****** Fantasy Web Site ******
                           Provided By: BDSM_Library
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Synopsis: An accountant discovers that his secretary is actually a sex slave
working at a kinky web site.
Fantasy Web Site
© 2009 by J8 Clip
Codes: M+/f, B/D, nudity, whipping, suspension, slavery
Dramatis Personae
James Faribault, accountant
Carol, secretary by day, slavegirl
Doug Sterling, owner, operator of a web site
Stephanie, slavegirl
Anne, slavegirl
Melody, slavegirl and webmistress
In which James Finds a Closed Door
Early afternoon, I looked out my office window. The city below was white from
the 20 centimeters
(about 8 inches) of snow which had already fallen. It was heavy, wet snow and
the heavens
were alive with lightning and thunder. Even though it was the peak of our
season, I decided
to send everyone home. I own a small accounting firm. A long holiday weekend
was coming up,
and no one was doing any work anyway. Everyone, including me, was looking out
windows
wondering how they were going to get home.
Because I am a creature of habit, I still lived in the apartment I once shared
with my ex-wife. It
is about 35 kilometers (a little over 20 miles) away, and I did not look
forward to the trip. I
walked out of my office and sat on the edge of my secretary’s desk. “It doesn’t
look like it is going
to stop anytime soon,” she said. I replied, “Tell everyone to go home, or to a
hotel, a homeless
shelter, whatever.”
She picked up the phone and dialed the number of the PA system. “The boss says
skedaddle;
school’s out for today.” She is a little girl, about 157 (5' 2”) centimeters,
with light brown hair
styled today in a bun on top of her head. She is modest and unassuming. Her
figure is also
modest, but perfectly proportioned. She has had some sort of relationship since
before I hired
her, so I kept a tight rein on my fantasies about her as a replacement for the
wife who walked out
on me.
She put down the phone and stood up, tugging briefly at her skirt. “Come home
with me. We
have a couch in the den which is big enough for a night’s sleep, and it is only
a couple hundred
meters away.”
“Thank you, Carol, but I’ll try to get to my place or a hotel.”
“Please, boss? My domestic lord and master is at home today cooking, and I
doubt if our guests
will be able to make it. He will be devastated if his cooking is not
appreciated.”
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“Won’t you appreciate it?”
“Of course, but my approval doesn’t feed his ego. Please?”
Since I really was not looking forward to fighting my way to a lonely and quite
messy apartment,
I accepted her gracious invitation. Little did I know what I was getting into.
In the cloakroom,
she stepped out of her office heels and into high heeled boots which reached
almost to her knees.
(Apparently, she kept several pairs of heeled shoes at the office; I don’t pay
much attention to the
comings and leavings of my employees.) She put on a long fur coat and noticed
me simply
watching her. “Well?”
In response, I put on rubber boots and a light weight top coat. I firmly
believe that spring will
not come unless one expects it to, so I had not expected this storm. We went
down to the ground
floor and started walking. It was difficult going, made particularly difficult
for her by her boots;
several times, she fell against me and I had to help her upright. It seemed
like hours, but when
we finally arrived at the door of her cooperative building, it had only taken a
half hour.
I could not believe the richness of her unit when she unlocked the door and
gestured me in. I am
not stingy in pay, but what I do pay her could not make any significant
contribution to even the
maintenance fee. She called out loudly, “My Lord?” After a moment, a deep voice
answered
“Yes, Carol?”
“He followed me home. Can I keep him?”
She took my coat and hung it in the closet. I took off my boots, and she put
them in the closet as
well. My pants were soaked and encrusted with snow; I could at least knock the
snow off. As I
was doing so, a tall, stocky man came into the entrance hall. He glanced at me,
and then asked
her “Do we know him?”
“He is my work lord and master.”
This creature was about four centimeters taller than me, but he had many more
kilograms on me;
and all of it seemed to be muscle. He held out his hand and said, “Then
welcome.” I took his
hand, and I think we were both startled to exchange “a certain friendly and
brotherly grip.” He
looked at me for a long moment, and then turned to my secretary and said,
“Carol, go about your
duties. We will be in the library.” Looking back to me, he said, “Come with
me.”
I followed him into a room which was a library. It is not quite two stories
tall, lined with overflowing
bookshelves. The desk, in the middle, was piled with books. Two chairs were
before
the fireplace, in which a merry fire was burning. When we were near his desk,
he turned to me
and said, “Give me the word.”
Of course, it isn’t that simple. If I had just given him the word, I probably
would have been back
out in the snow, trying to get back to my apartment. We went through a bit of
ritual (you will un-
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derstand that I will not record it here --- a lot of people know the word) and
we convinced each
other that we were Brothers. “So what is your name,” he asked.
“James Faribault.”
“Very well. My name is Doug Sterling. Carol has told me a lot about her daytime
lord Faribault,
and I am delighted beyond words to meet you. Brother Faribault, I have many
secrets, and you
are going to be extremely surprised and possibly delighted. Can I ask you to
consider your stay
here this weekend to be covered as secrets communicated as such?”
“Of course.”
“Then what would you like to drink?”
“Brandy?”
“Excellent choice!” He picked up the phone from the cluttered desk and said,
“Have Carol come
to the library. She is to wear her uniform.”
“Let us sit by the fire until Carol joins us.” The chairs were incredibly
comfortable. He asked,
“How much have you studied the Craft?”
“I don’t think I study it very much. So much of the 'research' is trivial and
uninteresting. The
older stuff is mere speculation. I try to ...” My voice choked off as Carol
entered the room carrying
a tray. Her “uniform” appeared to consist of high heeled shoes. White. Very
high heeled.
Pointy toes.
Doug smiled and said, “Go ahead, James: look at her. She is just a slave.” He
paused for a few
seconds. “She is not my wife, mother, sister or daughter; and, as a slave, she
has no chastity to
be violated. As one of my many avocations, I display my slaves to others
interested in bondage
and discipline. At least for this weekend, I’d like you to help me.”
“I don’t understand,” James said, still avoiding looking directly at his
secretary’s body.
Doug continued. “A couple of years ago, I got tired of business and cashed out.
I called it an
early retirement. I collected a few slavegirls to amuse me. Business apparently
wasn’t ready to
retire me. We opened a kinky sex network site. There are cameras all over the
house, except this
library, the entrance, and the guest suite off of the entrance. It is quite
successful. Carol, bring
us brandies.”
Carol went over to what appeared to be a wall of books. Part of it was fake; at
the press of a button,
the “books” dropped down into the floor, revealing a full bar. She brought a
snifter over to
me, knelt on one knee, and held it out to me. When I took it, she repeated the
performance for
Doug.
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“Carol, find your deeds and bring them over to James. I’d like you to glance
through these so
you are familiar with the girls. My primary activity for the next few hours is
dinner, so I will be
excusing myself.” Carol knelt before me, holding out four thick folders. I took
them. She and
Doug both stood and walked out of the library. On his way out, Doug said, “I’ll
answer your
questions later.”
I started with Carol’s folder, setting the others aside. Opening it, I found
that the first page was
sort of a “mug shot,” except that it showed all of Carol’s body, front, back,
and right profile.
Flipping quickly through the pages, I found that most were pictures and medical
reports. She
was in good health.
The sheet at the back of the folder, the oldest, was a certified copy of the
court order which had
condemned Carol to slavery. I was astounded to find that Carol’s crime was
embezzling 300,000
crowns, and she was working for my accounting firm. I wondered how she had
gotten her bond,
even for her job as a secretary. I decided that I would have to do more careful
background
checks, even if the bonding company was happy.
I quickly glanced through the other three "deeds". In the words of a wise man,
each was prettier
than the other. One had been condemned for drunk driving, one for chronic
shoplifting, and one
to pay off a loan she had guaranteed for her brother.
I had just finished looking at the deeds when Stephanie came in, dressed in the
house uniform. I
wondered if perhaps there was a camera in the room, so the slavegirls could
anticipate their master's
whims. After I set aside the last deed, I had also drained the brandy. However,
in this case,
Stephanie said, "Master wants me to take you to Carol. Would you come with me
please?"
As I stood up, she came over and took my hand. We walked out of the library and
into the main
part of this huge apartment. She said, "I am required to remind you that you
may be on camera at
any time and visible on the network." She opened a door which led into a long
hall. We stopped
a couple of doors down the hall. She gestured at the door. "I am not allowed to
enter this room,
but you are. You will find a pleasant surprise inside.” She opened the door for
me and I entered
the room. “I must go help Master with dinner." With this, she turned away from
me and walked
out of the hall.
In which James Finds Something Unexpected
I opened the door and saw nothing very surprising. There was a large sitting
room with
windows overlooking the city. There was a modern fireplace between the windows.
To my
right, there was a door which might have led to a bathroom. I heard Carol’s
voice say, “Well
come on in; I’m waiting for you.” It came from my left, the part of the room
which the door
blocked from my view.
I walked into the room, closing the door behind me, and turned to my left.
There was a
platform a couple of steps higher than the rest of the room. Off of the
platform, I could see a
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lady’s dressing table and an open door leading to a bathroom. There was also a
large bed, from
which Carol was looking at me, spread eagled to the bed. From the angle at
which I was looking
at her, her pussy was every bit as prominent as her smiling face.
“I’m your appetizer before dinner, my lord. Please enjoy me.”
I walked up the steps onto the platform and to the foot of the bed. I examined
her ankle,
encased in a leather cuff. A padlock attached a chain to the cuff; the chain in
turn was attached
to an eye bolt in the frame of the bed. A glance told me that her wrist was
attached in the same
way. “Where are the keys?” I asked.
“Safely away from you, my lord. One of the other girls will release me after
you have
used me.”
I thought about that for a moment. “I’m certain Doug would fetch me the keys if
I
asked.” She nodded. “I suppose he would, but he would be terribly disappointed.
For some
reason, he is going all out to please you.”
I sat down on the side of the bed and put my hand on her tummy. I already knew
that I
wanted to accept this gift, but I had a couple of problems. “Carol, do you
think that this is really
a good idea? If I have you once, I’ll want to have you more. I am your employer
and we have
what I think is a good relationship. I don’t think either one of us wants to
mess that up.”
“I don’t think it will, my lord. Having made this offer, my Master will not
deny me to
you ever. Anytime you want me, you can have me. You could mess up the work
relationship,
my lord, only if you made me serve you on your desk with the staff watching.
During our work
hours, I would expect to deal with you as I now do; and I would expect you to
keep your hands
off of me. I do not think it will become a problem, but, if it does, you can
always fire me.”
I decided not to think about why she was working for me. Obviously, her Master
did not
need the salary I paid her; and the bonding company was on the hook if she
managed to embezzle
anything. “Let me accept that for now, Carol. There is another little problem.”
“What is that?”
“The equipment isn’t working. The notion that I would not have a rampant
erection in
the presence of a nude, bound and willing girl is profoundly embarrassing.”
“Oh,” she said. “Is that all? I was worried that it was something difficult to
fix. First,
blindfold me; you will find a nice one in the bottom drawer of the night stand;
you won’t be
embarrassed by my nudity or yours then, my lord. Then go take a very hot shower
and steam
some of that brandy out of you; the ‘equipment’ will probably work then.”
I took her advice. As I was putting on her blindfold, I was surprised to feel
some stirrings
of lust in the “equipment.” Actually, I was very hungry for more brandy;
instead, I walked over
to the other side of the room, where there was, indeed, another bath. She was
quite right: after
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just few minutes into the shower, thinking about Carol helplessly available, I
became erect. I did
finish the shower in a leisurely manner. Doug supplied warmed towels.
Returning to her bed, I again sat down on the side. This time, I rested a hand
on her right
breast. “Carol, you were right. Now, what sort of foreplay is appropriate for
having sex with a
borrowed slavegirl?” She said, “Whatever you choose, my lord. I get wet just
being tied.” She
paused for a little bit. “Still, your hand feels nice.”
Taking that as a clue, I kissed and caressed her breasts. Under my lips, her
nipples
became hard. The slightest touch of my teeth caused her to moan and to try to
press herself into
me; of course, tied as she was, this did not make much difference. I got up on
the bed and
arranged myself on hands and knees around her. I leaned on my elbows, my hands
grasping her
shoulders. I put my lips on hers and waited for her to respond. She turned her
head to the side,
about the only motion available to her, and said, “Haven’t you ever learned how
to kiss?”
She moved her head back and somehow managed to suck my tongue into her mouth. I
swear I didn’t have anything to do with it. (I have since asked her to repeat
that, but she either
cannot or she refuses.) She bit down, just a little bit on my tongue. To
distract her, I entered her.
I can’t describe what happened next. It isn’t that I’m in the least bit
embarrassed, or that I
fear the censor; I just do not have the words. I was aware that I was thrusting
away at her with
strokes more vigorous than usual, but time and sensation stopped. I was vaguely
aware of some
noises she was making and only slightly more aware of her muscles clenching
about me. After
an unknown amount of time (but it could not have been very long at all), I
spurted into her
several times, and then collapsed on top of her. My heart was pounding fast and
hard, and I was
taking very deep breaths. My breathing was not as labored, though, as if I had
just stopped
running. It was a very pleasant way to breathe.
I still wasn’t thinking of anything in particular, except how good it felt to
breathe that
way and rest, when I heard a female voice somewhere in the distance. A loud
JAMES finally
drilled through my fog. “You are a heavy lug, my lord. Can you move so I can
breathe a little
better?” With an effort, I lifted myself on my arms. “Better?” I asked? “A
little. Have you been
eating oysters or what?”
“It must be you or you being so strictly tied. Sex has never been like that for
me, ever.”
“Thank you, my lord. I am positive you did not notice, but it was very nice for
me, too.”
I rolled off of her, my head resting on one of her arms and my legs awkwardly
resting
over one of her spread ones. “You had better get up and shower again, my lord.
Your tuxedo is
in the closet on the other half of the room by your bathroom. While you are
showering, one of
the other slaves will release me; I need to shower again and dress, too.”
“I thought you girls were never dressed.”
“We do dress for Master’s dinners.”
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Dressed for Dinner
When I emerged from the shower, Carol was no longer in the room. To my
astonishment,
the tuxedo fit me perfectly. I wandered out of the room, wondering where to go.
Within
moments, Anne appeared at my side. “We are in the smoking room, my lord.” As I
may have
said, Anne is very short, less than 140 cm. She was wearing a white skirted
suit, white high
heeled shoes which added 8 cm to her height, and a green blouse which matched
the color of her
eyes. The skirt was very short, and the suit had to have built to her exact
proportions. I followed
her, watching with pleasure.
I found that Carol had preceded me to the smoking room. She was wearing a royal
blue,
strapless, floor length gown. While I could not see them, she must have been
wearing heels. The
gown was tight, so she could not run over to me as I entered, but she tried.
She stood close to me
and said, “Master suggests only Champagne before dinner. May I bring you a
glass?”
"Indeed you may." Even though it was the "smoking room" and even though the air
was
redolent of fine cigars, no one was smoking.
Doug had prepared a spinach salad with bacon flavored dressing, which was a
delicious
start. The main course was tournedos Rossini, complete with foie gras and
truffles. It was
cooked perfectly and superb. He also served each of us a baked potato and
asparagus. I don't
usually like asparagus, but he served it with a sauce that made it palatable.
There was no desert. Carol was asked to bring cigars and brandy to her master
and
myself; both were superb. When we were about half through the cigars, Doug
informed me that
Carol was to be whipped on screen tonight, if enough subscribers paid to see.
"While they are
slaves, they have personal accounts to purchase their freedom. Carol is asking
our subscribers
for one hundred crowns a stroke, with a minimum of fifty. Melody, how is she
doing?"
Melody, wearing a green mini-dress, stood up and went over to a terminal. After
a couple
of keystrokes, she said, "She has 35 signed up for the show."
Doug said, "Girls, it is time to put the clothes away and start to work.
Stephanie and
Anne, clean up the dining room and the kitchen. Melody, go back to your
computer. Carol, we
will be waiting for you in the dungeon.
The Dungeon
As Doug and I entered the dungeon, he pointed out the channel through which
Carol, or
any of the other girls, would be required to enter. She would have to open a
door into a channel
about two feet high and crawl into it. She would have to allow the door to
close behind her,
entrapping her until the door before her was opened. The top of the tunnel was
of glass; Doug
informed me that this allowed him to inspect the girls for proper nudity.
Shortly after we entered the dungeon, Carol knocked on the door. He checked her
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through the glass, and shortly opened the tiny door on the dungeon side. He
called out to the
ceiling, "How is Carol's bidding doing?" A voice from the ceiling reported that
she had 42
subscribers for her whipping.
"There isn't much time left," Carol said. "Would you guys get me ready? That
might get
more subscribers." Doug nodded his assent, but I interrupted. "Why is Carol so
eager for a
whipping?" I asked.
Doug talked to me as he prepared Carol. "All of the girls have crown accounts
where
they can save to purchase their freedom. Carol will earn 5,000 crowns for her
whipping, less my
10% fee. I have set lower prices for the girls to purchase themselves than for
an someone else.
The prices for outsiders are, for all practical purposes, prohibitive. The
accounts are in their
folders, if you want to check. Of course, they can spend the money any way they
wish, but I
provide an allowance for outside clothing, food, and miscellaneous expenses."
(That explained
why Carol was always so well dressed at work.)
By this time, Doug had put padded cuffs on Carol's wrists and attached them to
a trapeze
bar suspended from the ceiling. He walked over to a wall, saying, "This is a
surprisingly
lucrative business, especially for the girls. Two slaves purchased their
freedom from me over the
last year." He pushed a button, and lifted Carol until her feet were about
three feet off of the
floor.
Carol commented, "What he won't tell you is that he gives the money back to the
girl as a
stake for her new life."
Doug said, "Carol, your viewers are going to get five free strokes for that, if
you get your
limit." He went over to her and tied her legs together at ankles and above and
below her knees.
"In order to keep the money rolling in, after the minimum is reached, viewers
can buy more
strokes."
At that moment, a loudspeaker give off a "Ka-Ching" sound and the webmistress
announced, "We have 51 subscribers." Doug walked back over to the wall again
and lowered
Carol until her toes just touched the floor. Saying "Turn on the subscriber
feed," he took a
paddle from the wall and administered a hard blow to her bottom, driving the
paddle from the
floor to the underside of her bottom. After nine more strokes to her fanny, he
walked over to the
wall and hung the paddle up. He took down an instrument from the wall, a stick
with four broad
strips of soft leather attached. Unexpectedly, he tossed it to me. "Please give
her ten on her
back; this will sting, but it won't damage her."
Never having whipped anyone before, I was a little uncertain what to do. The
flogger
was about as long as a baseball bat, and I didn't want to disappoint either
Doug or Carol. So I
took a swing as if I were trying to bat a ball over the fence. That was too
hard: Carol had taken
Doug's strokes with only slight gasps; she screamed at mine. Doug encouraged
me: "Wonderful
stroke, James; that's what the audience likes to see and hear."
I was shaken by the scream, so the next stroke was more like a bunt. Carol took
a deep
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breath and said in a quiet voice, "Webmistress, we won't count that one." I was
astounded by her
honesty; she really wanted to please the customers. "Don't hold back, James; it
just prolongs the
session."
She screamed twice during the next nine, but she allowed all to be counted.
I handed the flogger back to Doug. He put it away, came back with the paddle
and
administered ten more to her fanny. He then got a whip which ended in a very
thin strip of
leather. This he slapped, hard, against the soles of her feet. She attempted to
curl her feet out of
the way, but his aim always accurately followed. Every one of these strokes
elicited a scream
from her: he waited long enough between strokes for her to recover enough to
scream again. It
was clear that both he and Carol were very practiced a this.
He handed the thin little whip to me, and said, "Five on each breast, please."
She winced
at each stroke, but she neither screamed at them nor declined them.
The scoreboard on the wall now stood at1 50. Doug flipped a switch, and told
me, “We
are now without sound. "Webmistress, how many additional strokes have been
purchased, and
any special requests?"
The voice from the ceiling said, "Five more, plus your free five, and one
special request."
"What is the special request?"
"Some pervert wants to buy strokes to her face; I could understand our
genitals, but I
think this is really sick."
"Webmistress, your customers are not perverts." She replied, "Yes, Master, I'm
sorry,
Master." Doug continued, "But that is truly sick, so decline the offer on my
behalf. Be nice."
Carol piped up. "How much did he offer?"
Doug said, "It doesn't matter; I decline."
"How much, Webmistress?"
"A thousand crowns, Carol."
"For how many?"
"Ten."
"Webmistress, our Master has said 'Be nice.' I wish he hadn't."
1 10 by Doug on her fanny, 10 by me on her back, 10 more by Doug on her fanny,
10 by Doug on her feet, and 10
by me on her breasts.
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Doug cut in. "Webmistress, you don't need to be nice." After a moment, he said,
"You
have ten more coming. You do not have to, but would you like to reward your
subscribers with
them on your genitals?"
"Webmistress," Carol asked, "did that go out on the audio feed?"
"No, Carol."
"Then, Master, just on my bottom, please."
Doug flipped the switch to enable the sound feed again. He applied five to her
fanny with
the paddle and gave me the soft flogger for the last five. I made each of them
as hard as I could,
but the angle wasn't as good as for her back. She only screamed once.
"Cut the real-time feed, Webmistress," Doug said. He lowered Carol and released
her
from her bondage. She came over to me and threw her arms around my neck and
made her lips
available for my kiss. When we came up for air, she said, "Thank you, James."
She then went
over to Doug, behaved in like manner, and said, "Thank you, Master."
James' Evening Continues
Anne knocked at the entrance to the dungeon. Doug said to me, “Anne and
Stephanie will entertain
our subscribers until midnight, when we start showing repeats. The subscribers
who were
too cheap to buy Carol's strokes will be able to see the show if they stay up
until about 3:00.
Please pick up Carol outside the dungeon and let her entertain you. Remember
that you will be
on camera except in the library, the entrance hall, and the guest suite. I hope
you will use Carol's
suite, and Carol this evening.”
He walked over to the tunnel and opened it to take Anne out and put Carol in. I
left the dungeon
and opened the tunnel door for Carol. “I will wait for you in the smoking room.
Go get your
file, a pair of handcuffs, and leg irons.” In a few minutes, she returned with
her file and the restraints.
I took the file from her.
“Put on the restraints, hands behind your back,” I said. When she had complied,
I continued,
“Stand with your feet as far apart as the leg irons allow. Be silent until I
ask you a direct question.”
I opened the file to her account sheet. She had a healthy balance built up
already, and the 5,000
crowns from tonight would put her over the top. Of course, she would still be a
slavegirl, but a
slave who owns herself is almost completely free; she can't vote, or work for
the government, but
otherwise she can do whatever she wants.
“You can buy yourself. What are you going to do?” I asked.
She replied, “I will continue to be Master's slave, and continue to work for
you. I like being his
slave, and I like working for you. I even like the whippings and other things
done to me. The
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only difference will be starting to tithe at church. Well, he will start an
investment account for
me; as a slavegirl, I can't formally own anything.”
I was silent for a minute or so, when she started to talk again. “I hesitate to
mention this, but
Melody could also purchase herself, but has chosen not to. She could get a very
high salary in
the computer business, but she also prefers to be a slavegirl. And I hate to
mention this, but our
lord and master would expect you to make use of all of us slaves, however and
whenever you
wish.”
Now I was silent for a long time. “I must punish you for speaking not in answer
to a direct question.
When do you suppose Melody would be available?”
“Anytime after the site goes on repeats, sir.”
“Where do you keep nipple clamps?”
“There are some in the third drawer from the bottom of the storage cabinet in
front of you.”
I caressed her nipples to hardness, and put the clamps on. She did not wince at
all. Each clamp
had a bell dangling from it. “I am going to put your file back. Wait
patiently.”
After about 15 minutes, I returned, carrying some brandy, and a glass of ice
water for Carol. I
put the glass to her lips, and said, “Drink.” She finished about half of the
glass and looked at me
with gratitude. “Do you feel your punishment has been sufficient?
“Sir, punishments should always be doled out as soon after the infraction as
possible, so you did
well. However, it is a very light punishment. At the very least, make me walk
around to ring the
bells and add a little bit more pain.”
“Very well, do so.” I did enjoy watching her and hearing the bells. When the
clock chimed midnight,
I said, “Contact Melody, and ask if she can come to your suite.” She kept
moving her
torso as she did. When she finished the contact, she did not say anything.
The Next Day Again Startles James
When I woke up, I found Carol was already awake. She was laying on her side,
hands bound behind
her, ankles bound together, and her neck tethered to the foot of the bed. “My
Lord, there is
a message waiting on the telephone. Dial *41 to listen to it,” Carol said.
Doing so, I heard Doug saying, “I would like to have Carol today. Please have
her shower,
shave, and do her hair. Tell her to report, in uniform, to the library, but
after she delivers
Stephanie to you.” I related this information to her.
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She stood, came close to me, and hugged me. “You should shower and dress. There
are clothes
for you in the closet. I'll be ready in about 15 minutes.” So I started the
(late) morning walking
beside the naked Carol wearing a pin stripe business suit. Carol led me to
Stephanie's suite. She
took a key from beside the door and unlocked it. Stephanie was sitting on her
bed, naked. Carol
directed her to stand and tied her wrists behind her back. She added a delicate
collar and a leash.
Leading Stephanie to me, she handed me the leash. “Our master has given
Stephanie some ideas
about how she can serve you today.”
Carol walked quickly away from us.
Stephanie, tastefully attired in the red rope binding her wrists and the red
scrunchy holding her
hair in a pony tail, took off down the hall like a bitch eager for a long
awaited walk. She took off
so quickly that she jerked her leash out of my hand. I caught up with her and
grabbed the leash.
“With your permission, we will go to the kitchen for breakfast, if you do not
untie my hands I
will beg prettily for my breakfast; then we will go to the sauna for a while
and afterward make
love in the snow. Master doesn't like us to say 'make love', he wants to
depersonalize sex and
have us say 'serve you' instead.” She paused to take a breath, but not at all
long. “Even before I
was enslaved I liked a friendly fuck and it is love even if for just a little
while, then you will strap
me into the hot tub and arrange the little jet for my pleasure or frustration
and then Sam will
bring us lunch and-uh I will beg you to feed me and then we will go to the
dungeon to see what
you can do to me.”
“Sam? Who is Sam?”
She turned a corner and I found myself in the kitchen. It was filled with a
very short man, also
very wide – almost spherical — dressed in a cook's uniform. Stephanie said,
“Sam, meet Lord
Faribault; my Lord, this is Sam. Sam is Master's cook, butler, factotum,
whatever, he cooks almost
as well as Master and he prepares wonderful food in bite sized bits for your
convenience in
feeding us girls, please my Lord will you give me a sip of mimosa?”
“Stephanie, do you ever shut up? Your mouth rattles on so fast that I can
hardly keep up. Good
to meet you, Sam.” Stephanie knelt beside a chair near the kitchen table and
looked up at me,
her face holding the loving and hopeful expression of an Golden Retriever I
used to know. Sam
handed me a glass; obviously he was accustomed to dealing with nude and bound
slavegirls.
I let Stephanie sip from the mimosa and then fed her a bit of heavily buttered
rye toast topped
with bacon and scrambled egg. I knew it tasted very good, since I sampled one
before I gave her
one.
We followed her plan, with only a minor modification. She chattered
continuously, except while
we were actually making love. Even then, she made observations, gasps, and
moans, unless I
was kissing her. I learned that Doug varied their assignments, which were made
by him or by a
computer. She told me that he wanted them to be uncertain of what would be
required of them
after the current task. She told me that she hated scrubbing floors or tiles
naked, and she
wondered why anyone would pay to watch a girl doing so.
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After about a half hour in the hot tub, I got an erection again. I was somewhat
surprised and very
pleased. I turned off the jet that was aimed at her pussy; she glared at me.
“You will have to cooperate,
my dear. I want you to perform an underwater blow job.” She very obediently put
her
head under water.
When she came up for breath, she said, “I can see your wonderful organ, but I
can't reach it. Do
you want to untie me or move a little bit?”
I moved a little bit. She put her head underwater and took me in her mouth. Her
tongue was
very active. The sensation when she exhaled is indescribable. She came up to
breathe, and, after
a few long breaths, she again put her head under water. I was very much
enjoying her mouth.
Once, I put my hand on her head. Not hard enough to prevent her for rising for
air. Her mouth
and tongue became frantic, and I took my hand away.
Three or four emergings for breath, her mouth was around me. She focused on a
very sensitive
part of my anatomy and caused me to cum in her mouth. Even underwater, she
sucked
everything I had, and then her head emerged and she reached for my lips. I
kissed her when she
offered her lips.
I suppose Sam was watching. Our lunch arrived shortly after Stephanie completed
her work. I
took pleasure in feeding her [details later] and myself. I had become
accustomed, even in this
short time, to Sam showing up at almost any time.
A few minutes after we finished our lunch, Doug appeared. I resolved to stop
being surprised at
timely intrusions, since the whole place was wired. “I'd like to take Stephanie
away from you for
a few hours, if that is OK with you.”
Since both of us looked like prunes after all of the time in the hot tub, I
agreed. Doug said,
“Anne will keep you company, but I want you and Stephanie to be at the dungeon
at about 6:00;
you will find it fun.”
With that he walked out. I released Stephanie from the straps attached to the
hot tub, but I did
not untie her wrists. Anne came in with clothing for me, and Stephanie,
dripping, went off to
whatever Doug had in mind for her.
[If positive response, this will be continued.]
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