by Alan Horn
Wage Slaves: Submissives
Wage Slaves: Submissives
Chapter 1 - Serendipity
Chapter 2 - Submissive
Chapter 3 - Candidate
Chapter 4 - Employees
Chapter 5 - Routines
Chapter 6 - Frau Gruener
Chapter 7 - Muriel
Chapter 8 - Angela
Chapter 9 - A Hike
Chapter 10 - Dinner Party
Chapter 11 - Institute
Chapter 12 - Alexandra
Chapter 13 – School Things
Chapter 14 - Education
Chapter 15 - Nibbling
Chapter 16 - Limits
Chapter 17 - Routines & Surprises
Chapter 18 - Master Thomas
Chapter 19 - Belled
Chapter 20 - Labels
Chapter 21 - Stocks
Chapter 22 - Puppy Girl
Chapter 23 - Wag the Tail
Chapter 24 - Exercise
Chapter 25 - Puppy Soccer
Chapter 26 - Surprise
Author's Foreword
This book was originally published in 2 parts, Wage Slaves 1 and 3. The storyline fits better this way, in my opinion. Hindsight is a curse of every author. I hope you enjoy the story.
Alan Horn.
Chapter 1 - Serendipity
My name is John. There's more than that, but I don't want anyone reading this to know the rest. I value my privacy. I'm seventy years old. I'm in good health and well educated. Though I doubt any women I meet would be interested in me. I have three grown children and two grandchildren. I also have two senior cats and a teenage dog. My wife left me for a younger man five years ago. I'm still in the good graces of my children although they seem to prefer their mother to me. Oh well.
They say old age is fifteen years older than you are. I exercise every morning and go to the gym twice a week. I buy five dollars in lottery tickets every week. I rarely win, and if I do, its never even five dollars. I know the odds are bad. I was an engineer before I retired. But you can't win if you don't play and I never spend more than I can afford. Besides, I have a good pension and social security and I put a lot in my IRA. What else would I spend it on?
The life many people dream of, right? I am a type A personality so I'm often bored. I volunteered at few local charities and looked for willing women. I found a few who wanted to play. Never had to pay for it.
Six months ago I got online and checked my lottery tickets. I always bought one state lottery ticket, two one dollar mega millions and one two dollar power ball. I couldn't believe my eyes. I had a winning power ball ticket. I must have checked it ten times. It was the only winning ticket. The purse was almost three hundred and fifty million dollars. Oh, my. Now what do I do. I only get about half if I take it in cash. I'm seventy. I want instant gratification. Uncle Sugar takes almost thirty five percent . A little mental math revealed I was going to take home about one hundred million dollars. Oh shit.
I felt an overwhelming urge to rush out and cash in the ticket. Then caution kicked in. If anyone knew I had won a fortune, they would be all over me like flies on honey. I knew that lottery winners in my state were considered public records. And the newspapers would tell everyone where I lived. But this was power ball and it was played in all the states. I wondered if there were any where it was considered private? A quick search on the internet showed several such. I bought a ticket and was in Wichita the next afternoon and put my winnings into my brokerage account. I was home that night with no one the wiser and all my winnings went into several index funds.
I felt pretty good about myself. I was rich beyond reason and no one knew about it. I didn't have a girlfriend or wife, my children didn't live close. I thought about going out to celebrate, but decided I wasn't stable enough yet for that. I turned on my computer and browsed a few porn sites. I had never signed up or paid for one, just lurked and watched the trailers. I found one where a guy who looked about my age was riveting a collar and heavy shackles on to a pretty and naked young woman. The implacability of the rivets and the heavy steel bands caught my fancy.
I have always harbored secret fantasies of owning a slave girl. Of course they were just fantasies that were not PC. As I watched the trailer, I thought, hell, I'm retired. I have the money, so I paid for the whole movie. It lasted about an hour and wasn't well done. The setting was a big old barn in good condition. There was no sign of why the woman was there and she made no attempt to escape. Also there was no end. It just stopped. Oh, I enjoyed it, because the woman was naked, wore chains and was pretty. I was hard all through it.
When it was over, I did a little more internet research. Bondage modeling paid well for having no skills, but they weren't going to get rich. It looked to me like I could hire one of them without too much trouble or cost. But if I was going to keep one around, I would need a better place to live with more privacy. No problem. I started a realtor looking. My requirements were simple and his dream. Many acres, lots of privacy, mansion with a big basement, close to the city, up to ten million.
I spent many hours considering my desire and my plan. I could find any number of beautiful women to show off. I was wealthy. I could hire ten escorts a night if I wanted. I am a quiet, studious type of overachiever. I didn't go to nightclubs or bars. I had slight personal knowledge of women. I had had one wife and I got too boring for her. How should I behave? Tough question.
I knew I wanted to have female companionship. I knew I wanted her to obey me without question. I loved the concept of owning a slave girl. I had enough money to provide a rich environment for as many slave girls as I could find. The catch was, I'm a good guy. The essence of a deal is that everyone gets what they want. I had money. Lots of money. I don't want a girl who doesn't want me. So how do I find such a girl. One who wants to be a slave to a guy she doesn't know already. I wan not going to use my money to hurt anyone. I needed to keep my self respect. I would not coerce or force anyone. I would ensure that any girl I enticed into my slavery would find themselves better off when done. And happy while doing it. Or I would drop the whole project.
I decided to approach the problem by finding a pretty, submissive girl who has not found what she wants. I thought, run an ad. Put it where an unfulfilled submissive might look. Heck, run it where lots of women look. By all the porn on the internet lots of women were into this. It did not matter how many uninterested women saw it. Any girl I chose would never have to work again.
I also wanted an exhibitionist. I want to show selected people that I had a beautiful, sexy slave girl. I figured this was way more envy inducing than a private jet.
Now I have an almost new house on eighty acres only ten miles out of the city. It has five bedrooms, seven baths, a guest house, a four car garage, a shop, and a full basement. Money does solve some problems. I had hired a butler, an actual butler, a cook, three security men, a gardener, a forester and a driver. I also retained a law firm and rented an office downtown with a phony name on the door. I paid well above market and got good people. My total annual employee expenses was only a fraction of my earnings. So, I was on my way to hiring my next employee, my sex slave.
After a little thought, I had high quality cameras installed in most rooms of the house. Some hidden, some not. They would record when they sensed motion. I had a large fortified room built in the basement to be my recording control room. I had it set up a company that specialized in video production. I had the idea that there would be a market for videos showing the day-to-day life of a sex slave. Sort of a porn version of the Truman Show. I fantasized about getting two girls, but decided I would test my processes on just one. I could always add another one later.
I worr
ied about security. This was no rich man's island. I was only ten miles from a large city. I bought this place and dropped lots of records. Anyone with a criminal intent might see this place and me as a soft target. So I hardened up a bit. I hired retired Senior Master Chief Sam Jones from Seal Team Six to head my security detail. We walked the whole seventy eight acres. We mapped every ingress and egress route. We pinpointed every observation point and every hiding point. We found every place an intruder might hide. Then I had the chief find a contractor with former military or police experience.
They "landscaped." The chief eliminated the best hiding places and buried miles of power and sensor cables. I converted a garage into a security center. It tracked the hundreds of sensors and starlight cameras they installed. I had three independent standby generators installed. Any one of which could power the whole place. I turned both roads into the place into a choke point by careful landscaping. I had ditches, ponds, and large boulders with lots of shrubs and trees added. The contractor felled and positioned trees so no motorcycle could get through my forest. Anyone going into or out of the place in a vehicle was going to have to use one of those roads. Finally, I installed hydraulic vehicle barriers at the entrances.
It took several million dollars and three months of sixteen hour days. Chief Jones said he was satisfied. He told me he needed to hire more security staff. We agreed on a force of twelve. Four on duty at all times and I built nice housing for them on the estate.
My new butler, Harold, got the job of finding her. I made clear that this was to be completely legal. The girl I wanted would have a binding contract and be well paid. A little more research and it looked like a good bondage model would get less than fifty thousand a year. So I thought I would try an ad like this.
"Attention experienced actress or bondage model. Exciting new production. Top rates. Must commit to one year on set. Full immersion opportunity."
What the applicants would learn: Come be a sex slave. You will always be under tight control. I will pay you twenty percent more than you made last year plus the girls get 10 % of the net. The job is all day, every day for one year. You can leave anytime you want. If you stay the full year I will give you a bonus of two hundred thousand, all expenses paid. No damage will occur to you except a little soreness. You will usually be naked. I may display you to others.
My lawyer and I worked out all the permission forms for them to sign. I arranged a payment plan that guaranteed their funds if anything happened to me. I planned to record her every action, both for my protection and, who knows, I might like to be a pornographer. I understand that's where the real money is. I didn't need the money, but I would deposit artist's royalties to the sex slave.
Then I told Harold what I wanted. An experienced bondage model. Pretty with no attachments. I let him work out a search plan and awaited results.
The part I had trouble with was how to interact with my 'employee?' I had lived with a woman in a vanilla marriage. I realized my libido was overreaching now that I could have almost anything I wanted. I had realized young that I loved the vision of a helpless slave girl who obeyed my every command. But I didn't know if any women existed who would consent to the kind of life I was arranging. My real hope was to find a woman whose greed exceeded her fear.
I suppose my personality is my biggest fear. I put my name on every tool and item of equipment. I want to whip a woman. To watch the marks of my whip turn red and swell. I want to mark a woman as mine. I want her to want to my property. I want everyone who sees her to see proof of my ownership. I want to mark her. I read 'Story of O' and I identified with Sir Stephan. I wanted to own a woman so thoroughly I could brand her with my initials. Yet, I was kind to animals and small dogs. I did not want to hurt her. I did not have an answer, except to find a woman to play with and see what happened.
Chapter 2 - Submissive
I was exhausted. Today I had the day off from my job. Part time receptionist. Some job. So I had gone on three casting calls. All dead-ends. I thought of myself as an actress, but all my roles had been in porn videos. The pay was OK, but irregular. I let myself into the apartment I shared with Denise. She was gone. The room was hot and musty. Afternoon sun Shone in through the windows and dust motes danced in the air I had stirred. I dropped my purse on the hall table, poured myself a glass of water and sighed. I didn't have the energy to do anything, so I lay down on the couch , just for a moment. I woke, groggy when Denise touched my arm. "Hullo," I slurred.
Denise stood and looked down at me with a blank stare. "You didn't undress or fix dinner, she said, " accusingly.
"I'm sorry. I was exhausted. I had three casting calls today. I didn't have a chance for lunch," I whined.
"Go get undressed."
I got up and went into the bath. I took off my watch and necklace. I dropped my panties in the hamper and went into the bedroom. I stripped off my outer clothes, stockings, and bra and put them away. I ran a brush through my hair a couple of times.
Nude, I went back into the living room. I held out my hands and Denise clamped the cuffs on, ratcheting them one notch past snug and double locked them. I felt better now that I was dressed for home. It felt normal. I really was an exhibitionist. I knew my body was one of my best attributes.
"Now fix dinner," she ordered.
I fixed a simple tuna salad and sliced orange for dinner. I set her place at the table and went to the door to the living room. Denise was sitting on the couch reading a newspaper. "Dinner is served, Denise." She came to the table and moved my cuffs behind my back. I knelt beside her and hoped she would not be so upset she didn't feed me.
After a few bites, she said, "Tastes good, Emily. Be ready next time." She held a fork full of salad to my lips.
Yes, Denise. I'm sorry." I opened my mouth wide and she inserted the fork. I closed my lips as she pulled the fork out. It was good. I made the dressing with lemon balsamic vinegar and truffle olive oil. Some of our favorites. It was hard chopping the carrots and radishes wearing my cuffs. But I'm glad I added them.
"OK, she said. Its over. Punishment after dinner. Now tell me about the casting calls."
"I think I won't get a part. They wanted more athletic types. There was a lot of running involved and they all thought my boobs were too big. I think they were all casting Big Doll House meets Jason Bourne.
Denise finished eating and I got a reasonable part. I put the dishes in the washer. She left my hands locked behind me. I could do everything except cook and get dressed with my hands behind me. I had worn them ever since I moved in with Denise.
Denise sounded sad, "That's too bad. We're getting low on funds and the rents due. We both better look harder for a job. I'll take almost anything at this point. Punishment time. Go get my hairbrush. You'll get ten."
"Oh, Denise, not that. It hurts so bad. I scream every time you paddle me with it. Couldn't you just use your hand?"
"Complaining gets you double. Get your gag too."
I sulked into the bedroom, struggled the drawer open and got my big, red ballgag. I got her hairbrush from the bath. I trudged into Denise. She was still sitting in her dining chair.
"Kneel here," she said, pointing to her feet. She strapped the gag in place and said, "across my lap."
I stood and lay my body across her legs. She held her brush in her right hand and used her left hand to hold my cuffs and press me down into her. I could kick, but I was otherwise helpless.
I tried not to scream when the first scalding blow landed on my bare ass. I succeeded and felt a moment of triumph. But it was short lived as the second smacked into my other cheek. My muffled scream shouted my subjugation into the room. By the time she was done, I was truly chastised. I would never, never disobey her again. When she let me up I was sobbing, blubbering into my gag. When she removed the ball from my mouth, I kissed her feet, fervently. I cleaned her shoes with my tongue. I made long slow licks on both sides of both shoes.
I had started back on the first shoe when she said, "Emily,
did your spanking teach you anything?"
"Yes, Denise. I was lazy and did not obey your instructions. I will try to improve."
"Did you learn what you are, Emily?"
"Yes, Denise. I know You are my mistress and I am your slave. I learned I must obey your commands. I failed and I deserved to be punished. Thank you for correcting me. I will do better."
"All right. Your punishment is done. Go to the bathroom."
"Yes, Denise."
I was paging through the Stranger and read reviews of some movies and grunge groups. I was scanning the personals and one caught my eye. It had a drawing of handcuffs on top. " Submissive girls wanted for 24/7 employment. One year guaranteed. Full benefits. High pay. All expenses. Total submission required. Successful candidate will be kept on a short tether. Excellent facilities. High pay. Only beautiful, experienced girls should apply. Call 206-555-1212." I read it, and re read it. I wonder what 'high pay' meant. I felt my belly tremble. I was getting excited.
Denise had gone to the store. I looked at the handcuffs on my wrists. Denise had put them on me before she left. I wore nothing else. Since I had moved in with her, this was my norm. When I came home I had to strip and wait for her. She always put the cuffs on me when she got home. On weekends I wore them all day behind my back. She cuffed my hands behind me for sleeping and sex.
We decided together that I did not need anything but the cuffs. I liked it. Actually, we had a real discussion about our roles when I moved in. I knew I was submissive and I wanted to go deeper, so I wanted to be the sub. Denise wanted to switch. She said she wanted to be fair. I didn't and finally convinced her I would not accept a dom role. It just wasn't in me. She agreed to try it and it has grown on both of us. It was like her hand was on me all the time. I felt secure, safe. I don't think it has to be Denise, but I want someone to take care of me and make all the important decisions. Here and now, this was my whole world. I could shut out everything else. I like my life simple.
