by Nicola Diaz
“Strip,” he commanded once he’d closed the door behind her. She obeyed instantly. “Jenna, for the remaining time here, you will be naked at all times, unless we have company, or need to go out. You will do all your household duties nude. The entire staff will see you this way and know it is a mark of your servitude and disobedience. You lied to me, so you will lose the privilege of clothing. Don’t push me on this, or you will also be sleeping in an open bed in the middle of the staff quarters, and using the bathroom in the open as well.”
He pointed to the floor in front of him. She knelt and he pushed her down, arranging her until he could prop his feet on her back. “Every day, I will use you in ways that please me. I will choke you, use electricity on you, I will fuck every hole you have with the most obscene things I can find. Some days, I will force you to orgasm, even if you don’t want to. Other days, I refuse you an orgasm, even if you beg for one. This is your punishment for dishonesty to me.”
He took his feet off her and ordered her to turn around so her ass faced him. He pushed her head down until her ass was high in the air. He selected a cigar from the humidor near his chair and unwrapped it. He rubbed the cigar over her pussy lips before slowly inserting it into her pussy and fucking her with it. Jenna was still swollen from the huge dildos the day before, so the rough texture made the cigar feel gigantic. He pulled it out and rubbed it up and down her clit.
“That’s it,” he spoke softly, “you’re going to be a good slave from now on and accept your punishment with grace, aren’t you?” The cigar rasped against her clit and Jenna started to tremble. “Yes, you may cum, Jenna.”
She exploded in orgasm, soaking his hand and the cigar before collapsing to the floor. “Huh,” he chuckled, “guess that will need to dry out. Good job, Jenna.”
Upstairs, as she fell asleep, Jenna couldn’t help but think this wasn’t so bad. When she did as she was told, life was easy and pleasant. She set her alarm early the next morning, determined to have a perfect day.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Jenna slowly transformed into an always obedient, helpful servant who seemed to anticipate his needs and wishes before he even articulated them. He allowed her clothing back, but only carefully selected thin, flowy, silk dresses that revealed almost as much as they concealed.
For Jenna, life became happy and more fulfilling than she’d ever imagined it could be. She only ached for one thing, she wanted him, she wanted his cock.
“Jenna,” his voice had that cold edge to it again and Jenna braced herself as she hurried to the entryway where he was standing.
She was draped in pale rose colored silk, and tiny bells hung from her pierced nipples, they rang softly as she walked. She stopped next to him as he liked and waited.
“Jenna, this is Solage and Derrick,” he gestured at a petulant looking woman and a sullen looking man in front of him. “I’ve purchased both at auction, at a rather dear expense. Solange is with us for two years, and Derrick will be with us for one year. They are both classified as personal slaves under full contract. They are not a couple so they will require separate rooms, please arrange for their rooms and needs. I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Follow me,” Jenna gestured for the two to come along and led them up the stairs. She stopped at a large, feminine looking room and opened the door for Solange. “This will be your room,” she gestured across the hall to an already open door and a very dark, masculine room, “Derrick, you will be there. Mr. Grevel is just down the hall, and my room adjoins his.”
Derrick shrugged and started toward his room with a muttered “thanks”, but Solange looked in her space and scoffed, “Looks like an old fart’s house. Who knew the hard ass would be such a pansy. How long are you stuck with the dick?”
Jenna smiled slowly as she guided Solange into the room, “Appropriate clothing will be brought in for you, you’ll find everything you need in the bathroom, I suggest you take time to clean up and maybe rest a bit.” She turned to walk out the door, but paused, “I’ve been with Mr. Grevel for five years now, but my legal contract was concluded four years ago. And Solange,” she waited until she had the girl’s full attention, “That was one.”
THE END
BONUS STORY 3
DRIPPING ON HER CHEST
“You seem a bit pensive tonight, pet. Anything the matter?” He sat next to her on the soft leather seat as the limo sped through the streets. She shook her head, “No, Master. Everything is wonderful, as always. Just memories.” He reached over and turned her face to him. “No regrets then, pet?”
Tonight was a special occasion. He’d laid out her clothes with precision, as always. He’d been very specific about what he expected of her, as always. But he had not been very clear about anything else. Jessica had learned to trust him. Besides, tonight marked the end of their contract, and he had promised something very special when that happened.
It was exactly one year ago that she had climbed into a very similar limo to take her to a new client. All her regulars were out of town, so she’d agreed to take a very special client. “He’s very particular in his tastes,” her manager had said. “I know you normally don’t do kink, but I think you’ll like this one, and he’s absolutely top shelf. You’ll make four times your normal rate on this assignment.”
So, she’d taken the job. A sleek black cocktail dress, just the right makeup, and she was ready when the limo arrived. The man inside took her breath away, he was young and hot, not what she was used to. He looked her up and down as she got into the car, then nodded and typed a few things into his phone. As they pulled away from the curb, he smiled at Jessica, “He’s waiting for you.” He moved more quickly than she expected, and suddenly Jessica was blindfolded and handcuffed. She started to protest, but the man silenced her. “Protocol,” he advised.
Several twists and turns later, Jessica was helped out of the car, up a short flight of stairs and into a space where their footsteps echoed loudly.
She could feel the man’s hand on her arm, steadying her, holding her in place. Then another set of footsteps echoed through the space. She heard as they got closer, then walked around her.
“Very nice,” the voice was deep, rumbly. “Very nice indeed. Give her over to Bridgette for preparation.” The footsteps resumed again, retreating. Jessica was confused. Her manager had said the man was a little kinky but totally safe, but she was still more than a little frightened.
“Come along,” that was the first man, the one from the limo. His voice was softer than the other’s. He led her out of the echoing room and she was surprised when her feet met plush carpet. She nearly stumbled, but he caught her quickly. They kept walking, climbing stairs, turning here and there, until Jessica’s feet were actually starting to hurt before they finally stopped.
“Mon Dieu!” a woman’s voice rang out, tinged with a slight French accent. “You left the blindfold on? Take it off.” The blindfold was removed and Jessica blinked in the light. She looked quickly around the room. They were in a posh looking office space and the woman in front of her could have stepped from the pages of a fashion magazine. She dismissed the man with a wave of her hand then turned back to Jessica.
“I am Bridgette, the household manager, and you are?” The woman walked around her, looking her up and down. Jessica took a deep breath and stood a little straighter. She knew she looked good. The dress was sexy, but not trashy. She was tall, but not too tall, curvy without being plump, and had a pretty face, good hair and stunning blue eyes.
“You are new,” it was a statement, not a question. “You have been contracted with your agency for one week. I was told you are inexperienced in Master Philipe’s particular tastes. This is a good thing. He’s been wanting someone new to train. During this week, you will be his slave, his plaything. He will do things to you that will hurt you. If you are a good girl, please him and do as he says, you will learn to enjoy it. Otherwise,” she shrugged. “The rules are simple, absolute obedience. Master Philipe’s wor
d is law in this house. Everything you need to know about protocol and procedures is here,” she placed a thin, leather bound book on the desk. “Please read through it, then let me know if you agree. If so, then you will phone your agency and we will proceed.”
Jessica nodded and held up her still-cuffed wrists in silent plea. “Oh no,” Bridgette smiled, “those can stay on for now. You’ll find you can read comfortably in them.” And with a swish of skirt, she left the room.
Jessica picked up the book and sat in the chair facing the desk. She was seriously considering just calling it off and telling the agency that this guy was obviously a freak. But he’d come with the highest references. He’d paid top dollar. If she was going to bail on the job, she’d have to have good reason, or she’d never get a top client again. She opened the book.
The first few pages were schedules of meals, “quiet hours” and other things like that. Then came a list of categorized rules, how to dress for breakfast (usually naked), or for lunch, how to dress when lunch was served outside versus indoors. Jessica’s eyes glazed over, it was like etiquette hell. Then she came to the pages on “presentation poses” and nearly laughed out loud. “Holy shit, is this guy for real?” She breathed while flipping through the rest of the book. It wasn’t her normal gig, but what the hell, the money was good, she’d do it.
Bridgette chose that moment to come back into the room. She stopped in front of Jessica and arched an eyebrow at her. “Have you made a decision?”
Jessica nodded. “I’ll do it.” Her voice was barely a whisper. The whole thing felt like something out of a movie, some rich man’s fantasy game. Based on what little she’d seen so far, and what she knew from the agency, this guy was more than rich. She wondered how far he’d take his little fantasy game. Bridgette nodded briskly, then gestured for her to follow along. She walked down the hallway to a black door at the end and paused outside. “Once you pass through this door, you are no longer able to back out of the contract. This is your last chance to withdraw. Inside, you will be prepared according to Master Philipe’s preferences. You will sleep in a private chamber each night. Tomorrow, you will be presented to Master at breakfast. He will determine how you spend your days and where you take your meals.”
She opened the door and Jessica looked into a room that resembled a hair and nail salon. She shook her head, “weird,” she thought and stepped through the door. Bridgette waved and shut the door behind her, leaving Jessica in the room. A tall, beautiful woman came in from another door.
“Good, you’re here. Undress, please. Everything.” She was brisk, but polite, her voice tinged with the same accent as Bridgette. “Have you had waxing before?” Jessica nodded, she kept her pussy trimmed and waxed neatly, it was good for business. Men paying as much as they paid for her did not want unruly bush. “Good, then you will be prepared. Master Philipe wants everything completely bare, so let’s see. Up on the table.”
Jessica laid on the table as instructed. The woman carefully inspected every inch of her, even spreading her ass cheeks wide apart. “Not bad,” she sighed, “But not perfect. We start with the genitals, get the worst over with.” She spread hot wax over Jessica’s entire pussy, then pressed strips of fabric into the wax and pulled it off quickly. Jessica was used to a bikini wax, but when she got to the lower lips and below, she was wincing and yelping in pain.
The woman didn’t miss a spot. She spread hot wax on the folds above Jessica’s clit and ripped the fabric strip off with a look of sadistic glee. Then she pushed one leg into the air and spread wax up to Jessica’s asshole. She’d never had a Brazilian wax before and now she knew why, that stuff hurt.
An hour later, Jessica was freshly showered, with a completely bare pussy and ass, and freshly waxed eyebrows. She was directed to a small bedroom with a single bed and soft blankets. “Um, is there a robe, or jammies, or…” Jessica started to ask, but the woman just shook her head and handed her the leather bound book. “You are to be presented to Master in the morning, at breakfast. You might want to refresh your memory on presentation protocols as well as breakfast behavior. The lights will go out in 30 minutes, and the alarm will wake you in time to prepare in the morning. Goodnight.”
When she had gone, Jessica quickly read the sections she had suggested. She had so many questions, but no way of asking anyone anything. There was no phone or buzzer or anything in her room.
When she checked the door, it was locked. Panicked, Jessica pulled open the drapes and realized what looked like large windows covered in drapes were really small slits with bars over them. She was locked in a cell. Then the lights went out and Jessica fought to control her rising panic. Eventually she slept.
The alarm startled her, in her sleepy state, Jessica forgot where she was and stumbled out of bed for the bathroom. Then she remembered. Her cell had a small closet with a toilet and sink, but no shower. Her door opened and Bridgette appeared, “The shower room is at the end of the hall, you’ll find everything you need to prepare in there. When you are finished, come to the breakfast room. Since you are new, you may bring the book.” She turned and left Jessica to shower alone.
Jessica showered and wrapped a towel around her before heading to the breakfast room. She felt silly walking around totally naked and the towel was the best thing she could find to cover herself. She got lost twice on the way and came into the room ten minutes past the appointed time. The quiet chatter of the room stopped completely as she walked in the door.
Seated at the table was a handsome, middle-aged man. He was well dressed, with a touch of silver in his dark hair. He looked like he could have stepped off the cover of a magazine. He looked at his watch, then back at Jessica. He crooked his finger at her, calling her to his side, then waved the other staff out of the room.
“You are late,” he said when she’d stopped to his left. It was the same deep, rumbly voice from the night before. “And you are not in proper presentation protocol.”
“I’m sorry, sir, I got lost coming…” Jessica never finished the sentence. His hand flashed out and slapped her face. Hard enough to sting.
“I did not give you permission to speak, nor did I ask a question that required answer.” His voice tightened in anger. “You have the book, I presume you read it and are capable of understanding the contents. Perhaps you should start by achieving proper presentation.”
Jessica struggled to recall what she should do. She dropped the towel and went to her knees next to his chair, placing her hands folded in her lap, and bowing her head. She waited.
“Much better.” His voice was still tight. “You are late. Ten minutes, exactly. And now you have delayed my breakfast another five minutes. You will remain as you are while I finish my meal. Then you will receive your punishment for being late. After that, we can discuss your service here.”
Jessica sat silently while he finished eating. The staff returned, serving the rest of his meal, clearing plates and food. Jessica’s stomach rumbled. She’d not had dinner the night before and she was starving. A hand appeared in front of her face with a small plate of toast and bacon. “Eat,” his voice rumbled. “Thank you, sir,” she took the plate and ate the small amount of food.
“You will be given a proper meal after punishment,” he added. When she had finished, he handed the plate off and sent the staff out of the room again. Without warning, his hand caught in Jessica’s hair and he dragged her to her feet, then bent her over the table. He held her face down against the polished wood and pressed her body flat against the surface, then kicked her feet wider apart.
“Place your hands over your head,” he instructed. “Do not reach back, or try to cover yourself. I will strike your hands, and I will add two strokes for every one you try to cover. You were ten minutes late, and caused a five minute delay. That will be fifteen strokes with the cane.”
The next thing Jessica felt was a stinging blow on her ass. She heard the whistle of the cane through the air just before it struck skin. She jumped and yelped and
fought the instinct to reach her hands back to cover her ass.
“I suggest you keep count,” his voice pure gravel. “One, thank you, sir,” Jessica breathed. She’d remembered that much of the protocol at least! The cane whistled through the air again and Jessica winced as it struck across both ass cheeks. “Two, thank you, sir!”
On the third strike, Jessica cried out before she was able to give the count, on the fourth her hands reached down to cover her ass, but she caught them in time. The fifth strike was harder still and Jessica stifled a scream before giving the count and thanking him. This guy was crazy. He was actually caning her for being late to breakfast.
The next five strikes came fast and relatively light, one after the other. Jessica rushed to keep up the count, finally breathing out “Ten, thank you sir!”
“Five more, Jessica,” his voice had softened some. “I want you to count these down. No thank you, just a number. Five, four, three… like that.”
