't bother you."

She slammed the door as she left the car. He watched her beautiful ass until it left his view, and then he drove himself home.



Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 04



Peter's business was very successful, to a large extent because Cindy was so efficient. She was number two in the company, answering only to Peter. She was very good at her job, and she could have found a position with another company easily, but she did not seem to have such ambitions, because she was proud of what they had made of the company in six years of working together, and because she was comfortable where she was. Peter had often offered Cindy a higher salary, but she would not take it: she said when they earned more money she would take a higher salary.

Peter's was the only office on the third floor of their building. There were four offices on the second floor, and Cindy shared an office with the four Chinese girls who worked directly beneath her. The office for the foreign staff was beside her office, and twelve foreigners worked in this office, mostly young men. These young men were all enamored of Cindy, and Peter was convinced that they felt the business was a success because of Cindy, and not because of him.

Cindy dressed very casually at work, and wore librarian glasses. You would not immediately recognize how sexy she was, until she began to move, and to speak with her strange and rich voice. She was flirtatious at work, without seeming in any way slutty or available. She would slap other staff members on the back or on the ass as she passed them in the halls, and speak to them in a jokingly strict tone. All members of staff felt privileged and charmed when she gave them directions. She was not like any other person. She was natural, and straight, and though she always seemed to say and do the first thing that came into her head, she was actually very careful, and never did or said anything that would make her lose face.

Although he always longed to, Peter avoided going into Cindy's office unless he had some important business. He had learned to avoid hanging around in her office without a purpose through frequent cool and humiliating rebuffs. Usually, he and Cindy communicated through the company's intranet message function.

On Monday morning, Peter sat in his office working halfheartedly, waiting for Cindy to log on. She was in later than usual, but when he saw her log on, he sighed with relief, and his heart rose up from the choking depths of his belly. He didn't think he could run this business without her: he needed her in every way.

Cindy did not contact him through the message system, and he could think of nothing that he needed to ask her, though he so wanted to communicate with her in any way. He wanted to go down to her office, but he was afraid and ashamed to face her after what had happened on Friday night. He recalled that she had instructed him not to bother her at work. He continued to work half heartedly for a few hours, and then his heart leapt as he saw that he had received a message from Cindy. The message said "Come down."

Peter typed back "coming," and then went down to her office. He had butterflies, and his heart was in his throat as he entered her office. Cindy had turned her chair around from her workstation, and was seated facing two of the young foreign men who worked in the office beside hers. They were chatting in a friendly and casual way, and Peter did not dare to interrupt. Cindy did not look at him, so he stood waiting as they continued with their small talk. He noticed one of the young guys look at him and then grin at the other guy. Cindy must have noticed this as well, but still she did not look at Peter as he stood there waiting. Peter felt his cheeks turning red as he realized everyone must recognize that though he was the head of this company, and a mature man of forty five years of age, he stood here waiting on these young people like the lowliest of office clerks.

Cindy's face was bright and smiling as she spoke with the two young men, but when she turned her head to face him, the laughter and light left her face and was replaced by a cold, unrecognizing neutrality. She handed him a document and said, "This is Colin's report. Go and proof read it, and if you have any suggestions let me know." Peter took the document and said meekly: "Sure thing. Thank you Cindy." As he left the room, Cindy and the two young foreigners resumed their chatting. Her voice was like music.

The rest of the week continued in this way. Peter spent most of his time in his office, completing tasks that Cindy had assigned him. When she wanted to speak to him, she called him down to her office, and gave him directions briskly, and in a painfully business like tone. When he looked at her, he used his eyes to silently plead with her to show him some warmth, but her gaze remained frigid and distant, as though daring him to say a word that was not related to business. His pain and his sense of loss were exacerbated by hearing and seeing her laugh and joke warmly with all others but him. The other members of staff had noticed the way in which Cindy was dealing with Peter, and they became more stand offish with him, and sometimes he heard them snicker behind his back. He felt so alone up in his office, and he felt ashamed and isolated when he passed through other portions of the building. 

He once asked Cindy if he could give her a lift home after work, but she said "No. Don't need," so rudely that he did not dare to ask again. He so missed the way things had been between he and Cindy, the little warmth that he had had from her, and the occasional chance he'd had to drive her home, and he reviled himself for having thrown this all away. Somehow, though, the cold way she treated him made him so horny, and he had a constant desire to wank, and to degrade himself, to become the person that she now considered him to be. 

Peter did not know whether or not Cindy and Brian were keeping in touch. She left work every day at five, and he did not know whether or not she and Brian were talking on the phone, or meeting in the evenings. He wished Brian would contact him, but he did not. He considered contacting Brian, though he had been instructed not to. He began to feel that if it made Brian angry, and brought on some sort of punishment, that would be fine, because now he loathed himself so deeply for having lost Cindy's friendship, and reduced himself to less than nothing in her eyes, that he craved any sort of punishment. In the evenings, he looked at photos of Cindy on his computer, and wanked, but he did not let himself cum, as he felt he didn't deserve it. He was so horny all day every day.

On Thursday afternoon, he received a text message from Brian. It said: "Be at Laura's place at 9:00 am Saturday morning. Shave all hair from your body below your neck. Master." Peter was both delighted and terrified. He had had so little chance to see Cindy this week, and he was eager to see her, in any capacity, on Saturday. If Cindy knew about this appointment however, she gave no indication. When he stood beside her desk, listening to her give him an assignment, he attempted to gauge from her expression whether or not she knew about Saturday, but he could not tell. Her expression remained closed to him. She looked at him only with Siddhartha eyes.

Peter knocked at the door of Laura's apartment at precisely 9:00 am on Saturday morning. He was careful with the time, as he knew that she would catch him on any detail, and he knew how cruel she could be. Laura bellowed "Come in," and he did his best to cover over the loathing and resentment that he felt in his heart for this big, vulgar Yorkshire girl. It is all for Cindy, he reminded himself, as he stepped into the room. Laura and Steve were lounging on the sofa in their pajamas watching a DVD. There were breakfast things on the coffee table in front of them, and the apartment was a mess. There no sign of Cindy and Brian.

"Into the spare room, and change into the clothes that you find there," Laura said.

"Yes Ms," Peter said meekly, and went into the spare room. He was afraid of her. 

There was no furniture in the spare room, but for a mattress in the corner. In the center of the room, on the hardwood floor, were white stockings, a white garter belt, the blonde bob wig, a bottle of baby oil, white, high heeled sandals in a large size, and nothing else. He took off his clothes. He was not sure what to do with the oil, but spread some over his body. He pulled the stockings up his hairless legs, fastened the garter belt, snapped it to the stockings, and put on the blonde wig. He stepped into the high heeled sandals. His cock was standing straight up and stiff, waggling lewdly in front of him at the thought that Cindy might at any time arrive and see him in such outrageously minimal attire. A small tear of pre cum had gathered at its eye. He went to the door and opened it. It was so awkward to walk, and even to simply stand in these heels. He stepped into the room, awkwardly, but attempting to move in a feminine way, as Laura had instructed him. He was afraid if making and small mistake. He clasped his hands behind his back and stood meekly, looking down, waiting for command.

They looked at him for a few moments, chuckling but saying nothing, and then Steve said "Wow, it's got a big cock."

"A big cock is no use on a sissy bitch, is it," Laura responded as she got up and walked toward him. She walked around him once, and then took his earlobe and pulled his head down slightly. With her free hand, she slapped his ass hard. "That is not nearly enough oil. I want your cock and ass glistening. Now get back in there and put on more oil!"

"Yes Ms," Peter said. She slapped his ass again as he turned to go back into the room. He applied much more oil to his body, in particular to his cock and balls. He applied more than seemed reasonable, as he did not want Laura to have any reason to rebuke him. As he stepped back into the room, he felt so slick and slippery. His skin was glistening. Laura seemed satisfied, and she ordered him to put away the breakfast things, and clean the apartment thoroughly. Peter went to work, grateful for the chance to lose himself in the tasks at hand, taking some satisfaction from the knowledge that he was doing this for Master, and through that connection doing this for Cindy. Though she might never recognize or acknowledge that this was all for her, it was indeed the case.

Laura and Steve continued to lounge lazily, watching DVDs. Though he hid it beneath his meekness, he felt contempt for them. This contempt, though, was moderated by the gratitude that he felt toward them for having given him the chance to submit to Cindy, even by these three degrees of separation: he served them to serve Brian, and he in turn served Brian in order to serve Cindy. 

For the most part, Laura and Steve ignored him as he went about his work. It was difficult for him to move about in the high heels, let alone to move in a feminine way, but Laura occasionally corrected him, and offered instruction, mostly when one of them had called for something from the kitchen, and after being instructed to exit and reenter a few times, he began to get the hang of it, and moving in a feminine way in the high heels began to feel natural. 

He prepared three sandwiches for lunch, and was asked to join them. They ate at the sofa, and he was asked to put a plastic shopping bag on the small sofa which he had sat on with Jared, so that he did not get oil on the furniture. He kept wondering where Cindy and Master were, and if they would arrive.

After lunch, he tidied up, and then Laura told him to go to the room and put on more oil. He came back, and then Laura put on a DVD of strippers dancing. She told him to copy what they were doing. He followed the actions of the strippers, while Steve and Laura smoked joints and drank tea. Occasionally, Laura rewound the DVD, and asked him to repeat a certain move, until he had it perfectly. He was kept at this for hours. Laura encouraged when he performed well, by telling him that Brian and Cindy were going to love his show. When he had trouble performing a particular move, he was punished by a few sharp strokes of the cane to his ass and thighs.

By early evening, Laura had choreographed for him a two part dance, the first part standing, and including individual lap dances to she and Brian, and the second part a floor show. In both parts of the dances, he assumed a series of the smuttiest and most submissive postures imaginable. He was wearing no panties, and at first he felt so uncomfortable spreading his ass cheeks toward them, blowing kisses at them from over his shoulder, and looking back at them upside down from between his knees, but then it became natural, as he began to feel like the object he had become. His cock became so hard any time they mentioned the possibility of Cindy witnessing his show. He could not bear the thought of the shame, but at the same time it was the most arousing thing he could think of, to give himself up so totally to her, to let his devotion to her drive him to become nothing.

They ordered dinner in, but did not let him stop dancing when the delivery girl arrived. His back was to her, and he could not see her, but he heard her giggling at the sight of his gleaming, hairless ass. They ate the same way as they had eaten lunch, and the plastic shopping bag crinkled under him, and stuck to his ass when he stood. After he had cleaned up, and begun to dance again, Steve pointed out that the lettering of the shopping bag had been transferred to his ass.

He was exhausted from dancing all afternoon. He was down on all fours, thrusting his oily, hairless ass up toward them as though begging to be fucked, when Steve's phone rang.

"Hey Brian, what are you guys up to?"

Slave halted, shocked, but Laura hissed at him "keep going," so he continued with his routine.

Brain continued on the phone: "Sounds nice. Is the beautiful Cindy taking a drink?. . .Tell her I told her to take a drink, and to enjoy herself. . . Not bad, not bad. . . It's cool, you guys should check it out. . . Yes, he's here. Laura is teaching him to dance. . . It's fantastic, you should see it. . . No doubt . . . You two guys enjoy yourself, and have fun tomorrow. . . Cheers. Later dude." 

Peter was squirming around on the floor now as he continued to follow the dance Laura had choreographed for him.  His cock was rock hard, and drooling pre cum, from having been close to Cindy's presence by proxy. His heart was cinched tight with jealousy and loss. As he rolled over on his back, however, lifted his legs straight up in the air, and spread and closed them, he recognized that he was worthless, that he was nothing, and he felt a strange comfort in this, knowing that he had assumed this condition as a gesture of devotion to the highest ideal, as an act of love for Cindy. One day she would surely recognize all that he had given up for her. . . His heart fluttered with a shock of fear, knowing that this thought was in direct disobedience of Master's first command: that he should abandon all hope of his love ever being requited by Cindy.

"Right," Laura said as he completed his routine for umpteenth time that day, "Time for beddy bies. The adults have had enough and we are going to watch a movie. Toodle on."

Peter went to the bedroom, making sure to wiggle his shiny ass when he walked, as Laura had taught him. He was very tired, and he slept soundly. He dreamed of Cindy, but he could not recall what he had dreamed, only that she had been present in his dreams. His heart felt light though, and he presumed this was because she had been kind to him in his dreams. 

The next morning, dressed as he had been dressed the day before, and again doused in oil, he prepared breakfast, and again tidied the apartment. He washed their socks and underpants by hand.

After he had completed his tasks, he reported to Laura and Steve, who again sat on the sofa in their pyjamas. He was ordered to perform the dance that Laura had choreographed for him again. He was again encouraged by being told that Cindy and Brian would be proud of him, and rebuked for shortcomings with harsh words and sharp cracks of the cane across his ass and thighs. After running through the routine several times, he stood meekly in front of them, panting and exhausted, with his arms crossed behind his back.

"That's very good," Laura said, "but you will need to practice every day on your own, until it is perfect. You want it to be perfect if you ever have a chance to dance for Brian and Cindy, don't you."

"Yes Ms," Peter said.

"Ok," Laura continued, "so far you have learned part one and two of your routine. Steve has an idea for the third part, and you are going to learn that now."

Steve, grinning, handed Peter a piece of paper. On it, were drawings of stick figures in different postures. There were eleven postures, and these were numbered two to twelve.

"The first thing is the postures," Steve said, taking two dice from the lower part of the coffee table. "Somebody rolls the dice, and you take the posture. You can look at the pictures now, but by the time I see you again, you will have to have memorized these. Let's begin." He rolled two dice, and said "Seven."

Peter looked at the paper for the appropriate posture, and then got down on all fours, with his back arched, and his head and his ass up high. 

"Spread your knees wider," Steve said.

Peter complied.

"Wider."

Peter spread his knees wider. He felt so open behind.

Laura turned on the television, and they left him like that for a few minutes. Then, Laura rolled the dice again: "Two."

He looked at the sheet, stood up and spread his legs as wide as he could. They left him like that for a few minutes, while they chatted, and half the TV. They rolled the dice several times, and Peter assumed the postures presented on the sheet provided by Steve. He felt very tired, and he felt like an object.

Steve took out his mobile phone, and set the stop watch to 3 minutes, but did not start it. "This is the fun part now. Start stroking your cock." 

Slave whimpered in shame, and began to slowly stroke his cock, while remaining in the appropriate posture, on his knees, knees together, back straight. 

"After three minutes, we will roll a single dice. If we roll a one, you have ten seconds to cum. If you don't come in ten seconds, you lose the privilege. If we roll anything else, you remain in the posture you are in until we roll two dice again, continue. Do you think you can do that?"

"Yes sir," Peter said, still slowly stroking his hardening cock.

Laura rolled two dice, and said "four." Steve started the stop watch.

Steve assumed the appropriate posture, legs spread, and bent over resting on one hand, looking upside down through his spread knees. He continued to stroke his cock.

"You need to keep turning around slowly," Steve said, "so that everyone can get a good look at you. You should turn two complete circuits during the three minutes."

Peter began to turn slowly, still stroking his cock. 

"Brain and Cindy spent the weekend together," Laura teased. "I think they're over at Brian's place now. Think about what they are doing. Think about how lucky Brian is to kiss her, and to feel her body. . ."

Slave whimpered. She had pressed the right buttons. He was so horny now, he would cum in an instant. He stopped stroking, for fear he'd cum too soon.

"Don't stop," Brian said. 

Peter began to stroke himself again, but very slowly. A string of pre cum stretched from his cock to the floor. He could not stop groaning, and grinding his ass sluttishly.

"Oh lovely, aren't you a sight," Laura said.

The buzzer went on Steve's phone. Peter tugged so delicately at his cock, his head was spinning. He teetered at the precipice. He was ready to shoot with a single tug.

Laura rolled the dice: "Six."

Peter let out a pained groan. Steve rolled two dice, and called out "Twelve."




Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 04



Peter lay on his back, lifted his legs over his head and touched his toes to the floor beyond his head. He began to stroke again. He was oblivious to all but the surging in his cock, and Laura's words as she continued to describe Cindy and Brian's pleasure together. A string of pre cum dangled from his cock and connected to the space between his nose and his upper lip.

"Wow, aren't you a state," Laura said. "If you get to cum this way, I want it all in your mouth, do you understand?"

"Yes Ms," Peter croaked breathlessly. His shiny white ass cheeks had begun to tremble, and Laura and Steve laughed at him.

"How do you feel when you think of Cindy and Brian together?" Laura asked.

"I feel happy for them and sad for me," Peter panted. His ass was pumping up into the air. The pre cum was flowing into his open mouth. His level of arousal was unbearable. He was a slut, he would do anything. Anything.

The alarm went. Steve rolled the dice: "one!" 

Peter shot instantly, aiming the thick white goo into his mouth, putting out his tongue to catch it all. He let out a protracted groan, and his whole body clenched in an electric jolt. The last gobs spattered over his face.

"Swallow!" Laura commanded.

He swallowed eagerly, hungry for his own abasement.

"You diiirty little slut!" Steve exclaimed in amazement.

Peter sank back in semi consciousness.

"Right, wipe up your slime, get dressed and get out. Don't wash your face, or clean your mouth," Laura commanded.

In a daze, Peter wiped up the oil and the cum from the floor, and then went into the spare room, and changed. He could still taste the cum in his mouth, and there globs of it were trickling down his face.

"Practice your dance, and study the positions," Laura said as he reentered the main room, dressed now in his own clothes. "You may have a chance to perform Brian and Cindy soon. Now get!"

"Thank you Ms. Thank you sir," slave said meekly and sincerely. "Thank you for everything. Thank you for teaching me to be a slave."

"Get!" Laura said impatiently.

Peter left the apartment. He did not wipe the cum from his face until he had got into the elevator, for fear that they would check up on him. During the whole drive home he could taste the cum in his mouth, and he wondered what Cindy and Brian were doing, what heaven they were living in.



Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 05



The next morning, Peter sat at his desk in his office trying to work, but really waiting to see Cindy log on to the internal message system. His heart was comforted when he saw her name light up, and he was able to focus more on his work, with the soothing presence of her lighted name on the internal message system.

About an hour passed, and then the door behind him opened, and Cindy walked in without knocking. He stood, and said "Good morning, Cindy."

"Good morning, Peter." Her voice was soft and tender.

She sat down on the sofa beside his desk without being asked, and then said to him "Sit down."

He sat down and met her eyes. She was looking at him warmly. She said "Are you ok?"

"I'm ok, thank you Cindy."

She gave him a caring and slightly worried half smile. "You know Laura and Steve are not very good people."

"I know that Cindy."

"I am friends with them now because they are funny, and I have fun with them. They will not stay in China for long though. They don't mean so much to me. You have been my colleague for six years, and maybe we will work together for long time." Her voice was so soft and so tender: he loved her so much. Being near her though was like standing in fire.

"That's what I want, Cindy, I want to work together with you forever."

She watched his face closely with Siddhartha eyes. She looked down, and then up again to his eyes. "Brian want you give me your bank card and your credit card."

Peter took out his wallet, and handed her his bank card and his credit card. She took these, and put them in her purse, then again met his eyes. "You know you can trust me. I will look after your money. Brian want to take these cards, but I told him I take them."

"Thank you Cindy. Of course I know I can trust you. I will always trust you. You are the only one in the world I can trust."

"Thank you Peter," she said sincerely. "When you need money you tell me. When I give it to you, you can sign in here," she held up a notebook, "so we can keep record."

"Thank you Cindy."

She smiled from one side of her mouth, and then sighed sadly. She looked into his eyes again.

"I give you warning. You won't find what you want. You be careful Peter. Sometimes young woman is attracted to man who is master, to man who is cruel. If you are Brian's slave, you push me to him more. I am normal young woman. I like the man who is strong. Also, I hate weak man. When I see how low you let him push you, it make me feel I hate you, make me feel you are disgusting. Peter, I don't want to hate you."

She ceased speaking, and looked deeply into his eyes for a response. He held her frank and honest eyes, and tried to show her through his own eyes the depths of his despair.

When he said nothing, she continued: "I warn you, Brian is very cruel, and he has ideas. He really want make you his slave. Really slave, not just playing."

Peter looked down from her eyes, thinking, and then looked up. "Cindy, you are so good to me. You are the only one in the world who cares about me. You know I have no family, and no friends. Only you and our business: that's all there is for me in this world. I want this business to be strong so that we will always be safe. If I can't have you though, I need to give myself up to you. Cindy, I love you so much. . ." He looked at her pleadingly, and slipped to his knees in front of her.

Her cheeks flushed suddenly, from both anger and arousal. She stood up, and stepped toward the door. "You be careful," she said fiercely, "I am starting to get idea too. I start to feel I want see Brian cruel to you, and I want be cruel to you too." She looked down for an instant, with a trace of shame. "I am good girl, normal girl. You put these bad ideas in my mind!"

"All I wanted, needed, was for you to love me. I would have looked after our family with all my heart, and you would have been the only thing I cared about and worked for. Cindy, I would have done anything for you. . ." 

"That can never happen. I don't want." Cindy said coldly and emphatically. There was a trace of cruel mirth in her expression.

"It was my destiny to be with you, but if you can never love me. . ."

"Never," she interjected firmly.

"My destiny is broken, and so if you can't love me, I want you to be cruel to me. I need to feel something coming from you. The only thing I couldn't bear is no connection to you at all, or a connection that was weak, and had no passion, no intensity. You are the only meaning in my life, Cindy. Without you, it's emptiness, like I am floating in space. Please, have mercy. . ."

"I have no more patience for you." 

"I love you Cindy. I need you in the same way that I need air. Please. . ."

Cindy took another step toward the door, and opened it. She looked down at him kneeling, her lip curled in scorn, and a gleam of rage in her eyes.

"I will tell Brian what you said!" She sneered at him. "You remember what you said."

She began to leave the office, and then came back and put a paper on his desk. "This is your work for today. When you finish, let me know. Don't come down to my office unless I ask you."

She left the office briskly, slamming the door behind her.

Peter worked very diligently throughout the day, to complete the tasks that Cindy had given him. He did the best job that he could, because he wanted her to remember that for their work, for what mattered, he was valuable. A Chinese person could understand this. When he completed his tasks, he was proud of what he had done, and he knew she would be impressed, and remember what was good about him. He knew that despite his handsome face, and his bulky chest, Brian could never do the mental work that Peter could do. He knew that in terms of intelligence, Brian was nowhere near his level, and he felt certain that Cindy too must recognize this.

In the late afternoon, he sent the completed documents to her though the internal message system, accompanied by a note, saying: "I'm finished Cindy."

A few moments later she replied "Thank you," through the message system, and then "You can go home now."

He typed back "Thank you Cindy." He waited several minutes for a reply, but there was none. He passed her office on the way out of the building. He did not dare to look in, but from the corner of his eye, he could see that she was working at her computer, and he guessed that she was reading the documents he had sent her.

For the next three days, Peter did not get a chance to see Cindy. Any matters they needed to discuss were discussed through the internal message system, and she gave him no opportunity to come down to her office to speak to her in person. Her correspondence was formal and perfunctory. He worked diligently at the tasks she assigned him, still hoping to receive her praise, but she gave none. He was so frustrated, knowing that she was down on the second floor, and that any of the young foreign staff members could stroll into her office for a chat at any time, but that he, the leader of the company could not: no, he was confined to his office.

On Thursday at noon, as he sat at his desk mourning the loss of the little connection he had had with Cindy, and hating himself, his mobile phone rang, and as he looked at the screen he saw 'Master.' His heart was in his throat as he answered the call. Only Master could help him recover from his loss. 

"Hello Master," Peter said meekly.

"Well, Peter, I hear you've been a bad boy."

Peter knew that Cindy had spoken to Master, and told him what he had said to her on Monday. He said, very sincerely, "I'm sorry Master. Please forgive me. It will never happen again."

"What was our agreement? I said you could be my slave, but what did you have to do?"

"I had to give up all hope of Cindy ever loving me, Master."

Master giggled. "You are so pathetic. Don't bother Cindy anymore. She doesn't want to hear you talk to her like that. Do you understand?"

"Yes Master," he said, vanquished.

"I have told her that if you speak to her like you did on Monday one more time, I won't let you be my slave anymore. I have a way for you to make up for it this time though, something that will help you to understand your place. If you do what I ask, you can continue to be my slave, and you can even come over and clean my place this weekend while Cindy is over. Would you like that?"

"Oh yes Master," Peter said enthusiastically. "Thank you Master. Thank you so much."

Brain laughed. "Ok. I want you to be at Luga's Villa this afternoon at three. Do you know where it is?"

"Yes Master, I know where it is." Luga's Villa was a classy restaurant in the international part of the city, which was frequented mostly by foreigners. It would take him a little over an hour to get there.

"Ok, be there at three."

Peter said "Thank you Master," but before he had finished speaking, Brian had put down the phone.

Peter sent a message on the internal system to Cindy, saying "Hi Cindy. Is it ok if I leave at 1:30 today? I have something very important to do."

He sat for several minutes waiting for a reply, worrying about what to do if she did not give him permission, when he received Cindy's reply, "Ok. I am taking day off tomorrow. I will send you an email to let you know your work for tomorrow."

Peter travelled to near Luga's Villa, and parked his car. As he walked toward the restaurant, he received a text message from Master, saying "Go in and ask for Mr Liu."

Peter went into the restaurant, and told one of the waitresses he needed to speak to Mr Liu. The waitress grinned at him knowingly, and said "This way please." As he followed her, other waitresses stopped what they were doing and looked at him, pointed him out to one another, giggled and whispered. 

The waitress leading the way knocked at a door, and waited a few moments until a loud voice called out roughly "jin lai!" -- come in. The waitress opened the door and gestured for him to enter. A short, stocky Chinese man sat grinning behind a large, elaborate desk placed in the center of the room. Peter went and stood about a meter from the front of the desk, and held the index finger of one hand with the other hand. He was nervous, and beads of sweat were forming on his brow. 

"You are Brain's slave?"

"Yes, sir," Peter whispered.

Mr Liu chuckled. "Brian tell me if I let you work here tonight, you suck my cock?"

Peter whimpered softly as he realized what was in store for him, and then regained his composure and said "Yes sir."

Mr Liu laughed, and said "Very good." He pressed the button of an intercom on his desk, and commanded "Gou lai" -- come here. He opened a cabinet under his desk, and took out a bulky shopping bag. He said "Here you are," and handed it to Peter. Peter came forward and took it from him, and then stepped back to his position a meter back from the desk, facing Mr Liu.

"Thank you, sir."

"Not easy find big size fit you."

"Sorry sir, thank you, sir."

There was a timid knock at the door, and Mr Liu roared "Jin lai."

One of the waitresses entered the room, and came and stood beside Peter, facing Liu.

"This our new girl," Liu said. "You help her get dressed, then show her what to do. Tonight she take tables 5 – 10. Go!"

"Please follow me," the waitress said, and led him down a hall and into another room in which three other waitresses sat drinking tea. They looked up at Peter in an unfriendly way, letting him know that he was intruding, while the waitress who had led him to the room explained why he was there. One of the waitresses giggled, but the other two glared at him, and then these three waitresses left the room. The waitress who had led him to the room said "Please change clothes," and then left the room and closed the door behind her. There was a damp, moldy smell in the room. There were women's clothes in open lockers along one wall. Peter opened the bag, and saw that he was to change into the same uniform as the other waitresses wore. He pulled up sheer, transparent black tights, and then pulled a very short skirt up over these, and struggled to zip it up at the back. He found a bra with very large false tits, and struggled to put this on. 

As he struggled with the bra, the door opened, and a waitress entered, and stopped dead in her tracks with a shocked expression. "Aiyo!" she exclaimed, and hurried out of the room. She did not close the door behind her. He could hear excited words in Chinese that he could not understand from down the hall, and then the musical laughter of women. 

He put on a shiny white blouse with large lapels, and buttoned this up. He stepped into patent black leather pumps that were a bit small, and pinched at his toes. He put on the curly blonde wig that he had worn for his date with Jared. He did not know what to do next, so he stood holding onto his index finger, and waited. 

He heard whispering and giggles from just around the corner of the door, and then a woman's voice asked, "Are you ready?"

"Yes Ms," he said meekly, in the voice Laura had taught him to use, and stood up. The waitress who had led him to the room entered, and giggled to see him dressed as one of them. She brought with her a makeup bag. He noticed from her nametag that her name was Sunny.

"Please sit down," Sunny said, gesturing to a low stool. He sat down, and she pulled a chair in front of him, and sat in this, placing the makeup bag on the table beside them. She opened the bag, and began to do Peter's makeup. Two of the waitresses who had been sitting in the room when he'd entered now reentered the room, and gathered around, giving advice in Chinese to the girl doing Peter's makeup. There was a strong odor of perfume all around him. She put on his foundation, then blush, and then lipstick, eye shadow and mascara, all the while chatting with the other waitresses in Chinese, and only occasionally giving Peter instructions in English.

"So pretty," one of the waitresses said as the makeup was nearly completed.

Sunny asked him to stand, and then pinned a name tag to the left of his blouse. He looked down and noticed that his name was to be Penny. She tied a coin pouch around his waist, and handed him a pen and a pad of paper for taking orders. "Please follow me," she said. Although he had had a good deal of practice walking in heels for Laura, he still found it difficult, and these shoes pinched his toes.

Sunny showed Peter (Penny) his 5 tables. He noticed that one of the tables was reserved. She spent about half an hour explaining to Peter how to do the job, but he still felt a bit confused. Suddenly, a woman he had not seen before entered the room, clapped her hands together, and called out something in Chinese. She was much taller than the other girls, and very beautiful: she looked like a fashion model. She wore a tight black dress that showed off her slim figure. Her hair was long, sleek and straight, and her bangs were cut straight. Her face was arrogant and cold.

Sunny tugged at Peter's sleeve, and whispered "Hurry," as she went to join the other waitresses lining up in front of the bar. Peter followed Sunny, and lined up with the other waitresses, back to the bar, facing the tall lady, who was obviously the manager. Peter noticed that the other waitresses were looking down, and holding the index finger of one hand in the other, and he stood as they did. 

The manager began to bark at them in a hostile tone, like a drill sergeant. She spoke Chinese so quickly that Peter could not understand a word. The waitresses were all short, cute Chinese women, and Peter towered above them. Four customers entered the restaurant, two women and two men, all westerners, and one of the waitresses bowed her head to the manager, and went to show the customers to table one.

The manager walked along the line of waitresses, looking each girl up and down. Occasionally, she criticized a girl, and the girl lowered her head meekly, and said something in a soft voice. The customers were seated now, and they had noticed Peter in the line among the short waitresses. They were speaking about him in German, and laughing. The manager came along the line to Peter, looked him up and down with scorn, and then barked something that Peter did not understand. Sunny whispered, "Step forward." 

Peter stepped forward, and the manager took his sleeve and turned him around. She barked out something in Chinese, and Sunny stepped forward, and said something in an apologetic tone. The manager criticized her, and she bowed her head and apologized, and then said to Peter, "Come with me."

Sunny led Peter to the back room again. She seemed not so sunny now after having been criticized. "The zipper on your skirt is not straight." She turned him around, fiddled with the zipper, and turned the skirt around a bit on his hips. She then came in front of him and rearranged the shape of his false tits. She did not look in his face, and he could see that she was blushing. "Come," she said. They went back to the dining room, and the manager glared at them harshly, and then turned away. "Go to your area," Sunny said, and left him alone. He went over to tables five to ten, and stood near the wall, holding an index finger with the other hand.

The restaurant began to fill with customers. All of the customers noticed him, and joked about him, and the words that he could understand were very cruel and hurtful. Most of the customers were foreigners, but some foreign men had come in with Chinese women on dates. Though he only had two tables so far, he was very busy, and his feet and back were aching. 

Suddenly, with a jolt of despair, Peter noticed a waitress leading Brian and Cindy toward the reserved table in his section. He almost didn't recognize them at first. He had never seen Cindy dressed like this: he had only ever seen her dressed casually, or professionally; never glamorously. She was wearing an expensive turquoise dress, and dangling ear rings. Her hair was up, and she wore makeup. She was the most exquisite creature in creation, and all eyes turned to watch her pass. His heart ached: such vanity to think that she could ever want him, that she would ever even consent to let him be her slave. She could have anything in this world: why would she wish to continue working at his shitty little business. Peter looked like a film star, in his expensive blazer, shirt and tie. His hair shone with gel. It was so obvious that Brian and Cindy were miles and miles above him. What a joke was Peter's dream! 

They were seated, and Peter summoned all the courage that he could, and went toward their table, holding in front of him two menus. As he approached, Cindy did a shocked double take as she recognized him, and she took Brian's hand, squeezed it and said in her soft, rich voice, "It's Peter." 

Brian grinned at her, looked at Peter's name tag and said "I think its Penny," and then to Peter, "Are you Penny?"

"Yes sir," Peter said.

"Penny," Cindy repeated, and giggled. She smiled up at Peter like a cat.

He handed Peter a menu, and then Cindy a menu.

"Thank you," Cindy said in her soft voice, "Penny." She giggled and smiled at him.

Peter stood beside the table holding the order pad and the pen while they looked through the menu, and discussed what to order. His hands were trembling. Brian and Cindy took quite a while deciding what to order, as Brian had to translate for Cindy, explain certain dishes, and give her advice. Occasionally, Cindy smiled up at Peter, and examined his appearance with curiosity. She said something in Chinese to Brian about Peter's false tits, and Peter looked up at Brian's tits and replied in a Chinese that Peter could not understand. Cindy laughed, took Brian's hand and squeezed it. Eventually, Brian gave Peter his order. Cindy told Brian what she wanted, and Brian conveyed this to Peter. 

As Peter asked, "Will that be all, sir," Cindy simpered, and smiled at Peter warmly. 




Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 05



"That's it," Brain said. Peter bowed his head, and went to place their order.

Peter stood at his station waiting for the kitchen staff to call him to take Brian's and Cindy's orders to their table. He tried his best not to look over at Cindy and Brian, because his heart could not bear the jealous pain of seeing them together, looking so well. When he did glance over at them briefly though, he noticed that they were engrossed in their conversation, speaking closely to one another, eyes flickering in the candlelight, as though they had forgotten about him altogether.

The kitchen staff called Peter over, and handed him a tray with Brian's drink and his salad. As he placed these on the table in front of Brian, they stopped speaking, but paid no attention to him. 

Peter went back to his station, to wait for the rest of the order. Ten minutes passed, and Brian seemed to have become quite angry. He called Sunny over to the table, and was scolding her in Chinese. Peter could tell that he was calling for the manager. Sunny passed him on the way to get the manager. She seemed nervous, and did not look up at him. Cindy glanced over glumly at Peter, and he looked down as soon as he met her eyes.

The manager and Sunny went over to Peter's table, and Brian complained to the manager in Chinese. The manager kept apologizing, and then she said something to Sunny. Sunny came over to Peter, and said "come here." Peter stood between the manager and Sunny, facing the table. Both Brian and Cindy looked at him unhappily. He was so ashamed, and he felt so small, and Cindy looked so beautiful. He tried to resist, but his cock began to swell, and in moments it was fully erect beneath his tights. Peter could understand that the manager was explaining in Chinese that Penny was a new girl, and that they were very sorry. Peter prayed that his erection was not noticeable, but when he glanced up briefly he saw that Cindy was staring in an unabashed way at the noticeable bulge beneath his skirt, and her cheeks were flushed. The manager, Sunny and Brian noticed what Cindy was looking at. The manager said something to Sunny, and Sunny said to Peter: "You need to say you are sorry."

"I'm very sorry sir, ma'am," Peter said, and he dipped his head. 

"Gou lai!" -- come here -- the manager said strictly, and he followed her from the dining room, and into Liu's office. Liu was not in the office. The manager led Peter over to Liu's big table, and then pushed his back down, so that he was bent over it, his false tits pressed to the table top. She rudely hiked up Peter's skirt, and then pulled down the tights to just under his ass. He saw from the corner of his eye that she had taken a leather strap from a drawer at the side of the room. Still saying nothing, she came over behind him, and began to strap his ass ferociously. He squirmed and wiggled his ass, and lifted one leg and then the other. He bit his lip so that he would not begin to cry, and cause his make up to run. 

After a couple of very painful minutes, she put the paddle down beside him, tugged up his tights, and pulled down his skirt. She stood him up, looking him over. She rearranged his false tits, which had gone lopsided. His ass felt as if it were roasting. "Gou lai," she said, and he followed her back into the dining room, and to the side of Brian's and Cindy's table. 

His face was scarlet, and he could not look up to their faces. All of the dishes were at their table, and they stopped eating as he and the manager approached their table. The manager spoke to them very politely, again apologizing, and then she poked Peter, who looked up to see their grinning eyes, and said meekly, "I'm very sorry. I'm new here. It won't happen again." His face grew redder and redder as the shamefulness of his position sank in. Cindy smiled at him warmly, and then glanced down and noticed that the bulge under his skirt was no longer there.

"Doesn't matter," Cindy said softly, "no problem."

Peter went back to his station. He was busy with other tables, and he didn't notice that Sunny had taken Brian and Cindy's bill, and that they had paid and were leaving. He saw only their backs as they left the restaurant, and they did not look back at him. His heart sank into his stomach as he recalled that Cindy would be taking the day off work tomorrow.

By the time the last customers left the restaurant, Peter was exhausted: his back, his legs and his feet were aching. He couldn't imagine how these waitresses could do this work every night. His ass was still burning, reminding him of his subservience. He felt nervous whenever he saw the manager pass by, but she did not look at him, only at the tables that he was in charge of. He had not seen her smile even once. She constantly wore the same strict expression.

The other waitresses were busy sweeping the floors, and performing various tasks. Peter did not know what to do, and the other waitresses would not even look at him, let alone give him instructions, so he just stood there looking lost. The manager approached him, and said "Gou lai!" -- come here. He followed her again into Liu's office, which was still empty. She gestured for him to approach Liu's desk, and he feared that she was going to strap his ass again, but then she patted the desk and said "Xia lai" -- get up. He got up on the table, and through pushing and pulling she arranged him so that he was lying on his back across the table, with his head hanging over the table's edge, looking upside down at the door. She pressed the button of Liu's intercom, and he admired her slim legs just inches from his inverted face. Liu said "Wei?" over the intercom, and she said "Anpai hao le" -- it is prepared. She said "deng deng" – wait -- to Peter. He felt disoriented and vulnerable looking up into her inverted face, and then she turned and left the room, closing the door behind her.

He lay on his back on the desk, his knees up, with his head hanging over the edge for several minutes. A few times, he heard footsteps outside the door, and he cringed in preparation for the ordeal to come. He suspected that Liu was going to use his mouth, but he couldn't be certain. The blood was rushing to his head, reddening his face, and giving him a slight headache.

The door opened, and Mr Liu entered the room. He walked straight over to Peter's face, and stood with his crotch just over Peter's chin. He spread his legs to about shoulder width, so that his cock was at the level of Peter's mouth. Peter could only see the beige fabric of Liu's trousers. Liu pushed his hips forward and rubbed his clothed cock and balls over Peter's face while he took his mobile phone from his pocket and placed it beside Peter's arm. Mr Liu unzipped his trousers, and pulled his cock and his balls out through the fly. Peter could see Mr Liu's balls dangling at the level of his eyes. Peter opened his mouth obediently, and Mr Liu put one hand on his white blouse, over the chest, and fed Peter his semi hard cock. It was very fat, but not long. 

Peter began to suck enthusiastically at the stiffening cock, hoping to make Liu cum as soon as possible. Liu still said nothing. His cock was hard, but he gave no signs that he was enjoying Peter's attentions. He lackadaisically rocked backward and forward, pushing his cock in and out of Peter's mouth. 

Liu's phone buzzed and rang beside Peter, and he picked it up and answered it. Without removing his cock from Peter's mouth, Liu began talking on the phone about business, and supplies, but Peter could not understand what he said, and did he did not try to listen. Liu stood still while he spoke on the phone. Peter's jaw was sore, as was his head from dangling over the table edge upside down. He felt Liu's cock softening as he spoke on the phone, so he sucked more enthusiastically, and began to move his mouth up and down the shaft as much as he could from the position he was in. He wanted Liu to come as quickly as possible, and he did not want Liu to complain to Brian that Peter could not satisfy him.

Liu put down the phone and, still not removing his cock from Peter's inverted mouth, pressed the intercom and called someone into the room. His cock began to harden again, and he began to push back and forth into Peter's mouth. Someone entered the room, but he could not see who it was through the fabric of Liu's trousers. Liu spoke to this person for a while, no longer thrusting in and out of Peter's mouth. From the person's response, he realized that it was the manager. He kept sucking at Liu's cock, hoping that it would not soften, afraid of being punished by the manager if it did.

After about five minutes, Peter heard the door close, and realized that the manager had left the room. Liu held both of Peter's arms at the biceps, and began to fuck his Peter's mouth with firm deep thrusts. Peter gagged whenever Liu's cock went especially deep, and squirmed to escape, but with Liu pinning his arms he managed to resist pushing Liu away. Liu's balls were slapping his nose and eyes, and whenever Liu prolonged a deep thrust, the two balls pressed neatly into the sockets of Peter's eyes. Peter was drooling, and his eyes were watering. Liu began to grunt, and speed up his thrusting. Peter sucked urgently at Liu's cock, and moved his neck to make his mouth meet Liu's rhythm. Suddenly, Liu pushed in as deeply as he could, entering Peter's throat. The cock began to spasm as Liu shot his load. Peter swallowed again and again, and managed to get all of the cum down. Liu kept his cock in Peter's mouth as it began to soften, and Peter sucked out whatever cum remained. Liu kept Peter sucking at his soft cock for about five minutes, and then stepped back, put his cock and balls away, and zipped up his trousers.

"Ok," Liu said. "Not bad. You can get up now." 

Peter got himself off the table awkwardly. His face was red and his makeup was a mess. The taste of Liu's cock was strong in his mouth.

Liu laughed. "You are very good cocksucker." 

"Thank you, sir," Peter said, and dipped his head, as he had learned to do from the waitresses. He realized that he was still dressed in the waitress uniform.

"I tell Brian you very good. You can get change and go home now."

"Thank you, sir." Peter dipped his head and went to the door. He closed the door behind him, and went to the room in which he had left his own clothes. He saw the manager, and she just glanced at him with her unwaveringly strict expression. Two waitresses were in the room. They glared at him as he entered, but did not move. Peter collected his clothes and stood in a corner, with his back to the two seated waitresses. As he changed out of the waitress outfit, he heard them talking about him, but they spoke too quickly and he could understand little of what they said. All he really understood them say was "Aiyo! ta de pigu hen hong" -- my goodness, his ass is very red. After he was done, he folded up the uniform. There were stains from his drooling on the blouse. As he prepared to leave, Sunny came into the room. She looked cute and sexy now, dressed in her own clothes, though she looked at him coldly. She said to him: "You take your uniform home and wash it. We tell you when bring it back."

"Thank you, Ms," Peter said, gathering up the uniform. No one said anything to him, or even looked at him, as he left the restaurant. He was so tired. He drove home and went straight to bed. He could not sleep for quite a while though. His heart was heavy, and he could not help thinking that Cindy and Brian were together now, and that she would spend the night with him, and the day with him tomorrow, while Peter was at work.



Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 06



At work the next day, Peter couldn't get his thoughts together to focus on his tasks. He kept glancing at Cindy's grayed out name on the internal messenger service. He spent most of the day by the window of his office, staring out, his thoughts winding and weaving, terminating again and again in the same knotted images that he could not push past. Once, he had dreamed of being a poet, and now this is what he faced: only emptiness, and the distant, receding image of Cindy.

In the late afternoon, he received a text message from Master. It said: "Be at my apartment at 10 tomorrow morning. It is building 7, apt 0601. Make sure that you are clean shaven." That evening, Peter shaved his body thoroughly. Then he practiced the dance Laura had taught him. He regretted that he had not practiced it before now, as there was much of it that he could not remember, and he could not remember all of the numbered poses that Steve had shown him. He didn't know what to expect of tomorrow, but he knew that it would be a disaster if Laura and Steve were there, and if he was asked to perform Laura's dance in front of Cindy. Again, he had a hard time sleeping, as he was full of nerves.

He arrived outside the door of Brian's apartment at 9:45 the next morning. He waited in the stairwell, and then rapped the door at exactly 10:00. He stepped back against the opposite wall, hands behind his back. He could hear that someone was looking at him through the peephole, and then the door opened and Cindy stood looking at him, her expression blank and cold.

"Good morning, Cindy."

"Good morning, come in," she said without warmth. She stepped back from the door to let him enter, and then closed the door behind him.

He smiled at her softly, hoping for a glimmer of recognition from her eyes, but there was none. Her expression was totally closed to him. She was always warm and charming with all people: he had never seen her look this way at anyone. Then, with a searing wave of loss in his heart, he realized that she was not looking at him as a person, but as a slave. 

She handed him a piece of paper, and said "Brian give you this. These are your jobs for today." She was dressed casually, in her reading glasses, leggings, slippers and a long T-shirt, probably Brian's. Even such clothes though, could not hide her perfect figure, and Peter felt his cock begin to waken and rise at the nearness of her presence. 

Cindy walked through the apartment, and he followed her. She opened a door and said, "You change in here, and start the jobs on your list. Brian be back later." Her voice was business like. She stood holding the door of a small room open. When he hesitated, she raised one eyebrow and said "OK?" with some impatience.

"Thank you Cindy," he said as he entered the room. She said nothing, and closed the door behind him.

The maid's outfit he had worn at Laura's apartment was on the bed, along with the bottle of oil, and an envelope on which "faggot" was written by hand. He presumed the envelope was for him and he opened it. Inside was a Viagra tablet, and a note which said "take this now." He took the Viagra tablet, and then spread oil generously over his body. He put on the white garter, and then rolled the stockings up his smooth legs and connected the dangling straps from the garter belt to the stocking tops. He pulled on the skimpy, white silk panties. He pulled the maid's outfit over his head, and down over as much of his ass as he could. He fixed the blonde bob wig on his head. He looked over his list of chores. He would have to hand wash socks and underwear, wash the dishes, mop the floor, vacuum, clean countertops and dust.

He decided to wash the dishes first. He passed through the living room on his way to the kitchen. Cindy was seated at the dining table reading a book. He did not dare to glance at her as he passed, and he did not know if she looked at him or not. He washed the dishes, dried them and put them away. As he was scrubbing the kitchen counters, he heard Cindy's phone ring, and she answered it. He heard her speaking to someone in her charming and bubbly voice, but she was speaking in Chinese, and he could not make out what she was saying. His cock began to swell beneath his panties in response to the music of her voice.

Suddenly he heard her call out loudly and harshly: "Peter!" He put down the dishrag and hurried in to her. 

She stayed seated at the dining room table, and held out the phone toward him. "Brian want speak to you."

He approached her, took the phone and said, "Good morning, master."

"Are you kneeling?"

"No Master, sorry Master. I am kneeling now." Peter knelt down in front of Cindy, who remained seated at the dining table, one foot crossed over her shin. He admired the swelling, chalky whiteness of her calf. He glanced up at her gazing down at him through her librarian glasses, her lip curled in scorn. How he loved her! She was perfect! His cock was fully erect, and leaking pre cum. The tiny white panties only cupped his balls. His mouth was dry, and he felt as if his cock might shoot spontaneously, without a touch. There was a crazy, deep, nostalgic weight of lust in his belly, which reminded him of the feeling he had had when he was twelve years old, and had only just discovered masturbation.

"After I ask you to give the phone back to Cindy, I want you to go to the drawer beneath the TV, take out what you find there, and put it on the coffee table. Then, I want you to stand in the middle of the room, with your back to the sofa and your face to the TV. Slip off your maid's outfit, so that you are wearing only stockings, garters belt and panties. Kneel down, pull the front of your panties down under your balls. Then start stroking your cock, and don't stop stroking it until I tell you to stop. Do you understand?"

"Yes Master. I understand."

"Let me speak with Cindy now."

"Yes Master."

Cindy was looking down at her book, feigning indifference. Peter held the phone toward her and said "Brian wants to speak with you Cindy."

She glanced at him from behind her librarian glasses, still giving no sign of recognition, took the phone, looked again away from Peter and began to speak with Brian.

Peter went and opened the drawer beneath the TV. He was mortified to see a very small, bright pink cock cage, complete with padlock and key. He placed this on the coffee table, and then turned his back to the coffee table and his face to the TV, took a step forward to the centre of the room, and pulled the maid's outfit over his head. He knelt down on the hardwood floor, pulled his panties down under his balls, and began slowly stroking his already painfully hard cock.

Cindy had moved to the sofa behind him, and from the small sound of rattling, he realized that she had taken up the cock cage and was examining it. She was still speaking to Brian. "Shi shenma dongxi?" -- what is this thing.

She laughed at Brian's reply, and said "Aiyo! Wo de ma ya!" 

Brian spoke, and she replied "Yes. . .Yes, he's doing. . . Disgusting! Like animal. Like a pig. . .Hao, yi hour jian" -- good, see you later. Her voice was warm and bubbly. He heard the sound of her putting the phone down on the coffee table. 

Brian kept stroking his cock, so slowly, so carefully, and with such a weak grip. His right hand and his cock head, were gluey with oozing pre cum. A squelching liquid sound came from his cock as he stroked it. He had never been so hard in his life: he had never been so near to coming without being able; he was torn between agony and ecstasy. He could not help but wriggling his hips and ass with pleasure, despite the fact that Cindy, the love of his life, was there behind him, witnessing his lewd and sluttish exhibition. He could not see Cindy behind him. After a few minutes, she turned on the TV, and flicked through channels until she found a Korean soap opera.

Peter had abandoned himself to lust; he could hardly control the actions of his body. All of his self control was focused on resisting the urge to cum. His ass cheeks bounced up and down on his heels, and with his free hand he rubbed his balls and pinched his nipples; he began to whimper softly, until Cindy impatiently hissed "Shhhhh!" behind him. He tried then to control the whimpers and the panting, and he slipped his hand so loosely and slowly up and down his stiff and saturated cock. He could do nothing about the small squelching sound of his hand running over his cock, and this continued after he'd stopped whimpering, like the relentless squeaking of a mouse.

Peter was reduced to nothing but his awareness of Cindy's presence behind him, her eyes free to linger on his wantonness in secret, and the cyclone raging in his balls; the willpower required to hold back the rising tsunami of cum in his painfully tight nutsack. Cindy stood and passed him on her way to the kitchen. He felt the breeze from her passing stroke the nerves of his near naked body, which had risen up like sensitive sunflowers from all the pores of his body. He gazed after her buttocks, which were amazing even under an oversized T-shirt, and a string of spittle escaped his lips and hung from the bottom of his chin. 

Cindy came back into the room with a mug of green tea. She walked slowly toward him, looking down from behind her librarian glasses at his hand slowly stroking his cock. Her eyes were Siddhartha eyes, and her jaw was forward proudly. The sight of her there standing looking down at him brought him too close to cumming, and he released his cock. A string of pre cum connected his hand to his cock. His cock jumped around in front of him, its spasms continuing to force out of its eye the ooze of pre cum. Cindy stood staring down at his cock. Her cheeks began to flush. She looked up into Peter's eyes then, and said coolly, but with an edge of threat, "Brian tell you don't stop."

Peter groaned piteously. "Yes Cindy. Sorry Cindy," he panted, and resumed stroking, but with his hand limp and applying no grip, as he teetered on the brink of eruption. He was dizzy, and he thought he might faint. Cindy strolled casually past him, and resumed her seat on the sofa behind him.

After about fifteen minutes, the door opened and Brian entered. Cindy walked toward him, and Peter stopped stroking his cock. "Keep going," Brian commanded crossly, and Peter resumed moving his loose grip over his shaft. Cindy approached Brian and lifted herself up on her toes as he lowered his head to kiss her on the lips. He put his arm around her waist and they both stood looking at Peter. 

Cindy said, in her rich, sweet, throaty voice, "He stop once. I tell him keep going."

Brian chuckled, and then cleared his throat, so that Peter looked up at him. He was pointing at his shoes. Peter crawled over toward Brian's shoes. "Don't stop!" Brian scolded harshly, and Peter resumed stroking his cock as he crawled toward Master's shoes. Cindy giggled. Peter kept tugging himself as he kissed Master's shoes passionately, watching Cindy's shoes beside Brian's out of the corner of his eyes, and kissing Brian's shoes amorously in the way that he wished he could kiss Cindy's shoes. He was so horny, fucking his white panty clad ass back against the air, as he licked and kissed at Master's shoes.

"Enough. Stand up," Brian commanded.

Peter stood and faced Brian and Cindy. He continued to stroke at his cock, and he could not help but squirm his hips wantonly as he did so. Cindy's face was happy and radiant again, and it was all for Brian. From behind her glasses her happy eyes watched Peter with curiosity. Her rich, sexy lips, lips made for kissing, were smiling. All for Brian.

Brian took from his pocket a thin pink collar, a large version of the type of collar that cats wear. There was rhinestone lettering on this, but Peter could not make out what it said before Brian stepped behind him and fastened it to his neck. Peter kept tugging himself slowly as Brian again stood beside Cindy, and she stepped closer to him and read out "cocksucker." Her pronunciation was strange and cute, and Brian chuckled to hear her say it. She giggled to hear him chuckle. Brian lifted the name tag that dangled from the front of the collar, and she stepped closer and squinted through her librarian glasses to read what it said. 

"Faggot?" she asked.

"Faggot," he said, correcting her pronunciation.

Cindy was so close to Peter now. He could smell her, and he could see all the wondrous details of her features. He noticed that she had tiny freckles at either side of her nose. The slow steady squelching of his cock slowed and stopped as he ceased stroking at it, afraid that he would shoot at the puff of a breeze. With Master and Cindy standing there so close in front of him, his sperm would get all over them. Master glared at him menacingly, so Peter ran one finger slowly up and down his shaft. Cindy looked down at his cock, and she prolonged her gaze as her cheeks flushed. Master gave Peter as nasty sneer as he noticed this. 

Cindy, realizing that she had prolonged her gaze at Peter's cock too long, looked away, smiled at Brian and said, "'faggot' shi shenma yisi?" -- what does faggot mean.

Brian explained in Chinese, and Cindy hmmphed and said "Yes, that's right," with finality.

"Back to your spot and keep tugging," Master said to Peter.

Peter crawled back to his place in the center of the room, facing the TV, and continued stroking his cock delicately. Cindy and Brian went and sat on the sofa behind him. Cindy was asking about the cock cage in Chinese, and Peter was explaining this to her in Chinese, but Brian could not understand much of what was said.

"Ok, faggot," Brian said. "Get your nose in the corner."

Peter, still running his fingers lightly over his stiff cock, crawled over to the corner, put his nose into the corner, and kept stroking his cock. His ass was humping back against the air, his hips were squirming wantonly.

"I am going to let you come in a minute, faggot. After that, you take your maid's outfit and the cock cage down to your room, and put them both on. Use cold water and oil on your cock. Do what you have to do to get it in. When you have the maid's outfit and the cock cage on, come back out and give me the key.

"Oh yes sir, thank you sir," he gasped desperately. He was squirming in the corner like a snake, running his free hand over his balls, down through the crack of his ass, over his nipples. Cindy and Master both giggled to see his wanton, sluttish display.

"Cindy, get the faggot some toilet paper, would you."

Peter heard Cindy pass behind him. She returned a few minutes later with a length of toilet paper wrapped neatly around her hand. "Here you are," she said without warmth.

"Put that down and cum on it," Master said.

Peter turned to take the paper and looked up into Cindy's eyes beseechingly. Her eyes were shining, but they were closed to him, and showed him no recognition. He quickly put the paper beneath his cock and, still holding Cindy's gaze, groaned from the depth of his being, and began to shudder and erupt from his cock. Cindy stayed long enough to see the first powerful squirt, and then turned and went back to the table.

"Nose to the corner!" Master shouted, and Peter pushed his face back in into the corner, as his body shuddered, jolted, twitched and shook. Master and Cindy giggled, and exchanged comments in Chinese that Peter could not understand, that he did not even try to understand. He seemed to cum ceaselessly for at least a minute, and then he knelt there limply, panting. 

"Go and get changed now," Master said impatiently, "and dispose of the tissue."

Peter could not look up at them as he gathered the soaked tissue, the maid's outfit and the cock cage from the coffee table in front of them. His face was scarlet with shame.

He went to the washroom, and looked at the bright pink cock cage. There was a yellow happy face prominent on its front. He felt sick to think that an object with such cruel intentions could look so cute, like a child's toy. He undid the lock, and took it apart. His cock was soft now, but still very thick and heavy. He took the shower faucet, and ran cold water over his cock and balls until they shrank. He closed the ring of the devise at the root of his cock, behind his shaven balls. He rubbed oil on his cock, and then pushed the tube of the device up over it. He connected the top of the ring to the top of the tube with the pin, and then locked these together with the padlock. He looked down at his cock, and he felt so sorry for himself. His big cock, his pride and joy, the cock that had made Cindy's cheeks flush, was gone now: in its place was this cute and harmless pink flower. Brian's victory was complete.

He put on the maid's outfit, tidied it, and refastened his garter straps. He went back into the living room. Cindy and Brian were sitting on the sofa, and they stopped talking as he entered the room, and stood in front of them with his head down.

"Give me the keys," Brian said.

Peter flung himself to his knees, and lowered his forehead to the floor in the traditional Chinese posture of supplication. "Please, master, let me give the keys to Cindy. I beg you Master."

"Bu yao!" -- don't want, Cindy stated harshly.

"Stand up," Brian said strictly. Peter stood, and then Brian said, with insistence, "Keys."

Peter reached under his apron and skirt, and took the keys from the padlock. He handed these to Master. Master took them, threaded them on to his keychain, and then put his keychain back in his pocket.

"Let's see it," Master said.

Peter raised his apron and skirt, and stood there meekly exposing himself to them. He continued looking down, and he could see the pink device with its yellow smiley face, nestled sweetly between his frilly stockings and garter straps. Cindy giggled, and moved forward on the sofa to get a better look. He glanced at her face, and she seemed curious and amused, but her cheeks were not flushed. Clearly she had been taken in by the pink color and the smiley face, and she did not recognize the menace of this device. With a rich, giggling voice, she asked Brian excited questions about the device in Chinese, which Peter could not understand. She reached out and touched it once, and Peter groaned. The combination of the Viagra in his system, Cindy's proximity, and the music of her giggling voice had made his poor cock attempt to grow. He felt physical pain, and sense of spiritual futility to recognize that he was no longer a man. He wanted so much to start tugging at his cock again, to weave a sheet of pleasure around himself by stroking his cock, but he could not. He felt so sorry for himself, so utterly defeated.

On hearing his groan, Cindy began to ask Brian more amused questions in Chinese, and he offered her explanations, as Peter stood there holding up his skirt and his apron, presenting himself meekly to the woman he loved, and the man who now controlled him. From what Brian said, Peter could only understand the Chinese name for the eunuchs who served the masters wives. Cindy nodded her head and smiled when he said this, exquisite dimples appearing in her cheeks, revealing the secret understandings of her otherness. 

He continued to hold up his skirt and apron, presenting himself to them, as Cindy again sat back in the sofa, her curiosity satisfied, and Brian addressed him. "Peter, you have made a few mistakes this weekend. . .You look at me when I'm speaking to you. . . If you recall, you begged me to let you be my slave. Cindy was there when you begged me, and she saw this, didn't you Cindy?"

Cindy was watching Brian as he spoke, and only occasionally glancing at Peter's cock cage, and at his shamed face. Her expression was serious and formal. "Yes, I did. He begged you." She looked up at Peter as she said this, and though her expression remained mostly blank, she lifted one eyebrow just a bit, as if to say: "This is what you wanted, this is what you get."




Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 06



Brian continued: "If you want to be my slave, I will give you that chance, but don't forget what you are asking me to do. Don't pretend I am the bad guy here: I'm only doing you a favor. I don't need a slave. You are the pervert, the faggot, who begged me to help you."

Cindy was nodding in agreement, her jaw set forward firmly.

"If you want to be a slave, I will treat you like a slave. If you don't want to be a slave, just say the word and it is finished. What will it be?"

Peter was utterly abashed, utterly humbled. Still holding up his skirt to present himself, he squeaked: "I want to be your slave, Master." 

Cindy' lip lifted at one side in disgust, and she looked back at Brian and nodded her head, as if to say "it's like you said." Brian and Cindy exchanged eye contact for a few moments, and then Master said "If you want to be my slave, you will need to follow my rules. You have made a few mistakes recently, and you will be sent to Laura to be punished for this. Cindy will give you the details on Monday." Cindy looked up at Peter strictly, and he met her merciless gaze for a moment, before looking back at Master.

"Now," Master continued, "you can get back to work, and finish your chores. Cindy and I will be going out in a while, and we won't be back till later. You can let yourself out when you're done, and lock the door behind you. If you're hungry, you can make yourself a sandwich. When you're ready to leave, there's a grey tracksuit in the room where you found your outfit. Wear this over your maid's outfit when you go home. In the future, you will be responsible for keeping your slave things clean, and when you are asked to visit someone as my slave, you will travel there with the maids outfit under the grey tracksuit you have been given. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master," Peter said meekly.

"Ok, now get to work."

"Thank you Master." Peter curtsied to Cindy and Brian, and then went to hand wash Brian's socks and underpants. Cindy and Brian went to the bedroom for a while. From the occasional sound of giggles, Peter presumed that they were making love. His poor cock attempted to rise, but was immediately chastened by the confines of the pink device.

After some time, Cindy and Brian came out of the bedroom. Cindy was dressed casually, in a blouse, tight, faded jeans and short leather boots. She was ravishing. Since she had been with Brian, she had begun to pay more attention to her appearance, and the beauty that Peter had always thought was hidden, that he felt he had found through his own acute powers of observation, was no longer a secret, but was obvious to anyone who saw her. She was so far out of Peter's league.

Cindy and Brian came and stood in front of Peter, and Peter put down the mop and stood to attention. Cindy was smiling, revealing an exquisite map of dimples. Peter's cock attempted to raise itself again, and it seemed to rage blindly inside the cage. It was such sweet pain for him to see Cindy. He was afraid of her, and at the same time he longed only for her. 

"Just remember to lock up when you finish. Have a nice day."

Peter curtsied and said "Thank you, Master."

Cindy looked him in the eye, and smiled like a cat, but said nothing. Brian and Cindy left the room. He saw for a moment Cindy's perfect, arrogant ass before the door closed behind them. Peter wanted so much to start tugging at his cock again. His heart felt so heavy when he realized that he could not.

After a while, he snuck into Master's bedroom. He found a pair of Cindy's panties in the corner. He put these to his face, and breathed deeply. Her aroma was earthy and intoxicating. His cock began to grow, causing him terrible pain. He was torn between the pain and the need to smell Cindy's underpants. He pressed the panties to his face, while he groaned and cried from the pain in his frustrated and blindly raging cock. More than anything he needed to pump his cock until he came, but he could not. Oh, the cruel irony of this yellow happy face!

He could bear the pain no more, and he put the panties down, and went to complete his tasks. He recognized that only work would set him free; that only by losing himself in his chores could he avoid the agony of his cock swelling in its cage. He was utterly chastened: he truly was a slave. 

He finished his work, and put the ragged, baggy grey track suit on over his maid's outfit. He put the wig and the cock sucker collar in a bag, and carried these with him. He locked the door behind himself, and went home.

That night, and Sunday night, he could not sleep. He just rolled around and around in his bed, agonizing over his wretched condition.



Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 07



On Monday morning, Peter sat in his office waiting for Cindy to log on to the internal message system. His cock had begun to resign itself to its caged condition, and was not raging as furiously against its confines. This seemed to have affected his mood, as he now felt somewhat meek, peaceful and resigned.

Cindy logged on, and he sat waiting for her to send him his tasks for the day. He poked around at a long term project for about an hour, and then received two documents from Cindy, accompanied by a message saying "please proofread these for me, Thx."

Peter opened the documents that Cindy had sent. They had been written in the style that Peter had taught Cindy to use for her administration duties. There were a number of errors typical of Cindy's writing, resulting from a combination of laziness and unfamiliarity with the language, and Peter corrected the wording, the spelling and the formatting, to produce the following:

Punishment Administration Form 

Punishment application made by:
Reason for punishment:
Punishment to be administered by:
Date and Time:
Location:
Nature of punishment:

Comments on Peter's behavior during punishment:

Signature of punishment administrator:

Slave Loan Satisfaction Form

Agreement for loaning of Peter made by:
Peter has been loaned to: 
Date and Time:
Services performed by Peter:

Comments on Peter's behavior:

Signature of borrower:

When he had completed correcting these documents, he sent them back to Cindy through the internal messenger service.

About fifteen minutes later, Cindy walked into his office without knocking. He stood to greet her. She was dressed professionally. She wore a black skirt to just above her knees, black leather boots that covered her calves, black nylons, a black blazer and a white blouse. Her hair was tied back, and she wore her glasses. She carried a few folders.

"Good morning, Peter," she said in a friendly way. She sat down on the sofa beside his desk, but did not ask him to sit, so he stayed standing, facing her. "Are you comfortable?" she asked, glancing down at his crotch with a trace of a smirk, and then raising her eyes to meet his, her jaw set and defiant in its neutrality, her eyes twinkling and taunting with a trace of mockery.

Peter looked down in shame. Her legs were crossed, and he looked at her nylon covered knees, and the first few inches of her thighs.

"No Cindy. It is very difficult." 

"Maybe you get used to it." He looked up to meet her eyes. There was a trace of pity in her expression, and then her face dimpled in its warmest of smiles. This smile caused Peter's cock to swell uncomfortably in its cage, and he let out a sigh of frustration and discomfort. He realized that Cindy's beauty was now a menace to him, that she was dangerous to him. It seemed as though she felt free to smile at him in a friendly way that he had not seen since the first night of slavery, because she realized this too. She seemed to be more at her ease with him now that he was less than a man.

"You can sit down," she said warmly, with her strange, charming voice, which was both deep and high at once, running through all the spectrum of sound.

Peter sat, and Cindy opened one of the folders, and handed him a company envelope and half an A4 page. (Cindy believed in saving paper.) The page was a punishment application form, and the details had been filled out in pen, in Cindy's handwriting.

Punishment Administration Form 

Punishment application made by: Cindy

Reason for punishment: Peter two times tell Cindy he love her, and do not give up on Cindy like he promise Brian.

Punishment to be administered by: Laura

Date and Time: 07/09/02 6:00 pm

Location: Laura's apartment

Nature of punishment: 20 hits with cane. 20 hits with hair brush.

Comments on Peter's behavior during punishment:

Signature of punishment administrator:

As he was looking at this, Cindy spoke to him in a soft and comforting tone. "Brian ask me fill this form out. You need take it to Laura tonight. When she finish punish you, let her put the finish form in envelope. Brian want her sign her name where she close envelope, so you can't open before give me back tomorrow. That OK?"

He looked back to her. She was so beautiful and proud; his heart felt as though it flipped in his chest. "Yes Cindy," he said meekly. His love for her was his only reason for being. The cock cage felt uncomfortable, and he shifted his position in the chair. She seemed to understand that the cage was hurting him, and her face dimpled in a compassionate smile. She was leaning back in the sofa, her legs crossed, her boots pointing toward him. He wanted to throw himself down on his knees and kiss her shiny boots, but he did not dare. He let out a little whimper, and looked up again to her face, his eyes pleading mutely for mercy.

"Laura say you won't be able to sit down for the next few days," she said with a tender smile. She held his eyes with her Siddhartha eyes, looking inside him, curious to know how he felt as he began to understand the reality of his position as a slave. "I advise you don't make her angry."

"Thank you Cindy."

"Brian want you dress in maid outfit when you go to see Laura, and wear clothes he gave you over top." 

Peter nodded, and when a trace of firmness entered her pleasant expression, he said "Yes, Cindy." The firmness left her face and she smiled. 

She mused for a moment, gazing at him. "Those gray clothes so ugly. That why Peter want you wear them. You know this?"

"Yes Cindy, I know that."

She stared at him for a few moments. "How much money do you have?"

"I only have 100 left."

"That not bad." She opened her wallet, and took out some money. "Now I give you 1000. Maybe that can last two weeks."

"Thank you, Cindy." He took the money that she handed him, and then she stood up and put a notebook open on the desk beside him. She was so close to him, and he could smell her body. He felt a pain in his poor cock, and squirmed in his chair.

"You sign here for this money." She leaned over the desk beside him, and her tits were near his head. If he turned his head they would be in his face... He squirmed in his chair uncomfortably. Now, her nearness was a menace to him. He thought of the horrible pink tube, and its yellow smiley face.

He took the pen she handed him, and signed for the one thousand RMB. She took the notebook back, and held out her hand for the pen, which he handed to her, admiring her perfect, varnished nails. She stepped back toward the door. He stood and faced her, to see her out. 

"Remember," she said, "you need be there at 6:00 this evening. Maybe you need leave here early."

"Yes Cindy." 

She held open the door, and turned back to him. She said, with a trace of pity under a business like expression. "Last time we only give you ten beats with cane. Tonight is 40. Maybe hard for you." She compressed her lips, and exhaled through her nostrils in an expression of concern, tempered by determination. "This what you want. I don't feel sorry for you. You can't blame someone else." She met his eyes, and smiled at him sadly, like a concerned friend. She said softly, and sincerely, "Good luck," as she left the room, and closed the door behind her.

Through the rest of the morning, he received quite a bit of work from Cindy through the internal message system. At 4:00, he sent her a message saying "Hi Cindy, may I please go home now. I have quite a few things to do."

After several minutes, she replied "OK."

He left the office at 4:15. He needed to hurry home, shave his body and get changed. He knew how Laura would react if he wasn't thoroughly shaved. As he passed Cindy's office, he heard talking and laughing. The door was open, and he dared only glance in. Cindy and some of the Chinese girls were chatting and giggling with some of the young, foreign male members of staff. He kept his head down, and hurried on.

He left his car and walked toward Laura's apartment. Young, well dressed people sneered at his ragged grey track suit. He noticed some foreign guys pointing him out to their Chinese girlfriends, and these girls assuming expressions of distaste. He knocked on Laura's door at 6:00 exactly. When she opened the door, his heart quavered to see her menacing expression. She obviously did not like him. Laura was wearing tight shorts and a tight T-shirt. Her legs were smooth, and her tits huge. She really had the body of a porn star. She glared at him saying nothing, so he handed her the note and the envelope, and said in the false female falsetto she had taught him to use, "Cindy asked me to give this to you."

She snapped it from his hand, and said sharply, "Go change," pointing at the small room. 

"Yes, Ms." He walked to the room in the simpering, wiggling way that she had taught him to walk. He noticed that a straight backed wooden chair had already been placed in the center of the room. Steve was seated on the sofa, drinking a foreign beer from a long necked bottle. There were two empties and another full bottle on the coffee table in front of him.

"You don't need the maid's outfit," she called after him.

He closed the door behind him, and took off the grey tracksuit. He took off as well the maid's outfit, leaving him only in stockings, panties, suspenders and the pink cock cage with its yellow smiley face. He put on the blonde bob wig, and then the pink cocksucker collar. He stepped into the white sandals. He was trembling with fear and anticipation.

He stepped back into the room. Laura and Steve were both seated on the sofa now. "I'm ready," Peter said softly. He curtsied. He needed Laura to be merciful. 

Laura said "There," and pointed at a spot in the center of the room.

He stood at the spot Laura had indicated, meekly waiting. Laura took a mannish swig from her bottle of beer, and then came over to him. She walked around Peter, inspecting him. She lifted the heart shaped tag that hung from his collar, and said to Steve, "It says faggot."

"How very apt," Steve said drolly, and took another swig of his beer.

Laura tugged down Peter's white panties to his knees. "Bend over and hold your ankles." He complied, and then she spread his ass cheeks with two fingers.

"You haven't shaved well enough back here," she said crossly. "This will go in my report."

"I'm sorry, Ms," Peter squeaked, his head near the floor.

Without asking him to straighten up, she went and took something from a drawer, and came back and sat on the straight backed chair.

"Get over here" she said.

Peter straightened up, and hobbled toward her as femininely as possible with the thin white panties stretched between his knees. She held in one hand a heavy wooden hairbrush. He stood in front of her, and she took a hold of his pink cock cage. "Very cute," she said with disdain. She patted her lap, and said, "Get over my knees."

Peter laid himself over her lap. His cock cage rested against her bare leg. She pushed him forward, so his head was near the floor, and he was resting his upper body weight on his hands. She encircled his waist tightly with her free arm. 

"Keep count," she said.

"Yes Ms," Peter said timidly.

The crack of the hairbrush was loud and stinging. She alternated between the two cheeks, striking exactly the same part on each cheek: low, and central, the part for sitting. The pain became more and more intense as she proceeded. The two spots on his ass felt as though they were on fire. When he squirmed, she cancelled the previous blow, so that all in all he received about twenty five swats of the hairbrush.

When she finished, she stood up, and he rolled onto the floor, and he stayed on his knees. He rubbed desperately at the two burning patches on his ass. His panties were still around his knees. He face was scarlet, from pain and shame.

Laura went and got the cane. She walked toward him, and whistled the cane in the air. He cringed in fear.

"Shall we get started immediately with the cane, or would you like a few moments to compose yourself," Laura said with false fairness. 

"Please give me a few moments, Ms," Peter whimpered, terrified by the sharp whistling of the cane through the air.

Laura nodded, and went and sat on the sofa beside Steve. "Pull your knickers back up and dance for us. She lifted the remote control, and flicked through the start of a few songs before stopping at a bouncy number by Kiley Minogue: Can't Get You Out Of My Heart. 

Peter pulled up the tiny panties, and began to perform the dance Laura had taught him.

Laura and Steve kept calling out instructions. "Smile. . . Look like your enjoying yourself. . . Put more feeling into it. . . Arch your back. . . Be sexy. . ."

Peter did his best, bending, stretching, wiggling, humping, pumping, blowing kisses over his shoulder, and sucking his finger with a big smile.

When he did his lap dance for Steve, Steve pushed the head of one of the empties between the cheeks of his ass, pressing Peter's panties against his anus. He had Peter lick the tip of the bottle, wink and smile.

While giving Laura her lap dance, when he turned his back to her and wiggled his ass, she slowly stripped his panties down his shaven legs as far as his ankles. She said, "Step out of those and turn around." He turned around to face her, and she was holding a long feather. "Spread your legs. Wider. Keep grinding your hips. Keep smiling." 

She began to tickle his balls softly with the feather. While she did this, and he ground his hips and smiled, she whispered softly, secretively: "Cindy and Brian are spending a lot of time together recently. I guess they're together now. They suit each other. Cindy is really glowing these days. Don't you think they make a good couple?"

"Yes Ms," Peter whimpered.

Peter's cock began to swell within the cage, pushing the sleeve down along the lengthening shaft toward the head. This in turn pulled the ring behind his balls forward painfully. His stomach hurt, as though he had been kicked in the balls. He sighed and groaned softly with pain, but did his best to comply when Laura told him to keep grinding his hips, to keep smiling.

She continued tickling his balls with the feather, and continuing to whisper secrets to Peter: "You didn't think you could keep a star like Cindy hidden away in your silly little company did you? That girl is made for better things. Maybe she's kissing him now. Imagine kissing Cindy, those big luscious lips were made for kissing. Maybe they're fucking now. Think how nice that must be for Brian, how warm, soft and wet inside. How does your cock feel now in that hard little tube?"

He had stopped grinding and smiling. His eyes were clenched tight in pain, and he was whimpering. 

"Are you ready for the next 20?" Laura asked. 

"Oh, yes, please Ms."

Steve and Laura laughed to hear his enthusiasm.

"Right," Laura said, standing up, cane in hand. "Bend over and touch your toes."

As with the hairbrush, she had him count, and when he squirmed, or stood up, she did not count that stroke, so that he received about twenty seven strokes in total. He was crying after twenty, and sobbing after twenty seven. 

"Put on your knickers," Laura said. As he did this, she went to the dining room table, and began to fill in the punishment application form. When his panties were up, he stood there waiting for her to complete the form, still sobbing gently. She looked up at him harshly, and said, "Quit your winging. Be a man about it. You're becoming more and more like a little girl."

"Don't do the crime if you can't do the time," Steve called over.

"Do you know why you were punished this evening?" Laura asked.

Still snuffling, Peter replied, "Because I didn't give up on Cindy, and I told her that I loved her twice."

"That's right." She handed him the envelope with the letter inside.

"Cindy says you should sign your name across the seam where it is sealed," Peter said weakly.

Laura signed the envelope, and then handed it to him. As he took it from her, she said "What do you say?"

"Thank you, Ms."

"Go and get changed and go home, and don't let me see you here again for the same reason. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ms."

Peter changed and went home. He could not sleep. His ass and the backs of his thighs were searing. He looked at them in the mirror, and he felt so sorry for himself.

The next morning, Cindy came into his office at about 10:00 am. She looked stunning. She was wearing a short skirt that came to about the level of her mid thighs, and light nylons. Her thighs looked so rich and full. She wore shiny black leather ankle length boots, and a black, cashmere turtle neck sweater that showed off her full breasts. Her hair was tied back tight and sleek, and she wore her librarian glasses. When she entered the room, Peter was standing beside the desk.

She looked at him distantly, but there was a trace of pity behind the blank mask.

"Are you ok," she asked tenderly. "You don't look very good."

"I'm ok Cindy, thank you. I am quite sore."

"Is that why you aren't sitting down?" 

"Yes," he said quietly.

She pursed her beautiful lips, causing exquisite dimples to appear at either side of her lips.

"You can go home and have a rest today," she said tenderly. "If I need you I can send you message."

"Thank you, Cindy."

She sat down on the sofa, and crossed her legs. "Did Laura give you back form?"

"Yes, Cindy. Here it is." He handed it to her, and stepped back.

She opened the envelope, pushed up her glasses with one finger, and began to read Laura's report. She said nothing while she read it, and showed no expression. As she read, he watched her. Her thighs seemed so soft, so warm and so smooth. He wanted more than anything to throw himself down on his knees before her, and worship with his kisses her boots, her calves, her knees and her thighs, to push his face up under her skirt to what lay between her thighs. His cock began to swell, tugging his balls downward uncomfortably. Her face was so perfect, the face of a god. His stomach was sick with the pain in his balls: her beauty, what he valued more than anything in the world, was a threat to him.

She put the form back in the envelope, and placed it on the sofa beside her. She looked up at Peter with some tenderness in her Siddhartha eyes. "Brian said you always wear that thing," she said, gesturing with a nod at his crotch, "will make you smaller down there. You know that's what he want?"

She remained silent, holding his eyes, so that he realized the question was not hypothetical.

"Yes, Cindy, I know."

She sighed, and pursed her lips again. "This isn't good for you. You should stop this. Say you don't want be his slave anymore."

Peter was tired, it had been so hard. He looked down, and then up again to her eyes. "If I am not Brian's slave anymore, can we be friends again, like we used to be."

She looked down in thought, and then back into his eyes, her expression cooler now. "I don't know. Maybe. Maybe no. You need to stop thinking about me the way you do."

Peter exhaled deeply, and looked down, and then up again to meet her eyes. "Cindy, please, I can't stop. . . Please, Cindy, I love you so much. . ."

She stood, with a look of fury flashing in her eyes. "Again! You say again?"

"Oh Cindy, please. . . I can't stop. . . "

"I will tell Brian what you say. He will be so angry."

"Please Cindy, don't. . . "

"Brian is my boyfriend. I tell him everything. I keep no secrets from my boyfriend. Between you and him not my business. If he can't stop you say these things, I will leave here and find work somewhere else!"

Peter fell to his knees, and tears began to flow. "Please don't Cindy, I won't do it again, I'm sorry."

"You too late. I don't know what Brian do to you this time. Not my business." She snatched up the envelope from the sofa, and went to the door. She looked back at him whimpering on his knees, and said. "You go home now. Think about what you did."




Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 07



She stepped out of the room, and slammed the door behind her.

Peter went home. His regrets tied themselves around him like evil grasses, and he could find no peace, no ability to purge Cindy's image from his mind's eye, and no strength to renounce his absolute devotion to her. At about 7:00 in the evening he received a text message from Brian that read: "Do not wish for things that are not yours."

His ass was less tender the next day, and he was seated at the desk working on the tasks that Cindy had assigned him over the internal messenger service, when Cindy walked into the room. She came up behind him, and placed a half A4 paper on his keyboard. He could smell her fragrance, a scent that was earthy, full of deep undertones, and yet more exquisite than any perfume. He looked up at her, her breast and her face so close to his. She scowled at him and tapped the page she had handed him. He looked down at it. The blanks had been completed in Cindy's handwriting. 

Slave Loan Satisfaction Form

Loaning of Peter made by: Cindy

Peter has been loaned to Steve 

Date: 11/09/02 from 6:00 pm to 6:00 am.

Services performed by Peter:

Comments on Peter's obedience:

Signature of borrower:

Peter finished reading, and then turned to face Cindy, who stood in front of him, towering over him. She wore a cruel smile, and in her eyes was a mocking glint. "You can wait for Steve outside of Luga's Villa on Thursday at 6:00," she said brusquely. "Make sure you dress right. Brian want you wear pink collar to meet Steve. You have to be his slave all night. That OK?"

"Yes Cindy, thank you," Peter said humbly.

Cindy curled her lip in disgust. "You need learn. If Brian can't stop you say those things to me, I leave my job. Understand?"

"Yes Cindy. I'm sorry Cindy."

She stared down at him threateningly, and he did not look away. He thought she might slap him, and he so wished she would.

"Here is envelope," she said, tossing it on his desk. "Same thing. Steve sign after he close it. Understand?" She spoke to him as though he were someone very stupid. He imagined her tits were both firm and soft. His cock began to stir.

"Yes, Cindy, I understand."

She turned and left the room. With worship in his heart, he watched her proud, full ass until she closed the door behind herself

He would show her. His absolute devotion could make him bear anything for her.

Cindy let Peter off early on Thursday through the internal message system. Peter found a parking spot in front of Luga's Villa at 5:30, and sat waiting for Steve. His body was oiled and shaved, and he wore the maid's outfit under the ragged grey track suit. He work the pink 'cocksucker' collar, with its heart shaped 'faggot' tag.

At ten past six, Peter saw Steve walking down the street with three other guys. They were joking and laughing. Steve looked around and then noticed Peter's car. He led the other three over, and they all piled in. They were high spirited and boisterous. Steve did not introduce Peter, but took the tag of the collar and showed it to the guys in the back seat. "Hey, faggot," said a young American with spiky hair and a goatee. "Hey, faggot," the others laughed.

"Drive, faggot," Steve said.

"Yes, sir," Peter, replied, and drove on. He followed Steve's directions. Steve had obviously already explained who Peter was, so there were no explanations, and he was for the most part ignored. The three guys in the back seat were very boisterous, and Peter felt nervous and intimidated. Eventually, they pulled up in front of a KTV hostess bar. 

"Wait for us here, faggot. Keep your phone nearby. I'll message you if I need you." Steve said to Peter, and then the four men got out of the car and went into the KTV. As they walked away, Peter could hear their harsh words of mockery.

After about an hour, Peter received a text message from Steve, saying: "come in." He approached the gaudy lights of the KTV, and at the door there was a hostess waiting for him. She was dressed in a red chi pa, and she her hair was tied up. The chi pa was slit very high up the sides of her slim legs, and she wore flesh colored stockings. She wrinkled her nose in distaste at his ragged grey tracksuit and pink collar, and said, in very poor English, "Please follow me." He followed her swaying hips down a maze of corridors. From the rooms to either side, he could hear loud music, singing and laughter. When he passed waiters in flouncy yellow shirts, and hostesses in short skirts, they stopped and stared at him.

The hostess in the red chi pa opened the door to a broom closet, and gestured for him to enter. She said, "Please. . . chuang yifu," and made a gesture suggesting taking off clothes. He entered the broom closet, and she closed the door behind him. He took off the grey sweat suit, put on the blonde wig, and slipped off his shoes. He stepped into his white, high heeled sandals. He was now in his maids outfit, garter, and nylons. He rolled his shoes up inside the grey tracksuit, and tucked these under his arm. He took a deep breath and opened the door of the broom closet. The hostess in the red chi pa was chatting to a sexy girl in a very short skirt. The girl in the red chi pa looked at him with distaste, and the girl in the short skirt looked at him with amusement. The girl in the red chi pa took the track suit and shoes from him. She said "bu yao zhega" -- don't want these -- and put them on a shelf in the broom closet. 

The girl in the short skirt said "halloo," with the accent of a person who had no English at all.

Peter replied "Hello Ms," and the girl in the short skirt laughed and made some comment in Chinese that he could not understand. The girl in the red chi pa looked at him with impatience and said "Please follow me." As he hurried down the corridor after her swaying hips, trying to re accustom himself to the high heels, the girl in the short skirt giggled behind him.

They turned a few corners, and then the girl in the red chi pa opened a door and said "please," gesturing for him to enter. Steve's three young friends were sitting around a u-shaped sofa, with a coffee table in the middle. There were bottles and glasses of beer, ashtrays and cigarettes, and bowls of nuts, seeds and dried fruit on the table. Beside each of the young men sat very sexy Chinese girls, two in skirts, and two in denim shorts. They wore skimpy tops that revealed their cleavage and their bellies. The young men and the girls had paired off, and the girls were sitting very close to the boys. 

One girl sat alone, and Steve stood speaking to a Chinese guy in a suit. The Chinese guy in the suit looked at Peter dubiously, and Steve pressed a few pink 100 RMB notes into his hand. "Xing, Xing," – ok, ok -- the Chinese guy said, and then went to the door. He pulled a screen down over the window that was set in the door, and left the room, closing the door behind him. Steve went and sat back down beside the hostess that was with him. 

Peter stood facing the eight seated people humbly. The girls giggled, and curled their noses, and moved a bit closer to the men they were with. It was though seeing him there made them appreciate the company of the normal men they were with more. They all stared at him. Steve spoke to the girls in Chinese, and they all said "Xie xie" -- thank you -- enthusiastically.

He spoke to Peter then. "Tonight, the girls here are going to get to be customers instead of hostesses. You will light cigarettes, change ashtrays, make sure beers glasses are topped up, and keep empties off the table. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," Peter said. 

Peter was kept very busy. When anyone reached for a cigarette, he hurried over with a lighter. When a beer glass was more empty than full, he refilled it. When a bottle was empty, he removed it from the table. When an ashtray was full of sunflower seed shells, or cigarette butts, he changed it.

Shortly after he started serving the table, the girl with Steve noticed the bruises and welts on the backs of his thighs, and asked Steve about these in Chinese. Steve had Peter turn around, bend over and lift his skirt, so that they could all see his ass, covered only by the small v of his frilly, semi transparent panties. The girls gathered around, going "waaah," in amazement. He felt their manicured nails gently tracing the ridges of the welts on his thighs, and even his ass cheeks. The girls asked Steve eager questions in Chinese, and he replied. Peter could not understand much of what was being said, but he heard one girl say "zhen hao" -- really good. 

After a few minutes, Steve said to Peter, "Stand up and turn around. Lift your skirt." Peter turned to face everyone, and lifted his skirt and apron. Steve pulled his panties halfway down his thighs, so Peter stood there revealing the pink cock cage with its yellow smiley face, nestled between frilly white garter straps and frilly white stocking tops. Everyone roared with laughter, the girls falling down into the laps of the boys they were with. Even the boys forgot their cool postures for a few moments, and broke up in laughter. When the eruption of laughter subsided, the girls asked Steve eager questions in Chinese, and the boys asked questions in English. Steve patiently answered all questions, while Peter stood in front of them, skirt and apron lifted, humbly exposing his pink cock cage. One of the girls reached and took the cock cage in her hand. "ting ke ai" -- really cute -- she said, as though she was talking about a puppy dog.

When they had satisfied their curiosity, Steve told Peter to get back to work. As he lit cigarettes, poured beers and cleared ashtrays, he noticed that the sexual tension in the room had risen as a result of his presence. He was not the object of this tension, but his display had freed the sexual desire of these people to flow out toward one another. The young men were sneaking squeezes of the breasts of the young ladies over their shirts. The young ladies let their hands move over the trousers of the young men, very close to their cocks.

After about an hour, Steve stood up and clapped his hands for attention. He announced "We're going to have some entertainment now. Peter is going to dance for us." Peter, winced, and could not help letting out a groan. The young men clapped and cheered, and the young ladies looked at Steve and their dates in puzzlement. Steve then repeated himself in Chinese, and the young ladies jokingly mimicked the clapping and cheers of the young men.

Steve turned to Peter: "Take off the maid's outfit. You won't need to give lap dances. The coffee table would make that awkward. Also, sorry, I haven't got your key, so we won't do the last part where you get a chance to wank." He clapped his hands at Peter and said "Chop chop!" and then went and sat down. 

Peter pulled the maids outfit over his head, and stood facing everyone in his stockings, panties and garter belt. The girls made noises of amazement and good natured outrage, and let their hands stray closer to the clothed cocks off their dates. Peter used the remote control to find a cheesy old House track, I Want to Give You Devotion, and Peter began his dance.

He bent over, ground, thrust and pumped his ass. He sucked his fingers, and winked and blew kisses. The young men and ladies seemed to have a great time, laughing and cheering, and growing closer and closer to one another. 

When Peter finished his routine, he stood up, faced the audience and curtsied humbly. The young men and women cheered and whistled. When the applause died down, Steve said to Peter, "You can go now, and wait for us in the car."

Peter pulled his maid's outfit over his head, and left the room. He walked around the halls, looking for his grey track suit. Chinese guys and hostesses passing through the halls stopped, looked at him and laughed. Some called "Hallooo," in the way that Chinese often mock foreigners, and he felt compelled to reply to this "Hello sir," or "hello Ms," although he knew that they did not expect a reply. When he replied, they laughed, or mocked him to one another in Chinese. A waiter in a flouncy yellow shirt approached him menacingly, holding out a hand for him to stop. The waiter spoke into his headset, and stood beside Peter, not allowing him to pass. A few moments later, the girl in the red Chi pa arrived. Her expression made clear that she felt Peter was disgusting.

She said "Follow me," and led Peter to the broom closet. Peter pulled his grey track suit on over his maids outfit, and put on his own shoes. He put the blonde wig and the high heel sandals in a plastic bag, and then went and waited in the car.

After about half an hour, Peter heard Steve and the young men approaching his car. They stood near the car, and he could hear them agree that two of the guys would walk home, and Peter would drive Steve and another one of them home. Steve and one of the young men got into the back of his car. From overhearing their conversations, Peter knew that the young man with Steve was called Brad, and that he was from California. Brad was tall and fit. He had shoulder length hair that he swept back from his forehead, and he wore a thinly groomed beard. He was always happy and smiling, and Peter felt certain that women would consider him to be very handsome and charming.

As they drove, Brad said to Steve, "Shit dude, I'm so fucking horny. Where to now?"

"Sorry man," Steve said, "I've got a busy day tomorrow. I'm gonna have to call it a night."

"Aw, maaaan," Brad groaned. "I thought those chicks were prostitutes. I couldn't get one to come home with me."

"They're not full on whores. They won't take money from you for a fuck, but they might date you if you buy them shit. What are you gonna do though, you don't speak any Chinese?"

"Awww man, come on, let's go somewhere, I got blue balls."

"Sorry dude. But you can take the faggot home if you like."

"Aww man, that sucks."

"He'll suck you off, any way you want," Steve said, then calling up to Peter in the driver's seat, "Won't you, faggot?"

"Yes, sir," Peter replied meekly.

Brad sighed. "If he sucks me off does that mean I'm a faggot?"

"Naaah, nine out of ten people will say it just means you're horny." 

"All right, I'll give it a go."

"Take this form. Fill it out and seal it in the envelope when you're done, and give it back to him to return it to his master, so that his master knows he's been a good boy."

"Man, this is some freaky shit right here."

"Be strict with him. Tell him what you want, and demand top notch service." Steve called up to Peter then: "Brad has your loan form. You do what he says, understand."

"Yes, sir."

Brian told Peter where to stop, and he got out of the car. Before closing the door, he said to Brad "Enjoy yourself. See you soon," and then closed the door.

Brad gave Peter directions, but said nothing else as they drove to Brad's apartment. They parked, and Brad said "Let's go." Peter followed him into the building, and into the elevator. As the elevator moved up to his floor, Peter glanced at Brad.

Brad said: "Man, dude, please don't look at me. Don't talk to me. Shit. I know I'm gonna regret this in the morning." Peter looked down at the floor in front of him.

They left the elevator, and went into Brad's apartment.

"Take off that fucking tracksuit, dude."

Peter took off the tracksuit, and slipped out of his shoes. He put on the blonde wig, and stepped into the sandals. 

Brian went to the refrigerator, got a beer and opened it. He went to the sofa, took the remote control from the coffee table, and turned on some porn. He took of all of his clothes, pushed the coffee table out of the way, and sat down on the sofa. 

"I want you to come over here and suck my balls. Don't look at me, or make any noise. I'm gonna try and imagine you're the little hottie I was sitting with tonight."

Peter got down on his knees and crawled over to between Brad's spread legs. Brad was very slowly jacking himself off, watching Asian porn, and he did not look down at Peter. Peter looked at Brad's balls. He felt such revulsion for these loose sacks. In order to give himself strength and resolve, he pictured Cindy in his mind, pictured her there watching what he was doing, and knowing that he was making this sacrifice for her. He put out a tentative tongue, and began to lick at Brad's nut sacks.

After several minutes of delicate licking, Brad said: "Take them in your mouth. Get a lot of spit in your mouth and swirl them around. Do it like a golf ball washer."

Brad kept jacking off slowly, watching porn and sipping at beer while Peter licked and sucked at his balls obediently. After about an hour, Brad lifted one heel up to the edge of the sofa, and began to jack off more emphatically. He said, breathlessly, "Lick me under my balls, lick my crack." Peter gagged as he licked at Brad's prostate, with Brad's ball sacks straddling the ridge of his nose, and resting on his eyes. Brad began to shoot, pumping cum down over his shaft and balls. Peter kept licking his balls, more tenderly now. Brad wiped his right hand on the shoulder of Peter's maid outfit, and said, "Clean me up now."

Peter sucked and licked the cum off Brad's shaft and balls, and swallowed it down, gagging occasionally at the taste. 

After several minutes, when his cock and balls were clean, Brad said, "You can get out of here now."

"Please sir, can you fill out the loan form for me."

"Sure thing."

As Peter dressed in the grey sweat suit, Brad took the form from the pocket of his discarded trousers, and completed it. While Peter waited by the door, he put it in the envelope and sealed it.

"Please sign along the seal of the envelope, sir."

Brad looked up at Peter impatiently, and then signed the seam, and held the envelope out to Peter. Peter took the envelope, and said, "Please sir, may I have a drink of water."

"Nah dude, just get out of here."

Peter went back to his car with the overpowering taste of Brad's cum in his mouth. When he got in the car, he took a bottle of coke from the glove compartment, and rinsed his mouth with this and spit many times. He rinsed and spit with Cola until there was no more white slime in what he spat out. He pulled in his legs, closed the door of the car and drove home.

The next day, Peter sat in his office exhausted. He had arrived home very late from Brad's place. Cindy had sent him some work through the internal message service when she first arrived, and he was working on this, but it was slow going.

The door opened to his office, and Cindy entered. He stood up and said "Good morning, Cindy." She was wearing an orange sweater, and tight, faded jeans that showed off her hips and ass. She was wearing sports shoes.

"Good morning, Peter. How are you?" she asked in a friendly tone, sitting down on the sofa beside his desk.

"I'm fine Cindy, how are you?"

"I'm good. Did you have a nice time last night?" she asked brightly.

Peter looked down from her bright eyes, and then back up into them. "No, Cindy, not really."

"Oh, that's too bad," she said with false commiseration. She pursed her lips in a smile that made dimples appear beside her lips. Her eyes twinkled. "You can sit down. Do you have the form?" 

He sat, and said "Yes Cindy, here it is," handing her the form.

She sat back in the sofa, and crossed one leg over the other. She opened the envelope, pushed her glasses up with one finger, and began reading. While she read, her lips smirked, and she let a huff out through her nostrils. Her lips curled in distaste once, though the twinkling grin remained in her eyes.

She put the form down, and looked at Peter with one eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Who is Brad."

"He is one of Steve's friends. He's from California."

"What he looks like."

"He's tall. He has shoulder length hair, pushed back, and a thin beard."




Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 07



"Does he have blonde hair and blue eyes."

"I think so."

Cindy laughed richly. "Is he very handsome?"

"I think so."

"Zhe dao, Zhe dao" -- I know, I know. Cindy's eyes twinkled, and she smiled warmly. She picked up the form and looked at it, and asked "What is golf ball washer?"

"A golf ball is the ball people use in the game they play in big fields, where you try to hit the ball into a little hole far away. A golf ball washer is a machine for cleaning these balls."

Cindy wrinkled her brow in confusion, and then her face lit with comprehension. She laughed, and curled her lip in humorous distaste. She sighed, a bit disappointed, and said, "Hai. Ta ye shi zhe yang de ren" -- oh dear, he is also that kind of person.

Cindy put the form back in the envelope, and put it down beside herself on the sofa. She looked deep into Peter eyes. Her eyes were friendly and shining, and she wore a smug, crooked smile. "Are you a gay?" she asked in a mockingly sweet tone.

Peter looked down, and his cheeks became red. "No, no I'm not, Cindy."

"Brian say if you keep doing this you will be a gay. He want make you a gay."

Peter looked down. He knew he shouldn't say what he wanted to say, but he sighed heavily, and then looked up at her bravely. "I am not a gay, and I am not straight. I don't want men, and I don't want women. I only have sexual feeling for one person, for you. He can never make me gay."

Cindy gave him a cold smile, and narrowed her eyes cruelly. She held his gaze menacingly, daring him to look away. "Wo bu zhi dao" -- I don't know – she scoffed. "Brian is very wise. He understand people feelings. I tell you how many times you can't love me? And still! I tell Brian I want him make you a gay."

She stood up, and stepped close to him. He looked up at her in fear, and she looked down at him with scorn. His cock began to stiffen, pulling his balls painfully away from his body. He shifted in his seat. He thought she was going to slap him.

"You can never have me. I don't think you are handsome, smart or funny. Do you understand?"

"Yes Cindy, I understand I can never have you. I know you can never love me, but I can't change my heart."

"Hai!" she said harshly. "So frustrating!" Her eyes flashed with anger. She whacked him on the head with the envelope.

He looked down at her rich hips in the tight denim. He could make out her proud mound of Venus under the fabric of her jeans. His cock was making a valiant effort to burst free of its cage, and dragging his balls along with it. He felt sick to his stomach. He wanted so much to take a hold of her body, to press himself against her, to kiss her full amazing lips, to enter her and feel her warm, soft wet body within. Tears came to his eyes.

"I tell Brian to make you a gay," she said decisively. "This is good for you."

She turned and left the room. He watched her spectacular ass in her tight jeans proudly scorning him as she left. How he wanted to fall down and bury his face in her ass, kissing and worshipping it. As she reached the door she turned, and caught the look of religious adoration on his face as he swooned at the sight of her ass. She curled her lip in a vicious sneer.

"Brian can make you a gay! Hai! Just do your work: don't talk to me again!"

She slammed the door behind her.

"I love you Cindy," he whispered in the empty room. Two tears left his eyes and crept down the canals between his cheeks and his nose. 

After several minutes, he picked his mobile phone, and started a message to Cindy. He was hesitant, and he started the message several times, and put down and picked up the phone again and again. He knew he shouldn't do it, and that the consequences would be dire, but he could not bear how Cindy had left him, and he wanted to salvage something.

He typed:

Cindy, I am sorry, please forgive me. I will not say such things to you again. I will hide what's in my heart, and you will never see it again. I became Brian's slave so that you could see I never expected you to love me. I see how friendly you are with all other people, and how comfortable, natural and easy you are around them. I wish you could be my friend, like you are with the other girls in our company, or the foreign gay guy who works with us. If I become a gay, could you be friendly, easy and natural with me? For this I would do it.

He hesitated for another ten minutes, and then pressed send. He immediately felt he had made a mistake, and wished he could call back the message. He sat in despair for hours, receiving no reply from Cindy. As he prepared to leave work at the end of the day, he received a message from Brian. It said:

Cindy forwarded me your message. She has no opinion about what you said. She is tired of dealing with you, and seriously considering leaving her job. She is a straightforward and traditional lady, and she has no interest in perverts. I think though that you have the right idea, and I am willing to help you. Be at Laura's place at 6:00 on Saturday evening.

Peter put his face in his hands, and tried to stay afloat upon an overwhelming wave of nausea. He recognized clearly that every move he had made since he had first met Steve and Laura in the coffee shop to arrange for Cindy to see him as a slave had been a mistake. He knew that Cindy would never love him, no matter what, but at least before all of this he had held her friendship and respect. Her friendship and respect was all he could hope for now, but every move he made pushed Cindy farther and farther away from him. Why could he not reach into his heart and turn off his desire for her? Why could he not accept that she would never want him, and begin to want to be with other women? There were plenty of other beautiful girls in his company, who some might think were as beautiful as Cindy, and who would jump at the chance of being with him, who would consider being with him to be a great victory. He could not control this though. The only time he felt sexual arousal was when he thought of Cindy. All people other than Cindy seemed like shadows to him. In this world, there was only Cindy and he: she was the earth, and he was the sky that drifted over her.

Despair seized his soul in its fists, and wrung it out like a wash cloth, squeezing out the last drops of hope and joy. What could he do now? He would do anything for Cindy; he would die at the drop of a hat if she asked him to. He belonged to Cindy; his body and his soul. He was her thing.

She didn't want him though: she would not accept him as her thing, and without this acceptance there was no meaning in his life. What could he do now?

He had to stick to his resolve. He had given himself up to Brian, in order to let Cindy see what he would do for her. Brian used this power to make him lower and lower in Cindy's eyes. If Peter broke his resolve now, he would continue to be low in Cindy's eyes, and he would also belittle his love for her, because it would seem that he did not have the resolve to follow through in his self sacrifice for her. He had to go through with it now, and continue on the path that he had set out on. He had to allow Brian to continue to make him nothing, so that Cindy would see the strength of his resolve. He would never give up on his love for her. He would continue to serve Brian, and let Brian make him become nothing, become less than nothing; he only hoped that Cindy would always know that he had done this so that she could see the strength of his love for her.

He sent a text message back to Brian:

Thank you Master. I know that you have been very kind to me. I will not bother Cindy again, I promise. I am so sorry. Please help me. I am sincerely your slave.

I look forward to Saturday evening, and I hope my obedience will make you proud. I really hope that you will find more ways that you can benefit from me.

As he drove home, Peter received a text message from Brian. He read it at the next red light. 

It said: I have forwarded your text messages to Cindy. We have no secrets.



Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 08



Peter knocked at Laura's door at 6:00 on Saturday evening. He was wearing his grey track suit over his maids outfit. When Laura and Steve let him in, they were very blasé with him. There was no teasing or cynicism. They simply spoke to him calmly and firmly, as though he were hired help. He almost wished they would mock and ridicule him, and draw attention to that fact that his role here was not natural, that it was a mockery of the natural order. Their neutral attitudes and matter of fact tones made it seem that this dream, this pantomime, had become a reality. 

Peter went into the small room, and changed into his maid's outfit. He was asked to lift his skirt and turn around slowly when he came to Laura and Steve for inspection, and then sent back to smear more oil on his ass, balls, and all the bare skin between his garter belt and his stocking tops. When he came back out these areas were slick and shining. Laura reminded him to walk in a flouncing and girlish way, and Steve reminded him to keep smiling. 

Laura explained to him that they were having a party that night, and that he would serve the party. She instructed him on how to answer the door, and introduce himself to the guests. She corrected his voice when she asked him to practice his greeting, insisting that he should speak in a feminine falsetto. She told him how to first take the guests' coats and bags, and put them in the small room, and then come back and ask them what they wanted to drink. She told him to watch to make sure their glasses were never empty. She told him to make sure that all ashtrays were clean, and that empty glasses weren't left sitting around. She told him to make sure that bowls of peanuts and dried fruit were full. She told him that when he was not busy, he should come around with trays of snacks.

She showed him the drinks in the kitchen, and then asked him to prepare cheese and crackers, and sausages on sticks. The guests began arriving at 8:00, and he was almost immediately struggling to keep up with all the things that he needed to do. It was especially difficult in the high heels, and while maintaining a feminine style of walking. The guests were all very trendy, good looking young people, and apart from the initial giggles, they largely ignored him, perhaps hoping that by ignoring him they would seem worldlier. They simply stated their order for drinks, or called him over for snacks, and thanked him blandly. They were all busy mingling, and he stumbled about at his tasks for the most part unnoticed. Whenever he passed Steve, Steve whispered to him "Keep smiling," and Peter reaffixed the false smile to his face.

By ten o'clock, there were about twenty people crowded into the room, and he had begun to fall behind in his tasks. The orders for drinks and snacks were no longer courteous, but impatient. People had entered the apartment that he had failed to greet at the door, and take jackets from, as he had been so busy fetching drinks. 

Suddenly, from amidst the murmur of all the voices, he heard Cindy's voice, like the trickle of clear water in a desert storm. He heard her surprised laugh, and: "Peter is here." She was wearing a long jacket, holding it closed at the throat. Brian stood beside her, with his arm over her shoulder, pulling her in close to him. As he hurried over to them, she smiled at him with a warm yet condescending expression.

"May I take your coat, Master," he said. Brian slipped off his jacket, and handed it to Peter, saying nothing.

"May I take your jacket, Cindy." Cindy slipped off her jacket and handed it to him with a gracious smile. She was wearing a short skirt, black, shining ankle length boots, light black stockings and a tight sweater. She was wearing makeup, and hanging silver earrings. She smiled at him warmly, with condescension, and said sweetly, "Thank you, Peter." His cock began to swell, and tug his balls away from his body. As he carried their jackets to the small room, he felt contented. This is how it should be. She was natural and comfortable in treating him as a servant now, and her sweet "thank you Peter" was enough for him. He would dedicate himself to being Brian's slave, just so that he could experience the pleasure of serving Cindy: hearing her say "thank you Peter;" seeing her smile at him in a condescending way. He was just the help now, and that was the most he could hope to be. As Brian's slave, he would have chances to serve Cindy, and hear the gracious voice of her gratitude. It was enough.

He went back, and served Brian and Cindy drinks. He made sure to show them through his expression that he was happy and satisfied with his position. Cindy seemed comfortable with seeing him in this role now, and he knew that as long as he did not tell her again that he loved her, his dedication and his resolution would allow her to accept his service naturally and willingly. He continued his struggle to keep up with his tasks, but it was now easier for him to remember to keep the smile fixed to his face. Whenever he caught a glimpse of Cindy, his cock began to grow, and give him a stomachache, so he avoided looking at her too much. It was enough for him to know that she was there, and his role for the evening was to serve her as well as the other guests. Whenever he held the tray for her to take a snack, or refilled her drink, she smiled at him warmly and condescendingly, and thanked him graciously with her musical voice, and for this he gladly accepted his role as Brian's slave. 

By about 12:00, many of the people had gone on to a Disco called Babyface. There were about twelve people left in the room. Laura came to Peter, and took him into the small room. She told him to take off the maid's costume. He pulled it over his head, and stood before her in only the garter belt, stockings, panties, pink collar, white sandals, blonde wig and cock cage. She straightened the straps of his garter belt, front and back, and then tidied his panties so that they sat tidily over his cock cage. She told him to spread more oil over his body. While he was doing this she said. "In a few minutes, you will hear your song, and you can come in and give us your dance."

"Yes, Ms"

She left him alone in the room. He felt very nervous, and very embarrassed, and his face was red and sweating. He was resolved, however, to perform to the best of his ability. He wanted Cindy to see that he was nothing; that she didn't need to worry about anything when he was around. He wanted Cindy to see him as nothing more than Brian's slave, and to accept this as the natural order, and behave naturally toward him in this role. He wanted her to move past pitying him, or considering him as a person. He wanted to thrill in the condescension of her thank you's and her smiles, and the knowledge that these were not at all required, that they were just gracious gestures on her behalf.

From beyond the door, he heard the sound of a spoon or a fork tapping a glass, and Brian's voice calling "Hi, everyone, can I have your attention. This is a big night for our maid Peter. Tonight, he is coming out of the closet, and embracing his nature as a homosexual. I hope you will all welcome him warmly, and give him your encouragement."

Kylie Minogue's Can't Get you out of My Heart began to play. Peter's hands were shaking with stage fright, and butterflies were rollicking inside him. He opened the door, and began his dance to the center of the room, as Laura had taught him. Everyone cheered and whistled. He noticed immediately that Cindy was cheering as well. Her expression was bright, shocked and amused, but very merry. She was seated on the sofa with Brain in the far corner of the room behind the coffee table.

Peter shimmied and wiggled, bent over and rubbed his fingers down the panty covered crack of his ass. He sucked his fingers, blew kisses, winked and humped his ass. He stroked his cock cage, under the silk panties, and his thighs and his nipples. He ignored the roars of laughter, and the questions about his cock cage. He saw that Cindy was having a great time, smiling brightly, and sharing in the hilarity of the audience, and this was all that mattered to him. He kept smiling. 

When the song finished, he stood waiting meekly for the next, so that he could offer individual lap dances, but Laura turned off the music, and Sean came forward with a large, lifelike rubber cock, and stuck it to the coffee table in front of Brian and Cindy by banging it down on the suction cup at its base. Cindy looked at the big fake cock in disgust, curling one side of her lip, and lifting one nostril.

"Ok Peter," Sean said, "show us what you've got!"

Peter looked down. He whimpered, "Oh please no, Master, not this."

"Come on," Brian said, "this is your big chance to let Cindy know you've become a gay. Do a good job and I'll take of the cage and let you jack off once."

Laura came and stood beside him. "Get down on your knees, and crawl over to it."

He sighed, and groaned in despair, and then got down on his knees and crawled toward the rubber cock. Cindy glared at him from behind the coffee table and the cock with absolute scorn. She narrowed her eyes and held his eyes as though daring him to sink to this level. His mouth was in front of the rubber cock now, and Laura crouched down beside him, and whispered to him softly, and encouragingly, "Lick it all over, like an ice cream." 

He followed her instructions. Cindy let out a disgusted hiss. She kept staring into his eyes. 

"That's good, good little fag, lick the balls now," Laura said encouragingly.

The guests had gathered around the coffee table, all of them watching with amusement and disgust, some groaning, and some snickering. Someone said "I hear he's very good at licking balls."

"Golf ball washer," Cindy muttered, and giggled.

"Take the head in your mouth and suck. Flick your tongue at the bottom of the head, just here," Laura instructed patiently. 

"This lady knows what she's talking about," one of the young men said.

"That she does," Steve said proudly, "that she does."

"Go down on it now, as deep as you can," Laura whispered pressing his head down gently from behind. He gagged and lifted his mouth off the cock. His eyes were watering. "Don't give up, keep going down," Laura whispered, "try to go down far enough to lick the balls. Keep looking up at Cindy."

He opened his eyes and saw Cindy glaring at him, her eyes narrowed with disgust, and her jaw forward smugly, stubbornly.

"What do you think of your great admirer now?" Brian asked Cindy

"Definitely look like gay," she said with scorn, "I think you do what you say you will do: make him a gay." 

"I thought he said I could never make him gay?"

"I think you know his heart better than he know it."

Laura kept pushing his head down gently, to make him deep throat the rubber cock. She finally got him down low enough on it that he could lick the rubber balls with the shaft lodged in his throat. 

"OK, now if you can hold that for ten seconds you're a star." She held the back of his head down gently, and started to count "10, 9 . . ." His eyes were bulging, and drool was streaming from the corner of his mouth. Everyone joined Laura in the countdown, even Cindy, who was again smiling happily. At "1", Peter coughed the cock step by step out of his throat. Everyone cheered. He knelt there, head hanging in shame in front of the rubber cock. 

"Good faggot," Brian said, handing Laura his keys. "Laura, would you do the honors."

"Stand up," Laura said gently, patting Peter on the shoulder.

He stood, and she pulled down his panties to just above his knees. The girls present commented on how cute his cock cage was. Laura removed the cock cage, and placed it on the coffee table. She took up the rubber cock, and led Peter to the far corner of the room. She stuck the cock to the wall at about waist height, and pressed Peter to his knees in front of it. "Suck this now, and jack yourself off. You can come as soon as you're ready. Don't keep us waiting too long."

Peter began sucking on the cock, and jacking himself off. His panties were at his knees, and his naked ass was at a 45 degree angle to the guests at the other side of the room behind him. He kept tugging his cock, and sucking enthusiastically, hoping Cindy would believe Brian had managed to make him gay. He could not, however, manage to make himself cum, no matter how fervently he tugged at himself.

He heard people behind him urging him to hurry. He listened for a trace of Cindy's voice, knowing that this would take him to orgasm, but she said nothing. Brain explained: "If someone wears a cock cage for a long time, he becomes impotent. Poor Peter is not only a faggot now, he is an impotent faggot."

"That's bullshit," Laura said. "I can make him cum in less than 30 seconds."

"Right," Brian said doubtfully. 

"Care to bet? 100 RMB."

"Ok, tell me when to start the time."

"Now," Laura said, and Peter heard the click of the stopwatch on Brian's phone.

"Peter," Laura called. "Cindy is here. She is pressed tight beside Brian. She can see your naked ass, and you sucking a big cock. What do you think she thinks of you?"

Peter groaned around the rubber cock, and pushed his face down on it till he gagged. Cindy could see him, like this! She was there behind him, with Brian! Brian could take pleasure in her body, while he would content himself with a condescending smile, and a gracious thank you! He began to shake all over, his ass humping out of control. It felt as if his whole soul had bunched itself up in the confines of his balls, and now shot out from him white and with wings. He held the rubber cock deep in his throat to keep himself from flying off the world. His cum kept shooting out onto Laura's hardwood floor.

"That was less than ten seconds. It doesn't look like he's gay, or like he's given up on Cindy," Laura said.

"Get the cock cage back on," Brian said.

Peter came over to the coffee table, and took the cock cage. He could not look up at anyone. He went into the bathroom, and used cold water and oil, and put it back on, and locked it.

He went back into the living room. The guests were all standing around in their jackets, ready to leave. Cindy held the collar of her jacket closed at her throat. Peter came and stood in front of Brian and Cindy. Cindy smiled at him in a way that was at once warm, condescending and proud.

"Clean up your mess first," Brian said, drawing everyone's attention to the puddle of cum in the corner. He noticed Cindy look at this puddle, and curl her lips in disgust. "Then, tidy this place up for Laura. Get going."

Peter went and started to clean up the puddle, while the guests all left.

He spent the next three hours cleaning up Laura's apartment, and then went home, and slept all Sunday, his dreams full of images of Cindy. 

The next week, Cindy was warmer to him at work than she had been since he had become Brian's slave. He was careful to never say anything at all about how he felt for her. Sometimes, he caught her looking at him with an expression that seemed to be pride. For the most part, he remained neutral and professional with her, and she remained neutral and professional with him, although occasionally she gave him a knowing smile that made him blush, and look down.

Peter's business was moving from strength to strength. They had taken on a few very strong new contracts in the past month, and Peter was interviewed on Chinese television that week, as a foreign businessman who had made a positive contribution to China. 

On every evening except the evening he was interviewed on television, he went to Brian's place to clean after he finished work. Brian showed no emotion in his dealings with Peter. He simply told him what to do, and then left him to it. He usually went out while Peter was working. Cindy was never there. Peter was tired, but he was satisfied with how things had turned out.

That Saturday, Brian asked him to arrive at three. Peter was very disappointed to see that Cindy was not there. He so wanted to serve her, to see her condescending smile, and to hear her musical voice say "Thank you, Peter," graciously, but without call. He wanted her to see him as a slave and to become more and more comfortable in dealing with him in this role. Peter started cleaning Brian's apartment, but after the work he had done each evening during the past week, there was very little for him to do.

At about 4:00, Brian told Peter to put on his grey tracksuit, and follow him. They went down to Peter's car, and Peter drove them to Luga's Villa. Brian led him in though a back entrance, and took him into a large storage room. Steve and the Luga's Villa manageress were waiting for them there. There was a large cardboard box, which looked like it had been made for an oven or a washing machine, in the center of the room. It was a cube of one meter. There were holes cut into the top of each of the four sides, at about waist level. 

Steve told Peter to take off his track suit and his maid's outfit. When he stood there in only stockings, panties and garter belt, the manageress approached him. She studied his cock cage, but did not change her stony expression. She took out some very red lipstick, and applied this to Peter's lips. Steve opened the top of the cardboard box, and told Peter to get in. Peter got into the box, and he could hear them taping it shut. He heard porn from above him, and he realized they had placed a lap top on the top of the box, on which they were playing porn. The manager's long, manicured fingers came through a hole in the side of the box, and wiggled, and he realized that he had been placed in a glory hole box. He went forward and sucked at her fingers, until she pulled them away.

He heard them leaving the room, and closing the door behind them. He sat in the box for an hour and a half, listening to music in the restaurant beyond, and a growing crowd. It seemed like Luga's was having a private party. The porn on the laptop kept playing. 

Someone came into the room, and closed the door and locked it. He saw fingers poke through one of the hole and wiggle at him. He came over and sucked at the fingers. The fingers withdrew, and he heard the sound of a zipper. A cock protruded into the box through the hole. He sucked at this in the way Laura had taught him. There was the sound of the porn from the laptop above him, on top of the box. He worked hard at it, and the cock shot it load into his throat, and he gulped it all down. He kept thinking that he was doing this for Cindy, so that she would feel comfortable with him, so that she would think he was a faggot, and be friendly and easy with him. 

The cock withdrew after he had sucked it clean, and he heard the sound of the zipper again. About every ten minutes after that, another person entered the room, locked the door, and stuck a cock through a hole in the box. He sucked each cock off expertly. Once, he heard the voice of a Chinese woman in the room with the man he sucked off. He could hear that the party had become quite wild. Whenever the door was opened, the techno music and the sound of partying seemed to shake the floor beneath him. After about the sixth cock, the porn was shut off on the laptop above him. He sat listening to the sound of the party coming through the door, and then the door opened, letting the noises fill the room, and then shut. 

He heard footsteps, but they did not come toward the box. 

Suddenly, he heard Cindy's voice say "Tianna. Lai si la" -- my god, I am tired to death.

He sat quietly, listening, hoping Cindy would not see him here, covered in cum.

"It's loud out there," Brian said, "let's have a breather in here."

"Xing" -- ok. He heard the squeak of them sitting down on the sofa. 

"What's that box?" Cindy asked.





Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 08



"I don't know."

"Strange."

"I want to talk to you about something, Cindy."

"What you want to talk about?"

"I'm getting really tired of Peter. I feel insulted that he still won't give up on you. Sometimes I even feel jealous."

"That ridiculous. I can never want him."

"I know Cindy. Still, I'm thinking of sending him away for a while. I've tried to break him of his feelings for you. I hoped I could do some good for the pervert, but nothing seems to work."

Silence

"You aren't saying anything, what do you think."

"Xing," Cindy said, it seemed with a little reluctance.

"Are you sure that's ok? I mean I know we say he's my slave, but it's really you that he belongs to."

"He don't belong to me!" Cindy said crossly. "None of my business. If you want send him away send him away. If he want be your slave, he go. If no, he don't go. That what slave is."

"Can the business get by without him?"

Cindy hesitated, and then said "ke yi" -- can do -- with some doubt.

"You can take his place in his office, where you belong, and Brad can do the work Peter has been doing."

"Brad?" Cindy said with doubt. "Wo bu zhe dao" -- I don't know.

"Brad's a really clever guy. He's a great writer."

"Wo bu zhi dao."

"I think Peter needs help. I found a place for him east of Beijing, where they can give him the kind of help he needs."

"What kind of place?"

"Like a psychological clinic. I am sure it would be good for him, so that he can forget about you."

Silence.

"What's the matter, don't you want him to forget about you," Brian said with spite.

"I want."

"You can use half of Peter's wages to pay the clinic. Room and board are included in this cost, so he doesn't need anything more. You can pay Brad the other half of Peter's wages."

"Can Brad do it? I think he not worth that."

"Pfft," Brian huffed, annoyed, "Peter is so great. No one else can do what he can."

"I don't say this."

"Look Cindy. How about we make a compromise? I give him one more chance to stop pestering you, and to stop telling us he loves you. If he says ok, I understand, I don't love Cindy anymore, then he can stay. If not, he goes to get the help he needs. It might only take a few months."

Silence

"What do you say?" Brian asked, with rising anger.

"Xing, xing" -- ok, ok -- Cindy conceded.

"I will be good for him, I promise."

Silence.

"And what about Brad? Can you use him? He will do it for half of Peter's wage."

"Ke yi," she said half heartedly. "We have a try."

"God you look hot tonight." The sound of movement.

"Bu yao" -- don't want. "Not now, don't like smell in this room."

"Come on babe. . ."

"Bu yao!" Cindy said with insistence.

"Whatever," Brain said, peeved. "Ok, let's go home. I really want you tonight." 

"Xing" -- ok.

Peter heard them stand up, and leave the room. After a few minutes, someone entered the room, and turned on the porn on the laptop again, then left the room. He sucked off about ten more cocks that night. While he waited for another cock to appear in one of the holes, he wracked his brain trying to understand what he had heard between Cindy and Brian. Obviously Brian had known he was in the box, but Cindy had not. Where was Brian planning on sending him? What final chance would Brian give him? What should he understand from Cindy's initial hesitation to send him away, and from her eventual agreement. . . and Brad. How could Brad look after he and Cindy's company? 

Cindy was warm toward Peter the following week. Through their mutual hard work, and their teamwork, the company had become a shining success. On Friday, Peter received a text message from Brian, telling him to be at his apartment at 6:00 that evening. Cindy gave Peter permission to leave early. She smiled at him in a knowing way.

The elevator opened, and slave stepped out and turned left. He stood in front the door to Brian's apartment and rapped, and then stepped back and waited with his hands crossed behind his back.

Cindy opened the door. She smiled in a friendly way, but her eyes retained the Zen stillness of total indifference as they looked at slave. "Hello Peter," she said with a tone of weary indifference, belied by the richness and the sweetness of her voice. 

Her hair was tied back sleekly, announcing the perfection of her features. Siddhartha's eyes, the oddly arching front top row of teeth, the proud jaw, the full lips. She wore a black turtleneck, which showed off her perfect, pendulant breasts, and their painfully perfect proportion to her slim waist, and full, rich hips. Over the paradise of her thighs, she wore black leggings. The ivory of her calves and ankles were naked. Her feet were free to curl in soft slippers.

"Hello Cindy," slave said very softly.

She stepped back from the door and crossed her arms under her breasts, gazing at him with an amused smirk. He passed her on entering, and she shut the door.

"How are you?" She asked.

He melted to hear the rich sweetness of her voice, and his heart sank as he recognized the extremes that his unrequited love for her could drive him to.

"I'm fine, Cindy, thank you. How are you?"

"I'm good." She stood looking at him, her eyes resuming the taunting self-assurance of their indifference.

He breathed in deeply, hoping to catch the scent of her. He found perfume, and with the next breath he sought her fragrance, the fragrance generated by her body, from under that of the perfume. His knees were weak to be so near to her. She stood watching him quizzically, refusing to speak; smirking.

Slave did not know what to say or do, so he said, "Master wants me to get changed immediately." Coward! He rebuked himself. He had a chance to spend time with Cindy, and he was too afraid to take it. Master had told him to get ready immediately, but he could have stood a few more moments looking at Cindy, and Master would never have known. 

A slight glimmer of contempt came into one of Cindy's eyes, and one side of her expressive lips curled slightly. He proceeded through the living room, and went into the small room that had been designated for his use. He closed the door behind himself.

He took of all his clothes. He folded his clothes and put them in a trunk. He locked this shut. Only master had the key. His body was smooth, having just this afternoon been totally shaven. There was an envelope on the bed, with the word slave written on it. He opened this, and found a key, and a note saying "take off your cock cage." He took off the cock cage, and placed it on the bed. He took baby oil out of a small dresser, and spread it copiously over all of his body below the neck. He made sure to spread more than seemed reasonable over his shaved ass, his tight, retracted, hairless balls, and his big, bouncing, glimmering cock, as he had regularly been criticized recently for having only modestly doused his body in oil. His cock was standing up in front of him, leaping around like a salmon, engorged by the knowledge of Cindy's near presence. 

He attached a frilly white garter belt over his hips, and then drew white, lace topped stockings high up on his thighs. He fastened the clips of the garter belt to these. He pulled his light, black and white maid's outfit down over his shoulders. It just came down to the crease under his ass, and in front to just an inch under his tense, shaven and engorged sack. At present, however, his erect member held up the light fabric of the skirt like the entrance to a circus tent. The thin fabric just covered the half the top of his cock's head, becoming damp from the pre cum oozing from his cock's eye, and under this drape of fabric the engorged shaft and the turgid sack, both throbbing, slowly, and not in rhythm with one another.

He put on a blonde bob wig, and a maid's headband over this. Now was the hard part. He sat on a stool in front of a mirror, and attempted to put on makeup by himself, for the first time ever, in accordance with Master's instructions. He knew that no matter how hard he tried to do it right, he would be criticized for the results. His only concern was that Cindy would see him in this make up, and he didn't want to appear ugly to her, so he tried to do the lipstick, blush, mascara, and eyeliner carefully, in case there was still hope that one day she would love him as he loved her. . . Hah! You absolute fool, he thought of himself, as he realized no amount of care with the makeup would produce a flattering result. He finished with the mascara and the eye shadow, and he looked glumly at himself in the mirror. The gay circus entrance had become a sad flag dipped in mourning. He hesitated. He was so nervous about Cindy seeing him this way. He rallied himself, thinking "I can't delay any longer." His heart cinched in desperation. He squared up to the door. He pulled down at the skirt, futilely attempting to pull it under the crease of his ass and his balls. The tent pole began to rise again at the thought of seeing Cindy again in seconds.

He opened the door and stepped forward into the main room. Cindy stopped was she was doing, and strolled over toward him. She smirked at him, and chuckled. There was a look in her eye that was the closest he'd come to seeing the friendship they used to share before he had declared himself to be her slave. They had been good friends, before all of this.

"Aiya," she said, walking toward him. She criticized him in Chinese too quick for him to follow. She took his arm and firmly led him over to the light, chattering humorously at him all the way. Still criticizing, and occasionally punctuating her criticism with small, flirty slaps to his upper body, she held his face up by the chin to face the light, and began to fix his lipstick with her thumb nail, all the while berating him in a friendly tone, in Chinese too quick for him to comprehend. He happily realized that this was the way she behaved toward their gay colleague at work. 

However, then with her nearness, his cock reached such a state of tumescence that it set itself free altogether of the weight of the silken maid's skirt, and bobbed, shaven, nude and oiled, in the space between Cindy and he. She looked down at it, raising one eyebrow in a question, and she did not look away. He stood, displayed to her unabashed gaze. It jumped, and the sack clenched itself lewdly, ready to shoot at the touch of a feather. Cindy giggled and sighed: "Aiyo! Why you don't wear the pink machine? Why you have no panties?"

"Master told me to take off the cock cage, and not to wear panties tonight," slave said looking down ashamed.

Cindy smirked, and then stepped forward, grinning mischievously, and took his cock between two fingers and squeezed gently, to gauge its rigidity. She whirled his balls around in her palm, and giggled. He sighed, and felt he might swoon. She had never once touched him before this. A string of pre cum flowed out from the eye of his cock, and dangled from the head. She crouched to examine the cock, rolled the string of pre cum up on her finger like a noodle, and then stood and pushed this finger between his painted lips. "You like this," she said matter of factly.

"Yes, Cindy, yes I do," he mumbled meekly around her finger. He sucked at her finger, and she pushed it and other fingers in deeper, to gag him, while holding his eyes with hers. He gagged for her, and tears blurred his vision, and he mumbled "Cindy, I love you, I belong to you" around her fingers. She held his eyes cooly, and then took her fingers from his mouth. With a curl of distaste on her lips, she wiped her fingers dry on the hip of his skirt.

She giggled to see that his hips were pumping the air, as though trying to fuck a ghost. She stepped back and crossed her arms up under her tits, as though waiting patiently for his attention. He stopped humping the air, and looked down abashed. Amazingly, she smiled at him, like she had when they were friends. A summer breeze blew through his heart, and tickled his cock, causing it to jump. This broadened her increasingly mischievous grin.

"Brian say no work for you. You can sit on sofa and have a rest until he come back." She stood sideways to let him pass to the sofa. She slapped his ass very hard as he passed her. He focused on the shape of her hand as the pain dispersed and drained out of his left ass cheek, leaving only a general rosy glow. He sat down on the sofa. His cock stood straight up in front of him obscenely. He didn't know whether or not to cross or uncross his legs, so he crossed and then uncrossed them. She grinned at his awkwardness, and moved her eyes between his eyes and his stiff cock. He tugged at the edges of his skirt futilely. She called him a fool in Chinese, and then, instead of leaving him alone, as he expected she would, she sat down close to him, with her knees touching his thigh. He could smell her magnificent breathe. He was overwhelmed, and he did not dare to move. He let out a weak whimper, as his cock throbbed with unbearable frustration. 

She took his cock and held it gently, and then began to stroke it slowly. He felt her breathe on his ear. "You aren't allowed to come," she said firmly, "don't move." He let out a sharp sigh, and sank back into the sofa. 

"Brian want me kiss you." She stared into his eyes with a look that said nothing, a look that failed to meet him or speak to him. "I don't want." She pouted humorously. "He say if I let you kiss me, maybe you will feel it is something normal, and realize I am just normal girl. Some ways, Brian very good to you. Think a lot about how to help you." She held his eyes, and though her face was blank, there was a glimmer of humor in her eyes. She glanced between his eyes and his pulsing, leaking cock. Her cheeks were flushed. 

"You know you need to say you don't love me tonight, or Brian will send you away. Brad will take your position at our company. Brad the guy who say you can be golf ball washer." She chuckled with a voice that was sweet music. 

She held his eyes with her indifferent Siddhartha eyes. Sensing he was about to cum, she stopped stroking his cock, and instead began tickling his balls. 

"Are you sure you want kiss me? I don't know it help you give up on me or not." Her jaw thrust forward proudly, and her eyes gleamed darkly. "I not lesbian. I like man. Can you kiss me like man?" 

"I will try Cindy." 

She looked down at his stockings, and raised one eyebrow. "Wo bu zhi dao," – I don't know. 

He felt so nervous. He looked into her eyes. She was challenging him. She raised one eyebrow, and raised her lips at one side.

"You can kiss me now."

He looked into the blank expression with which she held his eyes. He moved his lips toward her, but, as much as he wanted to, he was afraid to push his lips into this indifference.

"I'm sorry Cindy, I'm very nervous," he whined. 

"This why you can never be man," she said with certainty. "If you don't want to kiss me that fine."

"Please, Cindy I want to more than anything. Please let me try." 

She stared at him indifferently, with a glimmer of humor in her eyes. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She kept her lips stiff and dry, and did not respond to his kiss. Then, her lips began to soften, and open, and she responded to his kiss, and kissed him back. Her eyes stayed open though, flashing soundless laughter at him, and holding him at bay. Her lips were so full, so soft and so fleshy. 

He remembered how often he had knelt before her image on the computer screen, tugging at his own cock, and then kissing the screen where her lips were, and how this had given him the most powerful, shuddering orgasms of his life. This was so much more. He could smell her, and taste her, feel the wetness of her tongue. How could any man have the right to experience this? How could any man survive this? 

She stroked him slowly, careful that he would not cum, as he pressed his lips into her lips. His tongue mingled with her tongue, and then she turned away from his kiss, and curled her lip at him smugly, in good natured distaste. He licked her neck, and put his tongue in her ear, and she laughed, part tickled, and part from sexual delight. 

"Bu yao," – don't want – she scolded, pushing him away.

She kept stroking his cock, slowly and tenderly, but relentlessly. He would have to come: he couldn't bear it. He was desperate, and his needs as a man began to overcome his obedience as a slave. He reached and touched her breast: it was so full, so real after all these years of admiration. She released his cock and slapped him hard, saying "don't move!" She then took his cock in her hand again, but did not stroke it. He tried to fuck her motionless grip. His eyes were closed in ecstasy and agony. The door of the apartment opened. He tried to kiss her again, but she evaded him emphatically. He moaned "Please Cindy, choose me, I love you with all my heart." He was pumping his cock desperately up into her loose grip. There was the soft peal of her laughter. 

The nearing footsteps drew to a halt just in front of him. Master cleared his throat. Cindy released her grip, giggled, and stood beside Brian. Slave opened his eyes, and saw them both looking down at him smugly, as he continued to thrust his cock urgently against the air. Slave sighed in despair, and then slid to the floor and crawled over to Master Brian's feet. He could see Cindy's soft shoes beside Master's. Slave began to kiss Master's shoes. He knew to do this until he was told to stop.

"He ask me to leave you, and to be with him," Cindy reported to Master harshly. "Maybe he think he can say this any time. Maybe he think he better than you. He also say he love me again." She poked slave in the ribs with her the toe of her soft shoes, as slave continued to kiss master's shoes. She said down to slave: "I give you a chance to make mistake so Brian can know what you are like. I hate you. I don't want you around me, even if you are a slave."

Brian laughed a light and confident laugh. Slave, very nervous now, continued kissing his shoes. "Wow," master said, "your cock is really big. Maybe I need to put it back in the cage so that I don't feel challenged." Slave whimpered, and kissed master's shoes with renewed vigor. Cindy giggled.

Master stepped back. Slave stayed in position, head at the level of master's shoes, awaiting further command. "You seem really horny," Master said. "I'll give you a chance to cum now by humping my boot. Would you like that?" Slave knew better than to say no, so he mumbled meekly, "Yes Master. Thank you, Master."

Brian walked over to where the dice were, and the dice clinked gently as he lifted them. Cindy sat on the sofa behind slave, facing Brian. Brian kicked off one shoe, and pulled on a riding boot. He went to a table, leaned against it, and extended the riding boot. He whistled, "Here boy, come on," and snapped his fingers. Cindy laughed. Slave crawled over to Brian, and mounted his foot like a child riding his father's leg, his knees bent, and his ass cheeks on his ankles. The oil on his ass crack and on his cock and balls made the boot shine wetly where he touched it. Slave knew the game. He had to prepare himself to cum, and announce when he was ready. Then, Brian would roll a dice, and if the number was one, he had to come immediately. If the number was not one, or if he didn't cum immediately, he would not be allowed another chance to come until another dice roll was offered. Slave did not want to come this way, humping Master's boot with Cindy behind his back where he could not see her, and he hoped he would not get a one, at first, but then, as he neared climax, and humped at Brian's boot with more and more conviction, he prayed that he would get a one, and that he could just shoot his muck and let it all rest for a while. He croaked up to Brian that he was ready, and kept humping at the boot, desperate to come. Brian patted his head, and cruelly delayed rolling the dice, causing Cindy to giggle at slave's pathetic desperation. "Are you enjoying yourself?' Brian asked slave in a friendly voice.




Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 08



"Yes Master," slave answered, breathless from humping with enough vigor to be able to cum instantly upon the rolling of the dice. His balls were seething with cum as he rubbed himself desperately against Brian's boot. Brian rolled the dice on the table. "Two," he said flatly, and pulled the boot away, and went to sit on the sofa beside Cindy. He whistled: "Come boy, take off my boot." 

Slave knew how he had to do this. He crawled over and, crawling, backed up over the master's boot. He then reached back under his own spread crotch and took a hold of the boot. Today, he had not been permitted to wear underpants. He was mortified to consider that Cindy could see his asshole. Oh! The shame! He knew that he was not meant to pull at the boot, that he was simply meant to maintain his grip as master pulled his own boot off against slave's grip, but now Master did not move. He could tell that Master had pulled Cindy to him, and he listened to the heartbreaking sound of their kisses. They stopped, and Cindy giggled. Oh! Cindy could see his asshole! There was no way for him to hide this as he held onto master's boot between his own spread open legs. What must she think of him? Please let there be a small grain of mercy, and another of pity, in all that mass of contempt and disgust!

Master began to tug at his boot, but he made a game of it, forcing slave to clench and relax against his tugging, and pulling slave small distances across the carpet on his knees. Slave's cock had gone soft, had gone tiny. Cindy was laughing. Slave's winking asshole was the center of attention. "Have you ever been fucked in the ass," master asked slave as the heel of his foot almost slipped out of the ankle of the boot. Cindy snorted with surprised amusement.

"No, Master," slave replied meekly, and with trepidation. He didn't like where this might be going. The Master pushed his foot back fully into the boot, and slave re-established his grip. Slave was becoming sweaty. One side of his face was pressed into the carpet, and he could feel the makeup slipping out of place. Whatever choices he made, he knew he would wind up looking wretched.

Master began to push and pull at the boot, shaking slave around, causing his displayed asshole to clench and unclench under Cindy's silent, judging gaze. Master said: "Cindy, help me out here."

"Au?" Cindy replied in coarse Chinese style. Then, he felt the soft soled ball of her foot and toes against his right ass cheek, holding it in place, spreading it a bit. Master pulled slowly and smoothly against the boot and his foot extracted itself. Slave's body slumped, ass higher, back lower, still holding between his wide parted legs the empty boot. Cindy took away her foot, and then kicked slave sharply just under the right ass crease, at the very top of the thigh.

He waited for orders, not changing position, as he knew was required. "Position one, facing us," Master said calmly.

Slave stood, touched his wrists and elbows behind his back, and spread his feet to just past shoulder width, in a girly at-ease. He turned to face Master and Cindy. His makeup was a wreck, his wig was all over the place, and his cock had shrunk, so that the skirt hung straight down to just above the height of the now free swinging balls.

"My god, what a mess," Master laughed. 

The left of Cindy's lip lifted with contempt.

"Do you know why I let you hang around?" master asked.

Slave looked down meekly, and then up to politely meet Master's gaze as he replied "No master, I'm sorry, I don't."

"Are you stupid?"

"Yes master," slave replied, holding Master's gaze. For an instant his gaze shifted to Cindy. She was observing him smugly, with a smirk.

Slave stood looking down at his feet for a moment, until he recalled his manners and looked up to face the gaze of the one who was addressing him.

Master lifted one of Cindy's breasts, and then he turned and they kissed moistly.

"Do you think Cindy is beautiful," Master asked.

"She is the only beautiful thing in this world, master."

"I keep you around because it gives me a buzz to know how much you want her," he massaged Cindy's firm tits, "and how firmly it has been established that you can never have her."

Slave saw in Cindy's fully unleashed smile something that he mistook momentarily for cruelty, and he wondered whether it was this cruelty he had sensed in her when he set her in his heart above all others, eclipsing all others. He realized then, though, that, it was not cruelty -- he wished it was – instead, it was something much colder than cruelty: it was indifference, and the total absence of pity.

"We made a deal," master said, "you, Cindy and I." We agreed that I would let you stay as a slave, and in return you would renounce your designs on Cindy."

"Yes master." Slave knew he was in trouble, and he resisted looking down, though it was like looking into the sun to see Cindy there so perfect, and master behind her, so glorious in his victory. Slave knew that he was utterly vanquished.

"Did he renounce his designs on you Cindy?"

"Au?" Cindy replied, curling her lip in a beautifully vulgar fashion.

"Did he give up on you, or does he still hope you will one day be with him."

"He didn't give up!" she spat out emphatically. "He still try love me. Disgusting," she sneered.

"Is there any way that you could ever love this. . .thing" he said, gesturing dismissively at slave.

"Never!" She made sure slave caught her gaze, and that he held it meekly, as she repeated with grim finality, "Never. Never ever."

"Read my lips," Master joked.

Cindy grinned at Brian, gave him a light slap on the chest, and again forced slave to meet her gaze. Humor and contempt played in the glimmer of her eyes, and in the delicate compression of her lips. "Read my lips," she said. "Never. Never. Never ever. I will never love you."

Slave's mascara was running in tears, and he could not hold her gaze, and so he looked down and began to whimper.

Master said "tsk tsk," and Cindy giggled. "Position Two," Master said, and slave got down on his knees, with his ass cheeks on his ankles. He held his back arched and his chest out. He crossed his wrists behind the small of his back. He could not look up into their eyes. The movement to a new position had stopped the tears, but he needed a moment before he could face them again. 

"Look at me when I am speaking to you! Is that good manners?"

"No, Master. I'm sorry, it's not good manners." Slave looked up at them. Cindy was relaxed and amused, sitting in close to Master. His arm over was her shoulder, and his hand was stroking her hip.

"How many cocks have you sucked?" Master asked.

Slave looked down, abashed, as Cindy's grin widened, creating dimples at either side of her lips.

"Don't look down again you little slut, or I will send you to visit Laura for a caning."

Slave met their gazes. Cindy was grinning like a cat, and rubbing the hard head of master's cock through his trousers.

"I'm not sure Master, maybe twenty" slave answered meekly.

"Did you swallow every time?"

"I tried to, Master." Slave was so mortified, but he resisted looking down, and held their gazes.

"Which one tasted worst?"

"The first one, the Arab guy, Jared, Master."

"Why was that?"

"The flavor was very strong, Master."

"Well, you're the expert."

Cindy snorted in derision, and slave almost looked down again.

"Which one tasted best?"

Slave almost looked down.

"Careful," Master warned, "and quickly."

Slave looked up. Mr Liu, Master, or the young American guy."

"Which one is it?"

"The young American guy, Master." Slave knew the American's name was Brad, but he did not want to say this name.

"What a slut! The best cum you've ever tasted, and you don't even know his name? The young American guy's name is Brad. Later you can phone him to give him the compliment. I'm sure he'll be flattered."

Slave groaned and huffed through his nose. He did not dare to look down though, or show his displeasure in any other way. How could he phone this boy that they were thinking of turning his business over too, and tell him he liked the taste of his cum?

"Here's the deal. Tonight I am going to let you see what you are missing. He lifted Cindy's tit to punctuate this, and she puckered her lips and looked down her nose smugly at slave, right into his humble gaze. "In return for this privilege, you let me take away the last scrap of your dignity, and your last chance to dream that Cindy would ever see you as anything other than rubbish. You've sucked a lot of cocks. Tonight, I want Cindy to see you get your ass fucked."

She lifted one corner of her upper lip, and the nostril on that side flared slightly in contempt. Her Siddhartha eyes held slave at bay. She was not being looked at, she was doing the looking. The thing at which she looked did not have the value to be perceived as something capable of looking: she was looking at an object, at something that could not look back.

"Do you think my cum would taste good?" Master asked.

"Yes Master," slave answered, mostly to do his best for good will, but also because Master was very virile and healthy and he imagined it would taste good, relatively speaking.

Cindy smiled, and Master said "Good boy," and chuckled.

"I'm not a half-half faggot like the guys who have done your mouth and are going to do your ass, but. . .maybe you would like to watch us fuck and then you could clean up Cindy."

Slave exhaled. He nearly swooned. "Oh! Please master," he moaned. He had never seen Cindy naked, and he would do anything for this opportunity. Cindy and Brian broke into peals of laughter at the earnestness of slave's reply.

"I will let you watch us fuck, and clean Cindy up after, if you agree to let as many guys as I choose fuck your ass this evening, and you pay each guy who fucks your ass 100 RMB. Is it a deal?"

Slave looked down, to gather his strength, and then back up. Though he knew he faced a terrible ordeal, he would do anything to see Cindy naked, and so he nodded grimly, and said: "Thank you for this opportunity, Master." Cindy's face broke into her broadest and cruelest smile, and her eyes glittered.

"Lovely," Master said. "Ok, let's go." He stood, and took Cindy's hand, and led her toward the bedroom. He snapped his fingers at slave, and gestured for him to follow. Slave crawled behind them, mesmerized by the rich swaying of Cindy's buttocks, and the soft alabaster of her calves.

Master led Cindy by the hand to his bedside. Slave slowed his crawl, and Master snapped his fingers and pointed to indicate a place closer to them. Slave scurried there and halted. He lowered his ass to his ankles, and crossed his wrists at the small of his back. He thrust out his chest, arched his back, and stared straight in front of him. He had butterflies in his stomach. His face was at the level of their hips. He could see their hands so clearly. Cindy's hands! To be touched in any way by these hands, from kindness or from anger, from compassion or from contempt.

Cindy pulled her turtleneck over her head, and untied her hair. It was wavy, and shoulder length. Her belly was taught, and her waist was slim. She stepped over to slave and, looking down at him with no recognition in her eyes, but a slight curve of a smirk on her satisfied lips, gestured for him to pull of her soft soled shoes. She held out toward him one foot, and then the other, and he slid them from her feet. He wanted to press the insides of these shoes to his mouth and nose, but he didn't dare, so he put them down neatly.

Cindy unbuttoned her skirt, and pulled this and her stockings off. She steadied herself with a hand on slaves head as she pulled the stockings over her ankles. She unsnapped her bra, and her perfect breasts fell forth. Now, she wore only small cotton panties with a plain floral print.

Ah! The exquisite majesty of her naked form: the excruciating spectacle of her naked presence. It all came down to this: everything was about this. Slave was transfixed. His eyes fixed on her, his brain numbly number crunching, trying to seize all the data running through his RAM. He knelt numbly as his brain attempted to soak in every detail of her image. His nostrils dilated to seize any scent of her. His mouth hung slack and gawking. His mascara had run from earlier tears, his wig was scattered and askew. He looked a mess. His cock, locked in an extended spasm, seemed a rocket that would tear itself loose and fly to Cindy, its promised land. His tight nut sack seared in its extended straining into maximum contraction.

Oh! Cindy! How the slim waist tapers gracefully into the rich, rounded hips, the prominent Venus mound, the lush and ample buttocks, the graceful tapering again into slim, smooth alabaster thighs. He groaned softly. It was more than he could bear. How could any man be so lucky as to have the chance to touch and be touched by Cindy. 

Master stepped over to Cindy. He had taken off his shirt. He was fit and healthy. He pulled down Cindy's panties, and she stepped out of these. Master took them, stepped over to slave, and dangled the inverted crotch of these an inch from slave's nostrils. Slave's eyes and nostrils focused on these like four data gathering probes. He carefully edged his nostrils nearer. His appearance was as of one enraptured.

Cindy giggled, and his focus shifted from the crotch of her panties to her near gaze. Her expression was of amused disgust, curling along a smooth line of scorn.

"Go ahead," Master said to slave warmly, "enjoy yourself." Slave focused on the crotch of the panties. He breathed deeply through his nostrils, and he could smell her so clearly. What from any other being would have been loathsome excrement was from her the content of the Holy Grail. He put out his tongue, and followed. Master toyed with him, leading the obsequious, outstretched tongue. Master tossed the panties onto the bed, and slave sank his ass cheeks back down on his ankles, and returned his focus to Cindy's nakedness. His gaze was seized and held by the supple curves of Cindy's hips, their fluid reactions to the shifting of her balance and her weight.

Cindy pointedly shifted her gaze to Brian. She gave Brian a full smile, and let it linger softly and welcomingly as they shared the gaze. How slave wished that he could share such a warm smile with her. She undid master's belt, and the buttons of his trousers. He pulled them down, and stepped away from them. Master's cock was small but perfectly formed, his buttocks firm and muscular. He sat down on the bedside, and pulled Cindy over to him. She stood between his outspread knees, facing him. This was the first chance slave had had to see Cindy's buttocks straight on. Slave let out a sigh of religious adoration, and Cindy and Master turned to look at him, smiling. He knew that they were looking at him, but he could not take his eyes from Cindy's luscious buttocks. Master and Cindy giggled to see his engrossment.

"This is what it's all about, is it?" Master asked. Slave could not speak, he was a gaping idiot. Cindy looked away from slave, back to Brian. Her hands were soft on his shoulders. Master stroked her smooth thighs.

"Come," Master commanded benignly, and slave scuttled close to Cindy's ass. His face was less than a foot from her perfect cheeks.

"This is what it's all about, hey?" He lifted one of the buttocks gently, and let it drop. "Would you like to kiss it?"

"Oh please, Master, please," slave pleaded desperately.

Master chortled. Oh, how the rich ass cheeks became slim, graceful thighs in the subtle shadowing of the creases of the ass.

"Kiss it," Master invited warmly. Slave scuttled forward one small hop, and his face was inches from her ass. He kissed one cheek chastely, afraid to seem over eager, and have Master accuse him of showing not enough respect, and perhaps withdraw the privilege. He kissed the other ass cheek reverently, and then he sighed, and ran his tongue along the underside of the flesh above the crease of the ass, and his open mouth traced carefully the smooth and pendulous flesh. The ass pushed out a bit toward him, forcing his face away. He sank down a bit, sighed, and faced the lowest portion of the crack of her ass, that silken temple of shadows. He leaned forward, pushed his face fully between the cool, heavy flesh of the smooth cheeks. He carefully placed the tip of his tongue on her asshole, as a sign of deepest obeisance. She remained motionless. His nose was buried between her cheeks. He rested, breathing deeply, his eyes examining closely the flesh of the small of her back. She leaned forward, allowing his face to slip deeper between the crack of her ass, and slave could hear Master and her kissing again. Slave moved his tongue slightly, attempting to spoon up something of her essence. She let out a tickled shriek, and then turned and slapped him. "Tao yen!" -- annoying -- she scolded. He did not cringe, or attempt to move away from the hand raised for another slap, but focused completely on Cindy's pussy, which was now little more than a foot from his face. She slapped him again sharply, and then turned back to Master. Master leaned back, and she straddled his thighs. Master slid his cock into her pussy, and she began to rock back and forth on him, her amazing waist and hips and thighs and ass undulating miraculously.

How could any man be so lucky as to become one with this being? It was beyond slave's imagination. Master truly was the master. Cindy sank down on his front, draping her breasts over his chest, gripping his shoulders, and crushing her lips against his, seeking out his wet tongue with her own. They moved together frantically, athletically. Slave could hear a wet, squelching sound from Cindy's pussy. She ground her hips down into where they were connected, and made tiny, tender noises.

Master rolled over on top of Cindy. They were in profile to slave. Their pace quickened: Cindy groaned. Slave could hear the slapping together of their flesh, and their ecstasy. Slave cupped his own balls with one hand, and began to rub his turgid cock with the other. He was actively drooling. Master looked up from sucking Cindy's nipple, with his Clooney eye, and warned "don't come, bitch." Cindy rolled her head to the side and surveyed slave briefly, Siddhartha eyes, as if he were a thing. Master and Cindy began to kiss deeply again, and again picked up the pace of their lovemaking. They were gasping together in excitation. Cindy let out a high pitched sigh, and then sank back. Master thrust again, and let out a loud, throaty grunt, before letting down his weight onto Cindy. She held his shoulders tightly, and they breathed deeply. He rested fully inside her. This, thought slave, still pulling at his own cock, must be the best thing ever. He so envied master. Slave was panting like a dog, and drooling too, but he tried to be quiet, as he did not want to disturb these gods in their sacred moment. Slave wondered, with slight terror, whether or not they would allow him to cum now. He had never needed to shoot so desperately. His cock was overworked. Its turgidity had been worked out of it, and now it was dangling, heavy and ropey, but still he pumped at it, urging it on, his throat dry, while Cindy and Master lay together breathing heavily, flesh pressed to flesh, kissing tenderly, drinking at the fonts of one another's mouths.

Master rolled off Cindy. He turned her legs gently, so that her knees hung over the edge of the bed. He spread her knees, and said to slave: "Enough wanking. Come here." Master was up on one elbow, massaging one of Cindy's breasts. Her nipples were hard. Slave could not see Cindy's face. Thick, white cum was beginning to ooze out of her damp pussy. Slave kissed one of her knees devotedly. His hips were pumping mechanically, beyond his control. He felt the smooth, cool alabaster of her inner thigh with his cheek. He began to lick his way along her inner thigh toward her cum filled pussy. He could already smell its sharp, rich odor. He could hear them kissing. As he neared her pussy, Cindy lifted her heels to the edge of the bed. The movement allowed a rivulet of Master's sperm to migrate toward Cindy's asshole. Slave lapped at this rivulet, and then scooped at her soft, soaking pussy with his tongue, drawing out the biggest globs. He swallowed this, and his mouth filled with saliva. He began to suck hungrily at the remaining cum in her pussy, snaking his tongue deep in after it. Her pussy was so soft and moist: he buried his face in it. Cindy began to groan, and to writhe her hips. Slave sucked at her clit, and pushed his tongue deep and drinkingly into her pussy. She locked her thighs to his ears, and held his temples steady with her fingertips. 




Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 09



About a week later, Peter was at Brian's apartment that Saturday at 9:00 am. He was on his knees in the living room cleaning the grout between the marble tiles with a toothbrush. He could hear Brian in the other room playing a computer game.

He heard a key in the front door, and then Cindy entered the apartment. She took off her jacket and hung it on a hook. She looked down at Peter with what seemed to him to be a false smile, and said, "Good morning, Peter."

"Good morning, Cindy."

She slipped off her shoes, and stepped into slippers, then walked past Peter into the room where Brian was. Peter was in his cock cage again, and watching her miraculous ass pass him in light trousers, he felt some discomfort. Brian had stopped playing the computer game, and he could hear them talking, but could not make out what they were saying.

Brian and Cindy came into the living room, and Brian said, "Put away your cleaning things, and then come here. Cindy and I want to speak with you."

Peter poured out the water from the basin, and put the basin and the toothbrush with the cleaning things under the sink. He came back into the living room. Cindy and Brian were seated on the sofa. He went over to them, and sunk to his knees humbly in front of them, folding his hands in his lap. 

Cindy stared down at him with her Siddhartha eyes, and then looked at Brian. Brian said "Cindy, would you tell him, please?"

Cindy looked at Brian, and pursed her lips in hesitation. She then found her resolve, and fixed a cold and distant gaze upon him. She spoke in her most professional tone. "We are going to send you away for a while. Maybe some months. Brian know a place can help you with your mental problems. You can come back to Beijing when your problems are fixed. We take you there tomorrow morning."

She held his eyes, and waited for his response.

"Cindy, what about our company," he whined.

"Brad can do your job. You remember Brad?" A glimmer of malice entered her cool eyes when she said this, and one lip curled upward almost imperceptibly.

He looked in her eyes pleadingly, but her jaw jutted forward with resolve. "You should say thank you to Brian. He try to help you," she said.

Peter looked down, devastated, trying to let it sink in. "He looked up again, and with pain in his eyes, said "Thank you Master."

"You will stay away until you can look Cindy in the eyes, and say to her honestly 'I don't love you anymore.'"

He looked into Cindy's eyes, and with deep pain in his expression, rejected this possibility with the shaking of his head. She met his eyes with rejection and scorn.

"The other option open to you, is to say that you don't want to be my slave anymore. At this point though, if you do that, Cindy will quit working at your company and find another job."

Shocked, Peter looked up at Cindy for confirmation, and she nodded her head in affirmation, her eyes cold and her jaw jutting forward with resolve.

Peter looked down again, and then back up at them and said, humbly, "Thank you Master. Thank you Cindy."

"You can get changed and go home now. Be here at 9:00 tomorrow morning. You won't need to wear anything under your tracksuit except your pink faggot collar tomorrow morning, and you won't need to pack anything. Park in the car park under my building. You don't need to come up."

"Thank you Master," Peter said. He put the grey tracksuit over his maid's outfit, and went to the door. He opened the door and said "Good bye Master. Good bye Cindy." Brian waved him away with his hand, but Cindy did not look up at him.

Peter arrived in the car park beneath Brian's building at 8:50 the next morning. He waited until 9:15, and then he heard the music of Cindy's happy voice in the bleak, echoing space of the car park. Cindy and Brian approached the car, and Brian gestured for him to get out of the car. Peter got out of the car, and stood facing them. Cindy said "Good morning, Peter." Her smile seemed a little smug, but was mostly neutral, and natural.

"Good morning, Cindy. Good morning, Master." 

Brian said, "Take off what you're wearing."

They both stood watching him in silence as he took off his shoes and his grey track suit. Brian indicated for him to put the clothes that he took off on the floor off the car park, and when Peter was naked, he kicked these over toward a wall. 

Peter stood in front of them totally naked except for the pink cock cage and the pink faggot collar. His body was white and hairless. He looked around nervously, but there was no one else in the car park. Brian was wearing Bermuda shorts, sandals and a Hawaii shirt. His legs were tanned and hairy, and Peter was vaguely nauseated to see that these were the legs of the man that Cindy lay together with, and made love with. Cindy was wearing red track suit bottoms and a loose pink T-shirt. Even beneath such loose and casual clothes, her voluptuous curves were apparent. She carried a plastic bag in which were snacks and bottles of water.

Brian reached into his pocket, pulled out his key ring, and handed it to Peter. "You can take that off," he said, gesturing at the cock cage. They both watched with curiosity as he undid the padlock, slipped it from the pin, and then separated the sheath from the ring behind his balls and freed himself. He handed Brian back his key chain and held onto the reassembled device. 

"I'll drive," Brian said to Peter, "you sit in the back." 

Peter got into the back seat, and sat directly behind Brian, who sat in the driver's seat. Cindy sat in the passenger seat. The car was an SUV, and it was easy for Cindy to look at Peter. Even if she only turned to look at Brian, she could see Peter from the corner of her eye; naked, hairless and white, seated behind Brian. The keys were in the ignition and Brian started the car and left the car park.

As soon as he had taken off the cock cage, Peter's cock had begun to stiffen. Now, because of his proximity to Cindy, it was fully erect, and bobbing obscenely in front of him. They were well under way before Cindy glanced back at him. She held his eyes with a reassuring smile for a moment, and then looked down at his cock, and gazed at it for several seconds, before looking back at the road.

"Is he hard?" Brian asked.

"Yes, very hard."

Brian let out a slightly annoyed humph through his nostrils, but said nothing.

"Like dog," Cindy sneered.

They drove awhile in silence through the Beijing traffic. Peter was so horny. He could barely resist jacking off. He let his fingers touch his supersensitive cock a few times, and a tear of pre cum began to ooze out of its eye. 

"I was at this place last week to book him in. It's beautiful. After we check Peter in, we can spend the day there before coming back. It's got a beautiful swimming pool, a sauna, massages, a few nice walks up into the hills, and some beautiful gardens. There are horses if you want to go horse riding.

"Don't want horse riding, I'm afraid."

"These are nice horses, nothing to be afraid of."

"Don't want. We could go swimming. But I don't know how."

"I can teach you."

Peter's cock pulsed as though it were set to burst as he pictured Cindy in a bathing suit, her skin slick and shining. He took the head of his cock between two fingers, and squeezed it tentatively. An unbearable intensity of pleasure was welling up inside him, and he held his breath so that he would not let out a moan of pleasure, and be found out.

They were on the highway now, headed out of Beijing. Cindy tore open a package of dried fruit. She proffered the open bag to Brian, and he reached into it and took a few pieces. She turned sideways, and held the open bag out to Peter. She met his eyes with a smile, but then her gaze went down to his stiff cock. "Wo de tianna, hai yo" – my god, still. She looked up into his eyes again with her jaw set forward, and shook the open bag toward him again.

""No, thank you Cindy."

She turned back around, and started snacking on the dried fruit.

"Shen jing bing" -- mental problems -- she muttered to herself.

They were driving through scenic roads now, and Brian and Cindy were watching what was around them. Peter watched her profile. He could see the weighty curve of her breasts under her pink T shirt, and her thighs and knees under the red track pants. Being naked, so near to her, he could not resist, and he began to furtively stroke his cock with two fingers. The swirling of pleasure in his balls, his belly and his soul was near unbearable. Cindy took a bottle of water from the bag and turned to hand it to him, just catching him as he froze under her gaze. She looked down at his cock, sneered, and said "aiyo," and then handed him the water, saying "Here you are." 

"Thank you, Cindy," he said. 

Cindy opened and handed Brian a bottle of water.

"Was he jerking off?" Brian asked.

"Yes, I think so."

Brian chuckled, and shook his head. "That's why we need to keep him in the cock cage."

"I think so," Cindy laughed.

"I really hope they can help him at this place."

They drove through winding country roads, and then Brian pulled off to a side road, and stopped in front of a gate. There was a security booth beside the gate, manned by a middle aged Chinese man in a very formal guard's uniform, with braids and tassels. Brian got out and went over to speak with the guard. The guard made a phone call. Cindy watched Brian and the guard with curiosity, and then turned around to Peter. She looked in his eyes with sincere concern and asked, "Are you ok?" 

"I'm ok, thank you Cindy."

She gave him a brave smile, and continued to study him. His nervousness was showing on his face. She looked down and saw that his cock was only half hard. Brian returned to the car as the gate swung open, humming electrically, and grinding gears.

They drove forward through a tree canopied way. The road was gravel and it grumbled beneath the wheels of the car. Cindy and Brian rolled down their windows, and there was the fresh and clean smell of nature. The left the canopy of leaves and branches, and continued across a long, lush lawn stretching up toward an enormous, grey, European style mansion. On either side of lane, there were men, a few women and people of indeterminate sex tending the lawns and the gardens. They wore tight white shorts, white tennis shoes, and white tennis shirts. Some were bald, and some seemed to be wearing wigs. Around them were a few men, Chinese and foreign, dressed like bouncers, in black trousers and black T-shirts. They seemed to be monitoring the work of the people dressed in white. In the distance, there were a few casually dressed people walking along a path, and a person dressed in white behind them, carrying what seemed to be a picnic basket. Cindy was asking Peter questions in whispered Chinese. She seemed curious and amazed. Peter could not follow what they were saying. 

There was a beautiful and kind looking middle aged Chinese women between two men dressed in black at the foot of the stairs leading up to the grand front doors of the mansion. Brian parked the car beside two other parked cars. There were two men dressed in tight white shorts, tennis shirts and shoes washing these cars with buckets, sponges and hoses. Another person dressed in white stood very still with his nose to the wall of the mansion. His shorts were pulled down above his knees, and his ass was glowing red. Cindy whispered to Brian, and giggled nervously. As they got out of the car, none of the people dressed in white even glanced at them, but the men dressed in black stared hard at Peter, sizing him up.

The beautiful middle aged Chinese woman, dressed in a long black dress approached them, flanked by the two men in black. Peter hobbled behind Cindy and Brian across the hot gravel of the drive way in his bare feet. The woman said "Hello, Brian," and shook his hand. She turned to Cindy, smiled charmingly, and said "And you must be Cindy. You are very beautiful."

"Thank you so much. You are beautiful too."

"Thank you. My name is Zhang Xue." She and Cindy shook hands, and then Ms Zhang turned to Peter, and said, "And this must be Peter."

"Hello Ms Zhang," Peter said.

"Peter," she said strictly, but not unkindly, "I was not addressing you. I was addressing Cindy. While you are here, you must not speak unless you are addressed directly. Do you understand?"

Cindy and Brian were staring at him now. There was a glimmer of amusement in Cindy's eye. The men dressed in black, flanking Ms Zhang, glared at him menacingly.

"Yes, Ms Zhang."

"Also, while you are here, you must never look at another person's eyes. When you are with other people, you only look here," and she pointed at her crotch. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ms Zhang," he said as he averted his gaze away from all the eyes upon him, and looked down at Ms Zhang's crotch. He heard Cindy giggle, the music of her voice, but the privilege of looking at her no longer belonged to him. He did not know whether or not Cindy was looking at him, or whether or not she even glanced at him, as Ms Zhang said, "Let's go inside and get the paper work out of the way, and then we can show you two around the place, and you can choose how you want to spend your day. I'm sure you'll have a lovely time while you are here." They walked toward the stairs up to the main doors. Peter was hobbling on the hot gravel, and his eyes were fixed upon Cindy's miraculous ass, so protuberant under her red track pants. His cock, which had shrunk from nerves, began to swell again, but without being allowed to look up, he could not tell if anyone had noticed. He hoped the men dressed in black had not. 

Ms Zhang led them into the mansion, and down a hall. It was cooler inside. Peter's cock was semi erect from watching Cindy's ass as he followed them. He heard Ms Zhang comment "His cock is very strong."

Cindy said dismissively "Wo bu zhe dao" -- I don't know.

"I see," said Ms Zhang knowingly.

They entered a beautifully furnished office. The two men in black entered and stood at either side of the door. Ms Zhang took Peter's arm and steered him so that he was standing with his back to the wall. "When you are in attendance in a room, stand with your back to the wall. Shoulders back. . . good. . . hands behind your back."

"Yes Ms Zhang."

"Don't speak unless you are asked a direct question." She squeezed his hard cock, and said, "Very nice."

Please have a seat, she said to Brian and Cindy. They sat down at one side of a huge, carved mahogany desk, and Ms Zhang sat down across from them. Peter heard the rustling of papers, and from his peripheral vision, he saw her hand a sheaf of paper toward Cindy. "He is your slave?" Ms Zhang asked.

"No," Cindy said emphatically, "he's Brian's."

"I'm sorry. I see," Ms Zhang said, passing the papers to Brian instead. "Is he gay?"

"Emphatically," Brian said.

"I see," Ms Zhang said skeptically. "I wonder why he is always watching Cindy?" Without giving them a chance to answer, she continued: "Brian, have you brought in two photos?"

"Yes, I have them here." He put the photos down on the table, and one of the men who had been standing by the door came and took these, and left the room.

Peter could not tell if and when anyone was looking at him. He stood against the wall, with his hands behind his back and his shoulders back, while Brian completed the contract. When Brian put down the pen, Ms Zhang said "Peter, please approach the table."

Peter came forward. He stood beside the table between Cindy and Brian. His cock began to rise again from his proximity to Cindy.

Cindy said "Hai! Again!" and Ms Zhang chuckled softly.

"Peter, please have a look at the contract. This contract states that you have come here willingly to receive training. If you are satisfied with the contract, and you wish to continue on as Brian's slave, please sign in the appropriate place."

Peter scanned the contract. For special talents, it said erotic dancing. For dress style, it said sissy. For sexual orientation, it said gay. Peter did not care what the contract said. He did not want Cindy to leave his business, and he would never look her in the eye and tell her that he didn't love her. He picked up the pen and signed at the appropriate place.

"Go back to the wall," Ms Zhang said, and Peter returned to the place he had stood before he had been called to the table, and reassumed his waiting posture. His hard cock bobbled in front of him.

"The guard will be back with your photos in a few moments. After that, we will take Peter away and begin his training. I will assign two slaves to attend to you, and to show you around. There's a lot to do here, and you are welcome to avail of anything we have. Make yourself at home, and I'm sure you'll have a wonderful day. Dinner will be served in the main hall at 6:30."

"Thank you so much," Cindy said graciously.

"You're very welcome."

"Yes, thank you," Brian added. 

The guard came back with the photos, placed them on the table, and went back to wait at the door. Ms Zhang picked up the photos and walked over to Peter. He was careful to keep his eyes down at the level of her crotch. She showed him the two photos. One was the size of a passport photo, and it had been sealed in a hard, transparent plastic case, that hung from a chain. The other was larger, and had been placed in a frame with a foldable stand. Brian's face grinned out of both photos, with his Clooney eyes. You will keep these photos near you always to remind you of why you are here, and who you belong to. Ms Zhang affixed the small photo to Peter's collar, so that it dangled beside the heart shaped faggot tag. She handed the other, framed photo to Peter, and said, "This one should sit on the locker beside your bed. Now, you can go over and say thank you to your master, before we take you away."

Peter went over to Brian. He stared down at Brian's crotch, so that though he could tell that Cindy was looking up at him, he could not tell from her expression what she felt. "Thank you Master," Peter said humbly. 

"You can speak freely now to Brian, if there is anything you would like to say."

"I can never look Cindy in the eye and tell her I don't love her. I am sorry Master, but I just can't do it, but I will be your slave for as long as you will keep me, Master. Please don't ask Cindy to leave my business." Tears were welling up in his eyes, and he spoke the last sentence with a quaver in his voice. He wanted so much to look away from Brian's crotch, his Bermuda shorts and hairy suntanned legs, and into Cindy's Siddhartha eyes, which he could feel were moving over his face like sunlight dancing on water.

"Is that it?" 

"Yes Ms Zhang."

The two guards at the door came and took Peter by either arm, and led him out of the room, naked white and hairless, his cock bobbling like a bobble head doll in the back window of a car, and carrying under one arm a framed photo of Brian with his glibly grinning Clooney eyes.

Oh Cindy, please. . .

The two guards led Peter down a hall, around a corner, up a flight of stairs, and down another hall. They led him into a small, windowless bedroom, in which were two very narrow but well made single beds. One of the guards took the framed photo of Brian from Peter, and placed it on the bedside table beside one of the beds. On this bed was a pair of white shorts and a white tennis shirt. Under this bed were white tennis shoes. There was a similarly framed photo on the bedside table of the other bed. "Sit here," said the guard, indicating the bed beside Brian's photo.

The two guards left the room, leaving the door open. There was a chair in the center of the room, facing the space between the two beds. There was a clothes rack, with maid's outfits and other feminine clothes. There was no clock in the room, and he could not tell how much time was passing. There was a security camera looking down into the room from above the door. Peter imagined that Cindy and Brian were enjoying the beautiful day. He winced when he thought that Cindy was probably in a bathing suit now, and that Brian was teaching her to swim. He could not bear to think of this. He thought about Brad joining his company on Monday. Brad was very charming, and no doubt all of the staff would get along with him very well.




Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 09



He heard footsteps in the hallway, and he sat up straight and placed his palms flat on his thighs. Ms Zhang entered, flanked by two guards. The guards stood at either side of the door, and Ms Zhang sat in the chair facing the space between the two beds. Peter was not sure what to do, so he tried to display his willingness to obey by remaining still and not looking up.

"Peter, please stand up," Ms Zhang said in a soft and reasonable voice.

Peter stood up, facing Ms Zhang, with his shoulders back, and his arms at his sides. He did not say 'yes, Ms Zhang,' as he understood he should only speak when asked to speak. He looked down at the level of her crotch, and was careful not to look up at her face, although he could barely remember what she looked like. Ms Zhang said nothing for a few minutes, and Peter stood stock still, waiting on instruction.

"While you are here, you will make no choices for yourself. You will only do what you are told. If you have not been told to do something, you will not do anything. You will simply stand or wait until you are told to do something. You must never look in another person's eyes. You must never speak unless you are directly asked to speak, and when you do speak, express yourself as concisely as possible." Ms Zhang's tone was not cruel or gloating, it was simply straightforward.

"Do you understand these things Peter?"

"Yes, Ms Zhang."

Ms Zhang stood and walked around Peter, inspecting his body. She stood behind him, and pinched the flesh of his ass. Peter remained unmoving, staring down in front of himself. Ms Zhang went and sat down again in front of him. 

"Your cock is only average when it's soft, but when it's hard it's really beautiful."

Ms Zhang said nothing for a few moments after this, and Peter wondered whether or not he was mean to say "Thank you Ms Zhang." She had not asked him to speak however, so he resisted the urge.

"It is very rare to find a slave with such a nice cock. You are quite unique. Can you be a top, Peter? That cock would be a real treat for some of the sissy's here."

"I think I couldn't get hard Ms Zhang. I'm not top, and not bottom, and I'm not straight, and not gay. I'm only aroused by Cindy. Since I have known her nothing else has made me feel aroused: nothing. I am only Brian's slave because Cindy has rejected me, and this is the only way I can think of to give myself to her."

"Poor boy," Ms Zhang said sincerely. "You are a very special slave. You remind me of something I have read: "I can actually believe that under unusual circumstances, in a period of great deeds, what seems to be your weakness would reveal itself as extraordinary power. Do you know these words, Peter?"

"Yes, Ms Zhang, it is something Wanda says to Sevrin in Venus in Furs."

"Brian wants us to cure you of your love for Cindy: in fact, he wants us to try to turn you into a gay. I can't do this. I won't do this. Of course as a slave you will have to learn how to please men, but I would not destroy devotion as pure as yours for Cindy. Your devotion is a thing of beauty."

Ms Zhang stood, and walked behind Peter, and then returned, holding the framed photo of Brian. "I have a gift for you Peter. I found this on Facebook after Cindy and Brian went swimming. She took a small photo of Cindy from her pocket, and put it in the lower left hand corner of the photo of Brian." She placed this back on the bed side table.

Peter knew the photo of Cindy that Ms Zhang had given him. It came from before the time she had seen him as a maid at Laura's apartment, from a time when there was still a possibility that she would be with him. He had taken that photo of Cindy. She was smiling, happy and open in that photo.

Peter began to tremble. He fought back a wave of tears, but he could not stop his body shaking. Ms Zhang came over and stoked his back, and spoke soothingly: "There, there, don't cry love, you'll be ok. Keep being brave. I'm so proud of you. I know that there is no one else in this world that would encourage you to remain true to this dream, but I am doing so."

"She stepped away from him, toward the door, and then turned back, and said. "It is a hard road you are walking. I have seen another that I loved, broken by this road. I will be watching out for you Peter. You may not be able to tell, but please remember this. Please be brave. Please make me proud." She took another step toward the door, and then stopped and said, "Remember, you must remain standing until you are told to do otherwise."

She left the room, and the two guards followed her, not closing the door.

Peter remained standing for hours. His roommate entered, and he remained standing. They said nothing to one another, and Peter resisted looking up to see what sort of person he was sharing this room with. His roommate was sleeping, snoring gently, before a guard came and said to Peter, "Go to bed."

Peter got into bed, and the guard turned off the lights in the room, but did not close the door.

Life at the mansion was strict, but not unreasonably cruel. In some ways, for the slaves, it was as much like life at a monastery as it was like life at an S and M resort. Each slave was very alone. Slaves very rarely had the chance to speak, and they never looked into the face of another person. The slaves were served three meals a day in the slave's dining room, where they ate with the guards. The slaves' dining room was very like a cafeteria. There was another dining hall where guests and owners ate.

There were three levels in the hierarchy at the mansion. At the bottom of this were the slaves. Most of the slaves were men, although there were some women also. Most of the slaves were western, although a few were Chinese. They usually wore the white terry towel shorts, white tennis shoes and tennis shirts, although if they were doing indoors service jobs they dressed in maid's outfits. 

Above the slaves were the guards. The guards dressed in black trousers, black tennis shoes and black shirts. They usually carried with them a leather strap. Most of the guards were men, but there were a few women. The guards ate with the slaves, and slept in the same section of the mansion with the slaves. They could be cruel and vindictive, but they knew that they had to follow the regulations of the mansion very closely, and could not take liberties with the slaves, or they would be asked to leave. Some of them seemed to be simply men with low educations who could find no other job. Among this type were Chinese people from the countryside, and backpacker types from the west. Some of them seemed to be sadists, for whom work at the mansion was a fulfillment of their calling. Among this type were mostly fat little western men.

Above the guards were owners and guests. The owners and guests were more women than men, and about half Chinese and half foreign. Usually they only visited the mansion for a day of recreation, although some of them stayed longer, for a week or two at a time. Guests and owners inhabited a different part of the house from the slaves and guards. They never wore S and M style clothing, but dressed instead in casual holiday clothes. Peter was not sure about all that went on at the mansion, as the slaves never spoke amongst themselves, but it seemed to him that the owners and guests did not often make use of the slaves in a sexual way. The slaves were by no means the center of attention at the mansion. The guests and owners only utilized the services of the slaves, and never engaged the slaves in conversation. He had, however, witnessed slaves summoned from their beds late at night, and led toward the part of the mansion that the guests and owners inhabited.

Slaves had no access to clocks, watches or calendars, so time seemed to become vague and circular. Peter guessed that they had breakfast at 6:00 am, worked until 12:00, when they had lunch, worked until 6:00 pm, when they had dinner, and then worked until 9:00, when they went to bed. Slaves needed to attend to their personal hygiene very carefully. They were given a chance to do so before morning, noon and evening meals. They nails, their bodies, their teeth and their ears were carefully inspected after every meal by the guards, and any shortcoming was punished immediately. At night, the doors of their rooms were never closed. During the days, there was an incredible amount of work to be done, and the tasks that each slave was assigned were constantly changing.

There was cooking, serving, and cleaning up for other slaves and the guards, as well as the owners and masters. There was dusting, and tidying and tending flowers throughout the mansion, and there were many beds to be made, and washrooms and toilets to be cleaned. There was an incredible amount of laundry, from other slaves, guards, guests and owners. In fact, there seemed to be so much laundry, that some of this laundry must have been coming in from an external source.

In the front of the mansion, there were lawns and flower beds to be tended. The cars of guests and owners that parked in front needed to be washed and vacuumed as soon as they arrived, and daily for as long as they remained. In the back, the pool and its area needed to be cleaned and maintained. There were stables with five horses and tack to be cleaned and maintained. There was a vegetable garden that needed to be maintained, and paths through the forests that also needed to be maintained. Slaves were sometimes assigned to tend to the individual needs of guests and owners.

Discipline that was administered by the guards was strict, but not arbitrary. It was apparent that the guards would have loved a freer hand in the administration of their disciplinary duties, but they knew that they would lose their jobs if they did so. Discipline administered by the guards always consisted of a strapping of the naked buttocks, followed by extended time spent either kneeling or standing in stillness at a dictated point, with shorts dropped to display the results of the strapping. Punishment was always administered for a specific reason, and before administering a punishment, the punishing guard had to declare loudly the reason for the punishment. Peter had seen slaves punished in other ways by guests and masters, and this sort of punishment seemed to be arbitrary, and recreational.

The most odious duty of the slaves was providing the guards with sexual release. Each evening, after dinner, several slaves were taken to the guards' recreational room. The selection of slaves for this task did not seem to be arbitrary, but instead according to a rota. In the guards' recreation room, the slaves were left kneeling along one wall of the room, with their hands behind their backs, their mouths open and their tongues out. The slaves were kept in this position for what seemed to be about two hours. Whatever the duration, it was certainly a regulated period of time. During this time, the guards would lounge around watching television, playing cards and drinking beer. Usually when they wanted to use a slave, they simply walked over to the front of a slave, undid their flies, and pushed their cocks into a slaves open mouth. The slaves were required to swallow the discharge of the guards, and were punished for failure to do so. Sometimes though, the guards would bend a slave over, and make use of the slave's ass. The guards had certain favorites, and it was possible for a slave to remain kneeling for the allotted time without being noticed, while another slave was used by all of the guards, once or multiple times.

The sexual release of the slaves was strictly monitored. In regular rotation, groups of slaves were led to a designated room after dinner. Each group was taken away for this purpose about once a week. One end of the room was tiled, and had three shower faucets, and the other end of the room was carpeted, and had sofas and coffee tables. There were two doors into the room, one from the carpeted end, and one from the tiled end. As the slaves entered the room, they stripped down, and took a length of toilet paper from a roll there waiting for them. They knelt down on at the tiled end of the room, facing the carpeted end of the room, and its sofas, placed the toilet paper in front of themselves, and began to masturbate. As soon as they began to masturbate, a guard set a large stopwatch for half an hour. The slaves were required to masturbate for half an hour, and ejaculate immediately as the alarm went for half an hour. If a slave did not cum, that slave was not punished, but did not have a chance to cum again until the next rotation, a week later. 

Two guards were always in attendance during this time. Occasionally, masters and guests were seated in the sofas at the carpeted end of the room, watching the slaves, or simply chatting. After the alarm went, the slaves had to deposit the soiled tissue paper in a designated trash can, and gather together beneath the three shower heads to clean up.

Peter learned the hard way the consequences of failure to comply with the mansions protocol for the sexual release of slaves. The slaves' white terry towel shorts were very revealing, and unlike some of the other slaves, who began to show it as the week without release progressed, Peter was never hard. Twice, he had been to the room for masturbation, and had not managed to cum. In the evenings, the slaves lay in bed for half an hour before the lights were turned off. During this time, Peter would gaze at his photo of Cindy, trying to block out the image of Brian looming over it. When he looked at this photo of Cindy, he inevitably became hard. After two weeks without sexual release, Peter was in a terrible state of sexual arousal as he gazed at the photo of Cindy. He imagined that he was kneeling in front of her, and that she was accepting him as her slave. He began to stroke his hard cock furtively beneath the covers. 

After just a few minutes of touching himself, he heard hurried steps in the corridor, and two guards stepped into the room and turned on the light. One guard ordered him to get out of the bed, bend over and place his hands on this bed. As slaves were required to sleep naked, he was wearing nothing but the pink collar with the small photo of Brian attached to it. The other guard said loudly "This slave is being punished for masturbating without permission." This was the first time Peter had been punished. The guard who had made the announcement began to beat his ass with a heavy leather strap. The beating was more severe than any he had seen yet. He had to keep count, and he received one hundred blows. He was shaking and in tears by the time he had received fifty. His ass felt as if it had been skinned.

The guards then went to either side of him, took his arms, and led him to the front steps of the mansion. They stood him standing with his face to the wall near the doors, and then left him there. He stood there all night. When the slaves began to leave the house for their work, after breakfast and bathing, he was still standing there. A guard came to him, and gave him his duties for the day. The rest of the day he followed a normal routine, but he was not given an opportunity to dress. He was naked, with only the pink collar and his red ass.

Sometimes, in the evenings, after dinner, a group of slaves were selected, and taken to another room. They remained in that room for some time before reappearing, dressed in elaborate sissy outfits, and being led in single file up the stairs to the second floor. One evening, a couple of weeks after his arrival, Peter was among those slaves selected after dinner. He was asked to stand against the wall until the full contingent of six slaves was lined up, and then they were led into a room which he had never entered before. The six slaves were lined up against one wall. There were two pretty young Chinese women in the room, and they took the slaves two at a time, applied make up and dressed them in flouncy lingerie, short, flared, frilly skirts, and often bonnets. The outfits were not uniform, but elaborate, unique, revealing, and ridiculously sissy. 

When all slaves had been dressed and made up, they were led in single file to the second floor, and taken to a large, elaborately furnished room. Ms Zhang and several guests and owners sat on the plush leathers sofas placed around the walls, sipping vintage wine or spirits. Some of the men smoked cigars. They were tended by slave's dressed in maid's outfits. 

The six sissies were led to stand on a narrow podium at one end of the room, facing the sofas. If Ms Zhang was in conversation with the guests, the sissies were ignored. When the guests and owners were ready, they discussed the sissies, occasionally calling one forward for a closer look, before sending that sissy back to the wall. Some of the sissies were called forward to dance for Ms Zhang and the guests. Peter was the first slave called forward to dance, and he performed the dance that Laura had taught him. He received applause when he was finished, so he felt he must have performed reasonably well.

Later, the sissies were paired off, and instructed to slow dance together in the space in the middle of the sofas. They were instructed to kiss, and to play with each other's cocks. Some were instructed to kneel down and give their partner a blowjob, some were instructed to lie down on the floor and make out, French kissing and dry humping. Some were instructed to get down on the floor and sixty nine. All of the slaves were very horny, and some of them were groaning and whimpering, but Ms Zhang reminded them firmly not to cum. Peter, however, could not get more than half hard. He was disgusted to French kiss a man's mouth tenderly, even if this mouth was heavily made up. He hated touching another cock with his hand, and would even have preferred to suck the cock than use his hand. Most of all, he hated having his cock touched by another man, even though this man was well trained and touched him very tenderly.

Over the next months, Peter was called to this room a number of times, perhaps once a week. He did his very best to please to please the sissy that he was paired with, and in doing so to please Ms Zhang, but he just could not become more than half hard. As time went on at the manor, his sexual desire seemed to go into hibernation, and he worried that he had become impotent.

For what seemed like months, Peter had not seen Cindy and Brian. He did not know if they had visited, and he had simply failed to see them, or if they had forgotten about him all together. The leaves were turning yellow and red, and falling from the trees. One day, Peter was at the front of the mansion washing the guests and owners' cars, when he noticed his own car coming up the drive. 

Peter was dressed in white terry towel shorts, white tennis shoes and shirt. His cock began to stiffen at the thought of Cindy. He was sponging a white Audi, and his own car pulled into the space beside it. The doors of his car opened, and he heard Cindy's voice say to Brian "It's Peter." Peter knew he should not, but he could not resist, and he glanced up at Cindy's eyes. She was looking down at the bulge of his cock under the white shorts, and she looked up and caught his eyes; her Siddhartha eyes, exotic butterflies, her flushed cheeks. 

Immediately, a hand seized his arm, breaking his connection with her eyes, and pushed him over the front of the hood of his own car. His shorts were roughly pulled down to above his knees, and a voice declared "This slave is being punished for looking into the face of a guest."

There was a loud crack, and a shock of pain as the strap struck his naked buttocks. He whimpered "One." As the strapping continued, he tossed his head with the shock of the pain, and saw for an instant that Brian and Cindy were standing watching. The strapping continued, and the next time he tossed his head that way, he noticed that Brian was still watching, but that Cindy was walking on toward the front door of the mansion by herself.




Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 09



After one hundred blows, his ass was scarlet, and he was trembling with tears. He was led over to the wall, and stood facing it with his shorts around his knees, and his scarlet ass on display. He could hear that another slave was washing his car. His cock stood up in front of him, from his proximity to Cindy, and the fact that he had been punished for her sake. His ass was burning, but he welcomed this pain, as he was again suffering directly for his love of Cindy.

After some time, he heard Cindy's voice as she and Brian left the mansion. He did not dare to look up. Cindy stopped talking as they passed behind him. He wondered if Cindy could see that his cock was hard, and his cock jumped and jolted at the thought. He listened to the crunching of their footsteps in the gravel. When they were perhaps ten meters past him, he heard Cindy begin to chatter happily again.

He was left standing at the wall for a few hours, and then taken down to the laundry room, where he spent the rest of the afternoon, and the evening after dinner. He did not see or hear Cindy again, though he kept listening for her voice. How he wished he had been allowed to serve the table in the guests and master's dining hall that evening. He was so envious of the slave who had been assigned to tend Cindy and Brian that day.

Autumn had passed: the trees were bare, and it was early winter. Peter was summoned from washing dishes, and two guards led him by both arms toward a room that he had never entered before. A guard knocked at the door, and he heard Cindy's voice say come in. The guard opened the door, and pushed him into the room, then closed the door behind him. 

Cindy was sitting alone in an armchair in an elaborately furnished room. She was beside a window, which ivy curled around sides of. He did not dare to look up at her eyes. She was wearing tight denim jeans, and soft soled shoes. He stood looking down at her curvaceous hips, while she said nothing. His cock had grown stiff instantly beneath the white terry towel, and he did not know if she was looking at this or at his face.

"Peter, I want tell you something. You can leave here if you want. I'm not with Brian anymore. Brian is not man for me. I want find a man who will do what I say, who only love me, and can give me a family. . ."

Peter could not resist: to follow the rules of the mansion was to carry a weight that was too much for him. He looked up at Cindy, pressed his hands to his chest in desperation, and said "Cindy, that's me!"

Cindy had been gazing at his cock, and her cheeks were flushed. She looked up and met his eyes. She was wearing glasses, and her eyes flashed threateningly. Her jaw was forward defiantly.

"Ms Zhang told me you follow rules here! You want me call in guard?"

Peter looked down humbly. 

"Ms Zhang say you can't look my face, or talk unless I ask you question. . . Did I ask you question?" She was very angry. Peter did not dare to speak. "Did I ask you question?" she said with more insistence. 

"No Cindy."

"You are not man. You are slave. I want man. I tell you hundred times: never. Why you can't understand?"

Peter looked down at her magnificent thighs. He guessed this was only a hypothetical question, so he resisted speaking. Tears were rolling down his cheeks, and his cock was stretching the fabric of his white shorts forward toward her. She said nothing for several moments.

"You don't need stay here anymore," she said more gently. "Our company need you. Brad is just a silly boy. He can't do anything well. You need come back." She uncrossed her legs, and slid forward in the armchair. "Do you want come back?"

"Yes, Cindy."

"If you come back, can you follow rules you follow here if you are alone with me?"

"Yes, Cindy."

"Come here," Cindy ordered. Peter stepped toward her. She reached up and pulled his neck down toward herself by his pink collar. He could smell her, her face was so close to his. He avoided looking at her face, by instead staring down at her cleavage revealed by a low top. She was becoming frustrated tugging at something on his collar. He was in a daze; he did not know what she was doing. A damp spot was forming in his white shorts at the tip of his cock. He wanted her so much. He weighed the consequences of just falling on her now and ravaging her. Oh, to feel that full body under himself! 

Suddenly she let go of his collar, and he straightened up, but kept his eyes on her beautiful round breasts. She held up before him the photo of Brian that had been attached to his collar. He had almost forgotten that it was there.

"You don't need this now," she said, and tossed it into a bin beside her chair.

He stood humbly in front of her, and moved his eyes down to her feet, to show more respect. He wanted to say thank you, but he knew it was forbidden. He wondered if she was looking at his face, or at the damp spot in his shorts at the tip of his stiff, leaking cock.

"Ms Zhang say you need one of these to stay here. She give me this." Cindy held up a small photo of herself, framed and connected to a clip in the same style as the photo of Brian. With two fingers she gestured for him to lower himself so that she could connect this to his collar. He felt his fingers touch his flesh and his sighed with delight. She neatly connected it to his collar, and then pushed his shoulder so that he was again standing up straight.

"Doesn't mean," she said, "I let you be my slave. I still think about this. But when you come back to company you need to follow rules you follow here. Understand?"

"Yes, Cindy." 

"I talk to Ms Zhang. See when convenient for you come back. Our business what's important. Loving just for fun." She stood up, walked past him, so closely that they almost touched, and left the room. 

That evening, after dinner, Peter and another one of the slaves were taken to the makeup room. The two young Chinese ladies dressed them in frilly sissy outfits, and did their makeup. They were then led up to the second floor, and taken into a small, well furnished room which Peter had never entered before. The lights in the room were dim. There were two people seated in either sofa facing the center of the room. Without looking up to see their faces, Peter could tell from their calves and their feet that it was Cindy and Ms Zhang. They were dressed in bathrobes, and wore plush slippers. Cindy dangled one of her slippers from her toes.

Peter and the other sissy stood meekly by the door, which the guards had closed behind them. "Come to the center of the room, girls," Ms Zhang said soothingly. Peter and the other sissy went to the center of the room, and stood meekly between Ms Zhang and Cindy. The room was small, so that they were about a meter from Cindy and Ms Zhang's feet on either side.

"Now girls, kiss for us, tenderly, make us feel that you are in love," Ms Zhang said softly.

Peter turned to the other sissy, and they pressed their red lips together softly, and their tongues intertwined. There was the moist sound of their kissing in the silent room. Peter had never kissed anyone like this before, but he was doing this now for Cindy, to express to her the extent of his submission. They continued kissing, and Cindy and Ms Zhang watched in silence. Peter couldn't imagine what Cindy was thinking, but his cock hard and leaking beneath the light, frilly panties.

"Oh ladies, that's beautiful," whispered Ms Zhang. "More passion now."

Peter and the other sissy began to press their lips together now more forcefully, and press their tongues more deeply into one another's mouths. They began to press their hard cocks together, dry humping with rising urgency.

"Aiyo," Cindy commented quietly, and giggled.

A few moments later, Ms Zhang whispered, "Now slip of one another's panties." The two sissies urgently, but delicately, pulled down one another's panties, and the silky panties drifted down to their ankles. Their cocks sprang up, holding out the short skirts to reveal the shafts and the balls beneath them. Peter so wanted to look at Cindy.

"Stroke each other, but don't cum. If you think your partner is going to cum, slow down."

Peter was so horny. He glanced at Cindy's feet and calves, but had to look away for fear that he would shoot immediately. She still dangled her slipper from her toes. The other sissy worked Peter's cock expertly, so that he was grinding his hips and whimpering with an excess of arousal. Both sissies were suffering. From the pace of his panting, Peter felt that the other sissy too was close to cumming, so he slowed down the pace of his stoking. Their hands and their cocks were wet and glistening from leaking pre cum, and when Ms Zhang was not speaking, the sticky sound of their hands stroking one another's cocks was audible as well as the moist sound of their kissing. 

"Cindy, what do you think?" Ms Zhang asked.

"I think it's funny. And silly. Not sexy to me."

"It is an acquired taste."

"Maybe. I don't know."

"Do you think that Brian has achieved the result he was after? Do you think that we have turned Brian into a gay?"

Cindy humphed, and laughed. "Yes. Look like it. Not my business."

Peter's heart sank, but he kept kissing, and stroking, and being stroked by the other sissy. If this is what it took to make Cindy comfortable with him, he would be a gay.

"My dear Cindy, you're wrong," Ms Zhang said gently, yet emphatically, and then, very softly to the sissies, "lie down now girls, and continue, Peter, you are on the bottom."

The sissies sank to the hardwood floor, and continued kissing and stroking one another. From around the other sissy's ear, Peter could see Cindy's foot, less than a meter from him, dangling the slipper on her toes. He began to pant and whimper with impending orgasm, and the other sissy ceased jerking him off, and simply ran his fingertips over Peter's cock and balls, maintaining but not increasing his desperate pitch of arousal."

"Peter has done this many times now," Ms Zhang said.

Cindy exhaled through her nostrils, and gave a short laugh that expressed 'I should have known.'

"This is the only time that Peter has ever been hard when he has done this though. Why do you think that is?

"Is because I'm here?" Cindy only half asked.

"Of course. Peter is not gay. Peter doesn't desire men, or women. You are the only thing that makes him aroused."

Cindy said nothing. 

"Peter is a very special slave. Actually, I think he is not even a slave. I have dealt with slaves for all of my adult life, and I have never seen anyone with his particular problem. He isn't a pervert, not really. It's just that his heart, his body and his soul belong to you. When he realized you would not love him, he did what he could to be near you, and to show you that his devotion to you was complete."

"I am not special. I am normal girl."

"Peter did not choose to feel this way about you. Think how much his love for you has made him suffer. There are so many beautiful women in China. Why is it that he loves only you?"

"Don't know."

"You are special Cindy, and Peter has seen this. It is your destiny. You are destined to have Peter as your slave."

"I have no interest in slave. No use. I want find husband."

"A slave is not a boyfriend, or a husband. You don't have to choose between a slave and a boyfriend. A slave is something that belongs to you. You pick it up and use it when you want it, and you put it away when you want to."

"Don't know."

"Peter has learned how to be a slave here. He knows that he should not look in your face. He knows that he should never speak unless you ask him to. You know that you are not being kind to Peter by not allowing him to be your slave. You know that don't you?"

"I know. . ." Cindy said more softly.

"Peter was put on earth to be your slave. I tell you now, that if you don't accept him as your slave, he will shrivel up and die."

Cindy said nothing.

"Girls, you can wash our feet now. Go and prepare two tubs."

"Aiyo, don't want my feet washed."

"Girls, go," Ms Zhang said with insistence.

Peter followed the other sissy down the hall and into the other room. Peter had no idea of what to do so, although he dared not speak to the other sissy, he copied what this sissy did. They filled two wooden tubs with hot water, and emptied into each of these tubs a sachet of salts, herbs and dried flowers. Then, they each carried a tub, a pumice stone and a towel back to the room in which Cindy and Ms Zhang waited.

As they entered the room struggling with the heavy tubs, Peter noticed that Cindy and Ms Zhang were watching a film on the TV mounted to the wall. The other sissy placed his wooden tub in front of Ms Zhang, and knelt down beside her, sitting on his ankles. Following the other sissy's lead, Peter placed his wooden tub in front of Cindy, and knelt beside the tub. Cindy slipped her feet from her slippers, and placed her feet on the tub, with her toes curling over the edge. She gingerly dipped one foot into the water, and then withdrew it, stating crossly "Tai rue!" – too hot. Peter felt ashamed.

"Take your time, you'll get used to it," Ms Zhang said. "It's nicer when it's warm."

Peter knelt by Cindy while she slowly slid her feet into the tub. Peter's heart was in his mouth, and his cock was stiff and leaking, pushing up the fabric of his skirt, and dampening it. Peter noticed that the ladies were watching soft porn for women on the TV. From the corner of his eyes he could make out muscular, orange male bodies. Cindy's feet and calves shone as white as the moon in the tub, with the water shimmering over them. Her calves were so full, and so soft: there were no ripples of muscles, just smooth and flawless curves. This was what he had always dreamed of; this was his greatest goal, to be kneeling here, tending Cindy. He knelt in bliss, as though at the side of God.

After perhaps ten minutes, Ms Zhang said softly, "Use the pumice stones now, girls." Peter followed the other sissy's lead. He knelt on his heels with his thighs straddling the tub. He reached into the tub and reverently took out one of Cindy's silver feet. He used the pumice stone to gently rub at the back of her heel and the ball of her foot. His raging cock was peeking up over the edge of the tub like a periscope. It had freed itself of the skirt altogether, and it was drooling avidly. He dared not look up at Cindy, and he did not know if she was watching the muscular orange bodies on the screen, or his own humble worship.

He completed the second foot, and he followed the other sissy's lead. He moved the tub away, and knelt on his heels in front of Cindy. He placed the towel on his lap, and moved her two feet to rest on this on either of his thighs. He took one foot and began to massage it tenderly. His cock was lunging and throbbing like a mad beast. He had no control of it, it had a life of its own, and it seemed that it would wrest itself free of him, and plunge itself into Cindy. Still, though he did not control his cock, his cock did not control him. He ignored the rampant urges of this alien flesh, and massaged the sacred flesh of Cindy's feet and calves. He knelt there in absolute devotion, like a priest at sacrament. His body was trembling all over with an excess of joy. He ran his two thumbs up the arch of her foot. He gently pulled at each toe. He ran two thumbs beneath her ankles, and above her heels. He let his hands slide from behind her knees, down over her calves to above her ankles, smoothly, again and again.

"Lie down, girls," Ms Zhang said. Peter followed the other sissy's lead, and lay on his back at a 90 degree angle to Cindy. He stared at the ceiling for several seconds. Cindy said "Aya," in resistance, but then she placed one of her feet on his belly, just above his stiff cock, and the toes of the other foot gently on his lips. He opened his mouth, and let his tongue snake tenderly between her toes. He tried to gather from her feet her essence, and also to show her the depth of his devotion to her. He was not over eager, but tender, and respectful. He knew that if he was over eager, she might simply withdraw her feet, and he would lose the opportunity to fulfill his destiny, to live the moment that he was made to live. 

She moved her foot, so that he could lick its ball, and the instep, and then the heel, and then she moved it back so that he was again licking beneath and between her toes. He could have licked her feet for a hundred thousand years.

He was as horny as a thirteen year old. The toes of her foot at his belly played in the copious pool of pre cum that had gathered on his belly above his cock, smearing the slick pool around his belly. Ms Zhang whispered "change feet," and Peter followed the lead of the other sissy, and turned around the other way, so that Cindy's other foot was at his belly, and the foot that had been playing with his cum on his belly was at his lips. As he licked the toes of Cindy's other foot, he could taste the sharp taste of his own pre cum, but then as he continued to suck and to lick this taste disappeared and he again tasted the rich earthy flavor of Cindy's feet. The toes of Cindy's other foot curled around the head of his cock for a few moments but then, sensing that he was about to cum, she withdrew then, and rested the foot on his belly, less than an inch about the head of his cock. When it throbbed especially hard, it nudged her foot.

Peter was softly lapping at Cindy's insole. "Comfortable?" asked Ms Zhang.

"Comfortable," Cindy replied. 

Peter's eyes were closed in bliss, but he opened them a crack to look up at Cindy. She was not looking down at him, but instead attending to the orange men on the TV screen.

"I thought you'd like it," Ms Zhang said. "Shall we go upstairs, Cindy? There are a few interesting men among the guests and owners visiting at the moment."

"Hao," – good -- Cindy said. Ms Zhang stood, and put on her slippers. Cindy stood too. Peter and the other sissy stayed lying where they were. Peter opened his eyes, and as Cindy stepped over him he could see her knees and luscious thighs up under her dressing gown. 

As Cindy and Ms Zhang approached the door, Ms Zhang said to the guards, "Punish Peter. Cindy's water was too hot."

"Mei shi," – it's nothing – Cindy said. "Bu xu yao," – don't need. 

"Cindy," Ms Zhang said firmly, "slaves want to be perfect. Peter wants to be punished if he serves you in a way that is less than perfect. Peter, do you think that you should be punished for bringing in water that was too hot for Cindy?"

Peter was slow to recognize that this was a direct question. "Yes, Ms Zhang," he croaked. He had spoken so few words in the past two months, and his words sounded strange. Cindy giggled.

"Why, Peter?"

"So that Cindy will know that I want to serve her perfectly."

"Cindy?" Ms Zhang asked.

"OK. Go ahead."

"Would you like to stay and watch?"

"Xing," – OK – Cindy said a bit reluctantly.

The guards came to Peter and stood him up. They bent him over with his hands on the arm chair in which Cindy had been sitting. One guard said "This slave is being punished for providing water that was too hot for Cindy." Cindy giggled. The other guard threw Peter's skirt up over his back, revealing his bare ass, and then began to strap his buttocks hard. Peter bit his lip to resist crying out, and bent his knees and wiggled his ass gracelessly as the blows rained down.

"Enough," Ms Zhang said, after about twenty blows.

Ms Zhang went to just behind Peter, and Cindy followed her. The guards moved away. Peter remained bent over with his hands on the armchair on which Cindy had sat, presenting his red and stinging ass to Cindy and Ms Zhang. 

"Of course this is not a man, Cindy," Ms Zhang said. "This is a slave, and it belongs to you. Peter can be a loyal friend, and he is always your slave, but he can never be a boyfriend or a husband. Be careful of that. To take Peter as your boyfriend would be a disaster."