The
Premium Prize 01A
By Chris Warner
This story is written by Chris Warner, and all copyright and other
rights of authorship are retained. It is for ADULTS ONLY and contains sexual
material. If you are under 18 years old and/or are offended by sexual material,
please stop viewing this page NOW. Readers are permitted to keep a copy for
their own personal reference, but this story must not be reposted or in any
other way distributed, in any form, without the express permission of the
author via the e-mail address given.
*****
The Premium Prize
�
Chapter 01A
When my husband Mike left
his office job and went into the real estate industry, I knew there would be
highs and lows. More precisely, I knew there would be plenty of lows, and I
just hoped there would be enough highs to make it all worthwhile. I understood
the real estate game enough to know how important the leased BMW and the
expensive suits were, but I also knew that we would barely get by on my salary
if he didn't start earning some commissions. Still, Mike was convinced that he
would be a success, and I couldn't argue that he hadn't earned the opportunity
to try.
�
Mike and I have been
together since high school. He left school a year before me and moved to
Auckland, getting himself a job with a small printing firm. I moved in with him
the following year when I started at Auckland University, and he made no
complaint as that low paying job supported me through six years of study. The
firm that Mike worked for did a lot of printing for several real estate
companies, and he spent a lot of time talking with many of the agents. Mike
waited patiently until I had finished my Masters and received my first pay rise
in my new job before he told me of his desire to try selling houses. �
�
The firm that Mike
applied to was Macleod Realty, a new player in the booming Auckland market.
Mike was impressed by the things he had heard from the Macleod agents he had
spoken with. The company was still actively managed by its founder and majority
owner Hamish Macleod, and Mike was impressed by the company culture which apparently
included various social events and mysterious bonuses. The company tagline was
"Everybody Wins with Macleod Realty", but I had no idea that we might
win another person.
�
After a few months of
toiling away for minimal financial reward, mostly just payments from other
agents for helping out with open homes and other tasks, Mike finally got his
first lucky break. He immediately recognised Rob Hennessey, a wealthy property
developer, as soon as he walked into the small branch office.� Hennessey approached Mike directly and asked
to be shown the Mansfield Estate, a property on the market for over $6million.
Mike offered to contact the agent for that property but Hennessey declined. He
was well known for avoiding the agents who were chosen by the vendor, choosing
instead to bargain using intermediary agents. The outcome of this piece of luck
was that Mike earned a share of the huge commission and an invitation to a very
prestigious party - the Macleod Top Dog party for the fifty highest earning
agents for the preceding two months.
�
According to others in
Mike's office, the Top Dog parties were legendary, although the details were
somewhat lacking. It seemed that others who had gone in the past had been sworn
to secrecy regarding some of what went on. Apart from that, the only other
unusual thing that might have aroused my suspicions was the RSVP card that Mike
had to complete. In addition to ticking boxes stating whether or not he was
attending and whether or not he was bringing a date, he also had to state
whether his date was "a spouse/partner/significant other" or "a
casual date".� Naturally, since we
had now been married for two years, Mike ticked the first option.
�
On the night of the party
I was nervously looking around at the other women as we climbed out of the
taxi. The invitation was to a formal Friday evening party at Mr Macleod's
mansion. Mike hired a tuxedo while I dug out the gown I had worn to my
graduation ball, hoping it wouldn't look too cheap among the wealthy agents and
their partners. I knew that many of the agents at these parties attended
regularly and were not short of money. Even to my inexperienced eye I could
tell that some of the gowns, shoes and jewellery on display were worth many
thousands of dollars. �
�
We were met at the door
by Mr Macleod's PA Miss Cameron, a beautiful woman in her late 50s.� She asked our names and then looked us up on
her guest list. �Ah, here we are. Mr Michael Irons and Mrs Jessica Irons. A
warm welcome to you both, Mr and Mrs Irons.�
�
�Please, call me Mike.�
�
�Jess.�
�
�Thank you,� said Miss
Cameron. �Please call me Heather. Now, let me find your name tags.� She looked
first through a tray of black name tags until she found mine, then she looked
through a tray of red tags until she found Mike's. His name tag had the number
20 prominently displayed above his name. �Congratulations Mike,� she said.
�You've come 20th out of the agents here tonight, so you are
guaranteed a premium prize if you decide to accept one. There is an excellent
chance you will have a choice of prize since a few of those ahead of you are
unlikely to take one.�
�
�Why? What are the
premium prizes?� I asked. I couldn't imagine what kind of prize would be
declined. �
�
�I'm sorry. I got ahead
of myself. All will be explained later. Please feel free to leave your coats in
the room on the left then go through to the party in the room on the right. I
will see you both later in the evening.�
�
As we walked in to the
party, the opulence of the mansion was apparent everywhere I looked. However,
the decor couldn't compete with the sight of the people filling the room, from
the most honoured guests through to the waitresses. Particularly the waitresses.
�
�
Circulating through the
crowd were twenty young women all wearing identical white dresses. The dresses
were floor-length and flowing with long sleeves, and from a distance the
waitresses looked sophisticated and angelic, an impression that was enhanced by
their frequent smiles and confident conversation. Up close, however, the
angelic tag wasn't as easily applied. When one of them approached us with a
tray of drinks it was obvious that the material of her dress was see through.
Her white panties were easy to see, and her braless breasts were only partially
obscured by the word MACLEOD embroidered in silver thread across her chest. �
�
"Welcome Michael and
Jessica," she said, reading our name tags. "Champagne? It's nice to
see some fresh young faces at this thing. You're definitely a young twenty,
Michael. My name is Brandy, just in case you want to remember it later in the
evening." With that Brandy wandered off to talk with some other newly
arrived guests, leaving Mike and I to exchange a surprised look. It was true
that Mike and I were amongst the youngest guests at 24-years-old, but Brandy
hadn't looked much older than a teenager. I could also see that Mike was
blushing. I could tell that he was embarrassed that the party had turned out to
be unexpectedly sordid.
�
It was the kind of party
where people circulated quickly. We met with a huge number of people, but
didn't talk with anyone for more than ten minutes. Hamish Macleod himself
introduced himself to us and chatted to me about my research job. We noticed
too that he greeted us as Mike and Jess rather than Michael and Jessica,
demonstrating a great attention to detail. He seemed so genuine that it was
difficult to believe that his name was all that was obscuring the forty naked
breasts of his waitresses, and I was already struggling to work out whether I
still held to my initial reaction that the party was sleazy.
�
The behaviour of the
waitresses was starting to intrigue me. It certainly seemed like they were an
important part of the party rather than just staff.� They introduced themselves to people and made
conversation with them. As they did this I started to notice that all their
names sounded like �stripper� names, such as Angel and Candy. Many of them
seemed to know guests from previous parties.�
They seemed articulate and intelligent, and they came across as
self-confident, although in some cases it seemed like bravado.� As I watched them talking to other guests I
noticed that many of them would blush if they saw the person looking down at
their body.� In some ways they seemed
genuine and likable, but I also detected an undercurrent that there was
something else going on. These girls didn't seem like regular waitresses who
had been asked to dress in revealing clothes, nor did they seem like strippers
or sex workers being asked to serve food and drinks. My hunch was that they
were university students.
�
Another thing that I
noticed was that the girls were mostly speaking with Mike, in some cases to the
point where they barely acknowledged my existence. What's more, they frequently
commented on the fact that he was new to them, and that he was young and
handsome. Normally I would have found this offensive, seeing young women
flaunting their tits and flirting with my husband while I stood beside him, but
bizarrely I was feeling something else. They all seemed strangely excited by
what they were doing, as if they were there on a dare. I found myself imagining
being in their position, waitressing to a roomful of strangers wearing only
panties under a see-thought dress. One or two of the larger breasted women were
wearing bras, but they were outnumbered by the number who were wearing thongs
instead of panties. I think thongs are sexy, and I know that Mike does too, but
I've always found them too uncomfortable. Watching these girls I started to
fantasize about various dare or lost bet scenarios that would put me in their
situation and I knew I was getting turned on.
�
I could see that Mike,
bless him, was still feeling awkward about what was happening and was making an
extra effort to be attentive. Whenever he noticed me being ignored he would
often put an arm around my waist and find ways of bringing me into the
conversation. At one point when we were alone he reassured me that I shouldn't
hesitate to let him know if I wanted to leave early.� However, I could also tell that he was
finding the evening exciting, and I found myself regretting that we had lost
some of the sexiness in our marriage, and that I rarely took the opportunity to
be the hot wife of his dreams. I had bought a thong back when I was a teenager
and I put it on a few times at bedtime when I knew it would be taken off
minutes later, but I had gone up a dress size since then and hadn't bothered to
replace it. I enjoyed sex, but I had never given myself permission to be sexy
or daring in public.
�
We had been at the party
for over an hour when one of the waitresses came up and introduced herself as
Sapphire.� I took an immediate liking to
Sapphire because, unlike all the others, she paid just as much attention to me
as she did to Mike. After ascertaining that we were at our first Macleod party,
she asked me how I was finding it. I gave a non-committal answer along the
lines that it was proving to be an interesting experience. �
�
"And we haven't even
reached the speeches yet," said Sapphire.
�
Sapphire went on to
compliment my dress, and I surprised myself by confessing to her how anxious I
had been about how inexpensive it was, and she made me smile as she shared her
opinions about how much money some of the women had wasted on looking only half
as good as me. She then made me giggle when she told me with a completely
straight face that she had been fortunate enough to borrow the dress she was
wearing. I was disappointed when she excused herself and moved away through the
crowd.
�
It wasn't long after we
met Sapphire that Mr Macleod stood up to speak.�
As part of his introductory remarks he asked us all to give a round of
applause to the waitresses, who he said were members of the University of
Auckland South Island Snowsports Club raising money for their regular ski trips
to Queenstown. He then went on to present a trophy to the top selling
agent.� While that person gave a thank
you speech Mike turned to me and asked "Didn't some of your university
friends belong to the snowsports club?"
�
"Yes they did, but I
don't think it was the same club. The snowsports club I know of owns a lodge on
Mount Ruapehu. I don't think they ever went to the South Island. I think this
is a different group."
�
After the winning agent
completed his speech Mr Macleod took to the stage again and presented plaques
to the rest of the top ten agents and certificates to the rest of the top
fifty. Then he finally spoke about the prizes.
�
"I am happy to
announce that every one of you wonderful agents will go home with a prize,
although only twenty of you will leave with one of the premium prizes. As
always, my PA Miss Cameron will meet with you one by one to match you up to the
best available prize.� Her assistant Miss
Grant [here he indicated a young woman dressed in normal office wear] will come
and get you when it is your turn to see Miss Cameron."
�
At the conclusion of the
speech I watched as Miss Grant approached the winning agent and took him and
his wife through a door at the rear. A few minutes later they reappeared and
Miss Grant found the agent who had come second, a woman this time, and took her
and her husband away to meet with Miss Cameron.�
This pattern repeated itself many times, although sometimes the agent
went alone without their date. Finally Miss Grant approached Mike and me.� �
�
"Good evening Mr
Irons," she said. She then consulted her clipboard again before greeting
me.� "Good evening Mrs Irons. It is
important that both of you come together to meet with Miss Cameron.� Mr Macleod is most insistent about this. He
believes that if staff are in a committed relationship then there must be
openness and honesty when it comes to discussing the prizes."� While this surprised me it didn't bother me
at all.� I was desperately keen to hear
all about the prizes. We followed Miss Grant through to a small office where
Heather Cameron was waiting for us.
�
"Hello again Mike
and Jess. Please sit down. Since you are the first of seven first time winners
tonight it is important that we take our time. I'm expecting this to take at
least twenty minutes. The first thing that we have to do is sign a
confidentiality agreement. Many of the prizes are available as the result of
donations, sponsorships and promotional deals that are of a sensitive
nature." When Heather used the word 'sensitive' I immediately assumed that
she meant 'commercially sensitive', but it seems that was only partly true.
�
The next thing that
Heather did was show us what she called "the default prize pack",
which consisted of an assortment of goods including a watch, some jewellery,
perfume, and various vouchers for luxury goods and services. She explained that
the default prize pack was the minimum prize that guests would leave with if
they didn't leave with a premium prize. Since I already knew that Mike
qualified for a premium prize I didn't understand why Heather was showing us
this other than to make me excited about how much better a premium prize must
be.
�
Finally, and I got a
sense that Heather was approaching an awkward topic, she said that she would
now talk to us about the premium prizes. �This next part isn't so easy to talk
about. I understand why Mr Macleod gets me to do this rather than doing it
himself. Although they are increasing in popularity, I have to say that the
premium prizes aren't to everyone's taste. To put this in perspective, of the
nineteen people ahead of you tonight, eight have declined, so you will have the
choice of nine options.� �
�
Heather took a deep
breath and continued. �It may help to tell you some of the history of South
Island version of the university ski club. It started naturally enough with
some of the original club complaining about the long drive to Mount Ruapehu and
the basic accommodation on offer there. They started talking about how it would
actually be quicker to fly to Queenstown where the slopes are world class, as
are the hotels. The only problem they could see was the cost, so they started
brainstorming some fundraising ideas.�
�
�One of the ideas they
went ahead with was a slave auction which they held in the student union
building. Thirty seven men and women were auctioned off for twenty four hours
of service. It was all intended to be innocent enough with the expectation they
would be doing cooking and cleaning and gardening and suchlike. However, they
decided it would be good for business to roleplay a bit during the auction, and
it turned out that four of the women got into the role playing so much that
they allowed their slavery to become quite sexual in nature. By all accounts
all four of the women enjoyed the experience so much that once their stories
had spread around the rest of the group it was less than a month before they
were having another auction. This time there were nine women and a large number
of men who put themselves up for auction in such a way that it was clearly
understood that the slavery could include a certain amount of sexual contact.
The auction itself included sexier clothing and flashes of underwear and
skin."
�
"Of the men, I'm
told that only six attracted bids, and of those six only two found themselves
in any kind of sexual situation, and neither of them got any sexual
satisfaction. However, the results for the women were much different. All nine
sold, although since their bidders were other students they still didn't make
much money. However, they found enough excitement for the idea to gather
momentum."
�
"As they planned
another auction, something happened which ended up working in their favour. The
Student Union found out what was going on and banned them from using their
building for the auction. One of them had the idea to come into the central
city office of Macleod Realty and ask about hiring the auction room there. They
were thinking about organising two auctions a month. Their request was passed all
the way up the chain until a group of them ended up meeting with Mr Macleod
himself. Hamish was intrigued and ended up having a long conversation with them
about their auctions and their entire business model.� He asked about what motivated them, and listened
when they talked about their initial desire to raise money for luxury ski trips
and how that was starting to take second place to the excitement of living out
sexual fantasies. He then asked about their concerns and listened when they
talked about safety concerns, low bids, and some resentment that some of them
had raised less money than others." �
�
"Hamish arranged
another meeting with them the following day, and at that meeting he put forward
a proposal that he thought would meet their needs, as well as his own, since he
is always looking out for creative ways to reward his staff. He proposed that
every second month, in place of one of their planned auctions, that up to
twenty of the group attend these parties. He offered a flat rate payment for their
services, both at the party and afterwards." As I listened I could see
that Heather was blushing. "While he couldn't do anything about the safety
concerns at their regular auctions, he could minimise these concerns where his
own employees were involved. He also explained that they could expect some
careful word-of-mouth promotion through his staff to potential bidders who had
a lot more money to spend. I understand that their regular auctions are now far
more successful. This has been going on for about two years now."
�
"Let me come right
to the point now," she said. "I have here the profiles of nine of
tonight's waitresses, including any limits they may have.� If you wish, you may pick one to join you in
your home until midday on Sunday.� It is
to be clearly understood by all parties that this entails sexual slavery to you
both up to the limits stated in the profile.�
This prize also includes a small bag of other prizes, some of which can
be used to enhance the experience. Naturally, you are free to decline the
premium prize and take one of the default prizes instead. Would you like to
look through the profiles?"
�
Mike and I sat in stunned
silence. I was in turmoil. My head was spinning, my stomach was churning, but I
also knew my panties were feeling wet. I was excited, but I had no idea how to
react. I had no idea what Mike was thinking, although I presumed that most men
would have been turned on by what was happening. However, his reaction was
exactly what any woman would want from a loving and devoted husband.� "Surely you can't be serious," he
said. "Surely that would only be of interest to single men."
�
Heather gave a wry
smile.� "That was my initial
reaction too. I have to admit however that Mr Macleod is not only open-minded
but he also has a better understanding of the human psyche than I do. I have
been proved wrong time and time again. Obviously plenty of couples have walked
out at this point, particularly when it's their first time at one of our
parties. Even then, I've found that some of these couples have accepted the
offer at their second or third party.� I
have also been surprised by the reactions of our female staff.� A fair proportion of them have given the prize
to their husbands, maybe as a compensation for the long hours or sometimes
because their husbands are wanting a sexual experience that they don't want to
provide themselves. And, of course, some of our female staff have taken a girl
home for themselves."
�
"Really? So are some
of the waitresses lesbian?" I asked.�
For some reason this question was more important to me that it should
have been.
�
"I don't know, and I
don't want to know," replied Heather.�
"That's another story in itself." She looked at her
watch.� "I guess we've got time. I
think that all the remaining premium prizes will be claimed by people who have
been here before."
�
"The first time we
did this there were an equal number of men and women offering themselves.� Of the ten men only six were taken, and the
feedback about them afterwards wasn't positive. There were negative comments
about their attitude, their performance, and one woman said she didn't feel
safe with her prize.� Other feedback we
received about the evening was from a lesbian woman and a gay man who felt excluded
by the whole process.� When Hamish heard
all this he addressed both problems with one solution. He insisted that at all
future parties that anyone from the club offering themselves as a prize must be
willing to serve both genders regardless of their sexual orientation. He felt
that this wasn't inconsistent with his definition of sexual slavery. The
outcome of this was that since then we have had no male volunteers. Obviously
this doesn't meet the needs of our gay employees, but they seem to understand
that we can't help it if men aren't volunteering. We haven't always had twenty
women volunteers each time, but we often do, and there has only been three
nights when there has been a woman left unallocated."
�
Again there was a lengthy
pause, and again Mike ended it with the appropriate reaction.� "I guess it's not my place to judge what
others do, but I don't think this is appropriate for Jess and me. The default
prize pack looks more than generous to me." Mike then looked at me to add
my own confirmation of what he had said, but I surprised myself with my
impulsivity.
�
"Do you mind if I
have a quick look at the profiles?" I asked.
�
Heather laid the nine
profiles out on the table. Half of each card was taken up with a headshot of
each girl with their name underneath followed by a few details of what their
limits were.� As I scanned the cards I
quickly found the profile that I had been subconsciously looking for � Sapphire
was one of the nine.� Mike gave me a
confused smile as I picked it up to read the details.� �
�
The limits were listed with
tick boxes and spaces for short written answers. The first of them read as
follows: �
��
� Giving oral: yes �
� Receiving oral: yes �
� Vaginal Intercourse: yes �
� Anal sex: yes �
� Toys: yes �
� Tie up: yes �
� Tie up time limit: 1 hour �
� Watersports giving: yes �
� Watersports receiving: yes �
� Watersports in mouth: no �
� Scat on body: no �
� Scat in mouth: no �
� Hair removal head: no �
� Hair removal body: not applicable �
��
The other categories
given were for spanking, where Sapphire had ticked the boxes for �hand only�
and �marks to last no longer than 1 hour�, and modifications, where Sapphire
had ticked the box for �none�. �
��
I turned to Mike.� "How about we take this one?"
�
"Really?" he
asked, his tone and expression failing to conceal his initial excitement before
he composed himself and became more serious.�
"How much have you had to drink?"
�
"I'm not drunk!
Look, I know that I'm being impulsive and that we should be discussing this
carefully at home for next time, but there may never be a next time and
Sapphire was the only one of them that I liked. Let's just be
spontaneous."
�
"Are you telling me
that I've got your permission to fuck some woman that we've just met
tonight?"
�
"Yes. No!! I don't
know. Let's just see what happens.� I'll
let you know what you're allowed to do once I figure it out myself."
�
Heather interjected at
this point. "Please remember that all the women are expecting a sexual
experience. They don't want to get all psyched up for nothing."
�
"But it doesn't have
to include sex, does it?"
�
"No, of course not.
I hear that one of the older guys gets them to put on shows for him. He never
even touches them."
�
"That's fine then.
At the very least I'll ask her to show us the little bits of her body that we
haven't already seen."
�
There was another pause
in the conversation. I could see that Mike was thinking that he should be
making more of an argument about this but he was struggling to find the words,
or indeed the motivation. I could see that it wouldn't take much to tip the
balance and I was right.� All it took was
for Mike to notice Heather glancing at her watch, so his answer seemed just as
much motivated by being too polite to waste any more of her time. "Ok, why
not?"
�
*******
�
We had plenty of time for
second thoughts after we left our meeting with Heather Cameron. It turned out
that, instead of taking Sapphire away with us, because we were first-timers she
would be delivered by Heather after the party had ended. We returned to circulating
at the party, but we were too on edge to enjoy ourselves.� I saw Miss Grant take another fifteen people
out to meet Miss Cameron before Mr Macleod announced to the room that all of
the premium prizes had been claimed. The waitresses were now serving coffee and
chocolate cake, and I suspected that none of them had been told who had chosen
them. �
�
At one point Sapphire
said hello as she passed us on her way back to the kitchen. "Are you still
finding the party an interesting experience?" she asked me.
�
"It's been full of
surprises," I replied.
�
"Tell me about
it," she said. "I've still got a big surprise ahead of me. Wish me
luck. I've been feeding these people all night but some of them still look very
hungry, if you know what I mean." Before I could think of anything
suitable to say she had moved off through the crowd.
�
A short time later Mr
Macleod stood up to thank us all for coming and he announced that those who
hadn't received a premium prize could collect their gift bag at the entrance as
they left. The remainder were invited to wait a few minutes to take possession
of their prizes. We didn't get the opportunity to watch this as Miss Grant
approached and reminded us that our prize would be delivered. There was nothing
left to do but follow the others outside. �
�
Mr Macleod had ensured
that plenty of taxis were waiting. Mike and I were too conscious of the taxi
driver to talk about our evening during the ride home, and once we got home I
had a sudden panic about the state of the house. I ordered Mike to tidy the
living areas and load the dishwasher while I dug out some clean towels and put
fresh sheets on the bed in the spare room. We hadn't said anything of
consequence to each other before Heather knocked on our door.
�
Heather led the way
inside carrying a small gift bag and another sheet of paper, and she was
followed by Sapphire who was still wearing just her white dress and thong and
carrying a small overnight bag. I saw her give a small smile of recognition
before composing her face in a serious expression like an actor getting into
character.
�
Heather wasted no time.
I'm sure she was looking forward to going home after such a long night. She
came straight to the point. "Sapphire, this is Mr and Mrs Irons. I will
let them determine what they would like you to call them. Mr Irons works in our
Howick office. Their details have already been given
to your designated contact person. Mr Irons, Sapphire will be collected from
your home by a friend at midday on Sunday. Here is your gift bag and here is a
copy of Sapphire's limits. If you violate these limits then Mr Macleod will
have a very pointed conversation with you about your career. Sapphire is now
your property. The only thing left for me to do is to reclaim an item of
property which belongs to Mr Macleod." Heather simply held out her hand.
Sapphire was obviously expecting this because she immediately pulled her dress
off over her head and draped it over Heather's waiting hand. Heather
immediately let herself out as Mike and I stood in stunned silence and stared
at Sapphire as she stood in our home wearing only a tiny white thong.
�
It took a few moments for
me to recover, and my first instinct was to fall into the role of a gracious
hostess.� "Please come through into
the lounge," I said.� Once we had
all moved into the lounge, we simply resumed our awkward silence in a different
room.� I could tell that Mike and I were
both making a concerted effort to avoid staring at Sapphire's breasts. I
eventually tried to break the ice. �Did she really not tell you who you were
staying with until you got here?�
�
Again Sapphire couldn't
suppress a quick smile. �No, but I had already worked out that you two were the
most likely. I knew it had to be someone attending their first party.�
�
�Of course,� I said. �
�
Sapphire again composed
herself. "Mistress, how may I please you this evening?"
�
"Please, call me
Jess."
�
"Please forgive me
Mistress, but may I have permission to venture an opinion?"
�
"Sure, go
ahead."
�
"Mistress, in my experience
this type of situation only really works if everyone sticks to certain roles
and behaviours. That includes me calling you Mistress or some other title of
respect, while you should feel free to call me anything you choose because you
are my Mistress. Maybe only call me by my name if I have done something to
please you. May I do something to please you?"
�
"I don't know,"
I said, feeling a bit flummoxed. "Please give me a minute."
�
"Yes Mistress."
She turned to face Mike. "How may I please you this evening Master?"
�
Having this near naked
woman calling my husband Master gave me a brief flash of panic and then I had a
sudden inspiration for how to stop the evening from spiralling out of control.
"Slave, you will address my husband as Mike unless I tell you
otherwise," I said in a severe tone. "I am your Mistress, but he is
not your Master. There is to be no interaction between the two of you unless I
am present and give my permission. Is that understood?"
�
"Yes Mistress. Sorry
Mistress." �
�
Although Sapphire was
trying to keep a contrite facial expression I could tell that she was pleased
with me for taking charge. However, I didn't know how to follow this through.
The best I could think of was to prompt Sapphire for ideas. "Tell me Slave,
do you have any particular skills that might help us to get better
acquainted?"
�
Sapphire considered this
for a moment. "Yes Mistress. I have been told that I give excellent
massages. I have some massage oil in my bag."
�
"Mmm. I like that
idea."
�
"For you, or
him?"
�
"For him I
think."
�
"Yes Mistress."
�
Mike was looking stunned
as I told him to go into our bedroom and get ready. Sapphire started digging
around in her bag while I grabbed some old towels from the hallway cupboard. We
broke character briefly as she asked if she could use our toilet and I offered
to warm up the oil in the kitchen. When this was done I found her in the
hallway. All the bedroom doors were closed so she was waiting for me to take
the lead.
�
I led Sapphire into our
bedroom. Mike had removed his shoes, suit jacket and tie but was otherwise
fully dressed in his shirt and trousers, sitting on the side of the bed. He
looked so nervous that I started giggling. �Come on, you're meant to be getting
ready for a massage. It won't do to get oil all over that rental tux.�
�
Sapphire stepped forward.
�May I be of assistance Mistress?� The look of panic on Mike's face just fed my
sense of naughtiness. I grinned and nodded. Sapphire stepped right up to Mike
and pulled him to his feet and then she started unbuttoning his shirt. As he
looked down at her hands I could tell he was taking the opportunity to stare at
her breasts. I could tell he was feeling guilty about it because when she
glanced up at his face he looked away. I saw her smile to herself. Once she had
undone all the buttons I noticed that she briefly pressed her breasts against
his chest as she leaned in to push the shirt off his shoulders and down off his
arms. �
�
Once Mike's shirt was off
Sapphire knelt down to remove his socks, and I was surprised how erotic I found
this simple act. Like the story of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples,
removing his socks seemed like such a submissive thing to do. �
�
As Sapphire reached for
Mike's belt she looked me in the eye and paused until I nodded my head. Soon he
was only wearing an old pair of black briefs. I was annoyed at him for not
bothering to put on better underpants for our night out, but when Sapphire
placed her hands on his hips and looked to me for permission to remove them my
instinct was to say no.� Mike was looking
embarrassed and I could see no sign of an erection, and I felt that it wouldn't
benefit anyone if he felt humiliated.
�
"Leave them on for
now," I ordered. "It doesn't matter if they get oil on them."
�
Sapphire asked Mike to
lie face down on a layer of old towels on our bed and proceeded to give him a
thorough massage starting with his shoulders and back before proceeding to his
feet and gradually working her way up his legs. I've got a friend who works at
a spa so I know that many reputable qualified masseuses massage people naked
including their buttocks, so it didn't surprise me when Sapphire started
pushing her hands up inside his briefs and over his bottom. I was sitting in
our old rocking chair on the opposite side of the bed from Sapphire so I had a
great view, and I was surprised that I wasn't feeling jealous except jealous
that it wasn't me getting the massage.�
My heart was telling me that this woman wasn't there to steal my husband
but to be our plaything, and I was getting so horny that it was hard to sit
still.� I decided I could allow things to
go up a level.
�
"You can take the
underpants off," I said.
�
"Yes Mistress. Mine
or his? Or both?" I hadn't considered that option.
�
"Just his I think.
I'd prefer it if there was still one clothing layer between you."
�
"Yes Mistress."
�
I noticed that Mike
raised his hips slightly to allow Sapphire to remove his briefs. This
encouraged Sapphire to apply a fresh layer of oil and focus her attention on
kneading his buttocks. Once she had spent several minutes doing this she
announced that it was time for Mike to roll over. "Do you think Mike would
like to be covered by a towel?" she asked.
�
I was pleased that
Sapphire had asked me that question instead of Mike. I felt so in control that
I decided to have some more fun with him.�
"I've got just the thing," I said as I jumped up and grabbed a
small flannel from our bathroom. Mike gave me a funny look as he grabbed it out
of my hand. He pushed it under his body and held it in place against his
genitals as he rolled over onto his back. As Sapphire gently but firmly moved
his hands away I could see that he still wasn't erect but it had certainly had
a plumped up look about it as it lay there covered by only the small face
cloth. Since Sapphire was now ignoring Mike's lower body and focussing her
attention on his shoulders he didn't look so self-conscious and he closed his
eyes. �
�
I was transfixed as
Mike's massage continued. His penis started to visibly stiffen when Sapphire
spent some time playing with his nipples, and when she started running her
hands over his stomach and over his naked hips his erection lifted so high that
she actually ran her hand underneath it through his pubic hair. His penis softened
when she moved down to massage his feet and lower legs and it shifted
underneath the flannel so that when it stiffened again as Sapphire started
running her hands up the inside of his thighs, the flannel hung off it in a
lopsided way. �
�
There was no denying that
the precariously balanced flannel was the next boundary. I could call a halt to
the massage and leave Mike unfulfilled, or I could send Sapphire away and
finish what she had started myself. Or, I could reaffirm my earlier resolution
to be daring and sexy. I got out of my chair and lay down beside Mike on the
bed. I kissed him on the forehead, taking care not to get oil on my good dress,
and I placed my hand on his erection and caressed it through the flannel. Then
I deliberately lifted the flannel away and threw it on the floor. I gave
Sapphire a nod as I placed my hand on Mike's chest and started toying with his
nipples. Sapphire reached for her bottle of massage oil.
�
While Mike kept his eyes
closed I watched with unfettered interest as Sapphire started rubbing his cock.
She was obviously talented and I made some mental notes of some of her moves.
Although she was concentrating on what she was doing she was also frequently
catching my eye.� To start with it was
probably to check that I was alright, but then it became a look of shared
excitement. It didn't take Mike long to cum. I spotted the signs of his orgasm
just before it hit and instinctively shifted away from the firing range. I saw
Sapphire give a satisfied smile. I reflected that it had been over eight years
since I had given a handjob to anyone other than Mike, so I know I would have
been insecure about it until I had succeeded.�
�
�
Sapphire grabbed the
discarded flannel off the floor and started cleaning Mike with it. I resisted a
fleeting impulse to order her to lick him clean. This impulse horrified me
because I generally do what I can to avoid tasting it myself. I reflected on
what Heather had said about women getting a sex slave for their husbands to do
the things that they didn't want to do yourselves, and I realised that this
might be a double-edged sword. Would Mike end up having a greater expectation
of me afterwards?
�
At some point Mike must
have opened his eyes expecting to share an awkward moment with Sapphire or
myself, but he discovered that Sapphire and I were staring at each other so
intensely that he was being ignored. I was feeling extremely confused. From the
evidence of what I had just witnessed I was confident that Sapphire wasn't a
lesbian. Of course, neither was I. I had no lesbian experiences in my past at
all. But I knew as I watched Sapphire's face that I was looking for evidence
that she wouldn't be opposed to giving me a massage like she had given Mike.
Instead, what I thought I saw in her eyes was that she seemed to be daring me
to ask her. Then came the confirmation. "Mistress, how may I please you
this evening?"
�
A shockingly large part
of my brain just wanted Sapphire to take charge of me. I wanted her to undress
me like she had undressed Mike, lay me down on the bed, and take away all my
sexual frustration.� However, I knew for
her sake as well as my own that I had to take charge. I responded by standing
up and unzipping my dress, and I was soon standing before her in just my bra
and panties. The lingerie set I was wearing was one of my favourites, and I
think they are sexy even though the probably cover the most skin of all my
underwear. They are made of black lace. The bra has an extra couple of inches
of lace below the strap around my chest and the panties have a wide lace
waistband to match. I like them because they make me feel feminine, and another
reason I wore them is that the shape of the panties do a good job of hiding the
fact that I hadn't trimmed my bush for a while.�
�
�
I was surprised with how
confidently I removed my bra. I know I've got great breasts, at least as perky
as Sapphire's breasts and possibly slightly larger. I had a moment's hesitation
with my panties, thinking that I should leave them on and give myself more time
to decide how far I would let this go, but then I decided to take them off
while I stood there even though I was feeling self-conscious about my unruly
pubic hair. If this was likely to be interpreted as an invitation for Sapphire
to touch me like a woman has never touched me before then so be it. I realised
this was a cunning way to make Sapphire responsible for how far this went. I
was throwing down the gauntlet. She could either accept the challenge or
chicken out, whereas if I chickened out all I would have to do is tell her to
stop.
�
Mike climbed off the bed
and I took his place on the layer of towels. He was about to sit down on the
rocking chair when I reminded him he needed a shower first to wash off the
massage oil. It was obvious that he didn't want to miss anything by leaving the
room so he pulled on his underpants and stood awkwardly next to the bed. �
My massage followed the
same pattern as Mike's. I lay on my front while she started at my neck and
shoulders. Her technique was as much therapeutic as sensual, and I realised
that I had been far tenser than I had realised. I started to just enjoy it as a
massage, knowing that it wouldn't be until after I rolled over that my massage
might differ from one given at a proper spa. What I hadn't anticipated was the
way that Sapphire would vary what she did to make mine different to Mike's.
After massage my feet and working her way up my legs until she was massaging my
buttocks as well, she also started firmly running her hands up the inside of my
thighs, gradually easing them an inch or two further apart. The next step was
sudden and purposeful. I felt her fingers caress my pussy, gently running along
the crack as she felt for the opening. Once that was located her fingers found
my clit seconds later. She rubbed my clit for just a few seconds, but those few
seconds were enough to tell me that this woman I had just met intended to
finger me to an orgasm as a consequence of her free decision to offer herself
as a sexual slave in order to raise the money she wanted to go skiing. If I had
a problem with that, it was now entirely up to me to stop her. �
�
In a way, Sapphire's
earlier than expected move made things easier for me because I instantly knew
that I wanted this. I knew I didn't care what Mike thought. After all, he had
just had his turn. I was astonished how little it mattered to me that she was a
woman. I rationalized that women gave massages to other women all the time.
Strangely enough, I felt safe with Sapphire. I don't think I could have allowed
a strange man to do this. �
�
After another minute on
my buttocks Sapphire suggested I roll over. She started to ask if I wanted a
towel to cover me but I had already rolled over before she could finish her
sentence. The only thing I wasn't prepared for was seeing both Sapphire and
Mike looking down on me so I shut them out by closing my eyes. �
�
Sapphire didn't bother
with the full all over massage routine. Her actions were now completely focused
on increasing my sexual excitement. Both of her hands were on my breasts, then
one of those hands started exploring to the south, caressing my stomach, hips
and thighs before resuming her touching of my pussy. Eventually that hand was
rubbing my clit while her other hand continued to tease my nipples and I had a
wonderful orgasm. �
�
As I lay back with my
eyes closed Sapphire never let up touching my body, allowing her hands to roam
over my breasts and my stomach and thighs. Her touch was lovely. Then I started
to notice her working her hand back to my pussy. �
�
I'd never given any
serious thought previously to whether or not I might be multi-orgasmic. Part of
me was suspicious that the whole concept was just an invention of Cosmopolitan
magazine. Mike had never shown any inclination to attempt to give me a second.
We had both been happy enough with one. But if Sapphire felt it was worthwhile
to try for more then I had no reason to prevent her.
�
The second orgasm came
very quickly, and it was followed by the same caresses that indicated that
Sapphire was intended to take me back for a third. This time she did something
different. I felt the fingers of one hand push inside my pussy and started
rubbing on the ceiling of my vagina while her other hand left my breasts and
went to town on my clitoris. My third orgasm was huge.
�
�Good girl,� cooed
Sapphire softly.
�
�Holy crap,� said Mike
loudly, disturbing my buzz. �
�
I opened my eyes. �What?�
�
�You squirted,� he said
excitedly. �
�
I sat up. While the
moisture on the towels could easily have been explained by the massage oil I
had no reason to doubt him. Sapphire�s smile showed that she was pleased with
herself. I lay back down. �Wow! That was something else!�
�
To be continued.
July 2017
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