Perfect Slave

by Becky Bell

  ‘Go inside. Take off all your clothes apart from your panties. What size shoe do you take?’

  ‘Five.’

  ‘I will be back in five minutes.’

  The room was bare apart from a metal-framed single bed. Quickly, not wanting to allow herself to think too much about what she was doing, Andrea took her dress off and laid it neatly on the bed. She took off her shoes and her tights, and the black strapless bra she was wearing, then sat on the bed with her hands on her knees. She didn’t think she had ever felt so excited in her entire life.

  The door opened. ‘Please take your watch off too,’ Hawksworth said. He had changed into a heavy scarlet velvet robe, braided in gold thread. Andrea obeyed. He appeared hardly to glance at her body.

  ‘Now follow me.’

  The room next door was the same size but quite different. It was carpeted in heavy black cord, which had also been used to line the walls and the ceiling, and even the back of the doors. Hanging from three wooden beams that traversed the ceiling were a selection of pulleys, chains, and leather straps. There was a metal frame in one corner, about the size of a double bed, and a number of metal rings on one wall clearly used to spread-eagle a victim in a standing position. But most frightening of all, there was a rack on the wall behind the door which held every conceivable type of instrument of flagellation, from riding crops to tawses, paddles and cat-o-nine-tails.

  Next to this rack was a large wooden cupboard, its double doors firmly closed.

  ‘Put on those shoes.’

  There was a pair of white patent leather high heels in the middle of the floor. Andrea stepped into them. The heels were so high they pushed her feet into an almost vertical position.

  ‘I want you to get out all the equipment I am going to use,’ Hawksworth said calmly. ‘In the cupboard. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good. We’ll start with a gag...’

  Chapter Three

  ‘So what happened?’

  It had been a mistake to tell Pam that she was having dinner with Charles Darrington Hawksworth.

  ‘He offered me a job.’

  ‘A job?’

  Yes. After the excesses of Saturday night Hawksworth had cut her down from her bondage and taken her back into the room next door. He’d left her alone while she got dressed, then took her back into the sitting room. He told her to go into the office on Monday morning, hand over any important work and tell everyone, including her immediate boss, that she was being assigned to his personal staff for a trial period of one month. It was almost the truth, after all.

  ‘He wants me to sort out all his computers.’

  ‘God. And I thought it was going to be something a hell of a lot more romantic.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Pam.’

  ‘So how long will you be gone?’

  ‘A month.’

  ‘He is very dishy. I suppose if you are going to be working with him personally you might get to know him a lot better.’ Pam stuck her tongue out and wriggled it about obscenely.

  ‘I doubt it,’ Andrea lied. ‘Listen, I’d better go. I’ve got to go and see Gordon before I leave.’

  ‘See you in a month then. And if you can’t be good be careful.’ Pam held up two fingers and mimed rolling a condom over them.

  ‘You’re incorrigible.’

  ‘Ask him if he wants another assistant. I could show him a good time.’

  But would you be prepared to be bound and whipped by him, Andrea thought. Pam’s sex life, as far as she knew, was extensive but conventional.

  ‘See you then,’ she said.

  Andrea walked out of the office. After ten minutes with Gordon Plait, her boss, she walked out of the building too.

  She supposed she should have asked Charles Hawksworth if she could think everything over before she made up her mind, but what would have been the point? What happened on Saturday had changed her life. It was an opportunity and she intended to grab it with both hands.

  He arranged for the car to pick her up at four-thirty. His instructions had been very specific. She was to wear a plain dress with no underwear or tights, and a pair of flat-heeled shoes. She was not to wear any make-up or jewellery, or her watch. The only possession she would bring with her was the keys to her flat. Someone would be assigned to look after it while she was away.

  So, standing at her bedroom window, acutely aware of the fact she was wearing neither panties nor a bra, she had watched the black Mercedes with its opaque black windows pull up at the curb at twenty minutes past the hour. At four-thirty precisely the blond chauffeur got out and rang the doorbell.

  Andrea took a last look around, double locked her flat door and ran down the stairs.

  The chauffeur was waiting by the car. He opened the rear passenger door for her but did not smile or say a word as she climbed in.

  ‘Good afternoon.’

  The voice startled Andrea. Sitting in the back of the car with her long legs crossed, was Laurie Angelis. She was wearing a wrap-over white silk blouse, a knee-length black leather skirt, shiny gunmetal grey nylons, and calf-length boots with a stiletto heel. Her long jet-black hair was pinned into a tight chignon, revealing the sinews of her neck. Andrea noticed her fingernails were painted with a deep-blue varnish.

  Andrea sat on the seat next to her, and the chauffeur closed the door and got behind the wheel.

  ‘I thought...’

  ‘Don’t think from now on,’ Laurie interrupted sternly, as the car pulled away. The glass divider between the passengers and the driver was open. Laurie pressed a button and it glided up with a whirr of electric motors. ‘That’s better,’ she said. ‘Now we have our privacy. Mr Hawksworth likes me to prepare all his little...’ she appeared to be searching for the right word, ‘chicks, personally. So there are no misunderstandings. Give me your keys.’

  Andrea hadn’t factored Laurie into the equation. But she suddenly remembered what Hawksworth had said over dinner, that Laurie was responsible for enforcing discipline. If the ‘training’ Charles Hawksworth had talked about was conducted at the manor, it looked as though Laurie would be on hand to supervise. She handed her the keys. The brunette put them into a small black handbag at the side of her seat.

  ‘What are you wearing?’

  ‘Just this dress and the shoes,’ Andrea said. ‘That’s what I was told.’

  ‘Take them off.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You heard. Get on your knees and take them off.’

  ‘Can’t I wait until we get to the house?’

  ‘Andrea, I thought it had been explained to you. You are here to obey. That’s all. If you do not wish to do as you’re told I’ll get George to turn around and take you home. It’s as simple as that. Now I will not ask you again.’

  In Andrea’s mind she had seen herself alone with Charles Hawksworth, alone as they had been on Saturday night. But clearly Laurie was acting on his orders, and if she wanted to see him again she had little choice but to obey. She looked at the driver. He was paying no attention to her, but there was no doubt he would be able to see everything in the rear-view mirror.

  Andrea slid to her knees. The spacious floor of the stretch Mercedes was covered in thick carpet. She unbuttoned the dress and reluctantly pulled it off, her breasts quivering. The car came to a halt at a set of traffic lights and she saw people on the pavement peering in, trying to see through the opaque black glass; if the car carried some notable celebrity. Fortunately, Andrea knew, all they would be able to see was a reflection of their own faces.

  The car pulled off again.

  ‘Now your shoes,’ Laurie said, her voice betraying no emotion.

  Andrea slipped her shoes off.

  ‘I want you to kneel on all fours facing front.’

  Again Andrea saw no alternative but to obey.

 
‘Open your knees, girl. I want to take a good look at you.’

  This was not what Andrea had imagined her journey would be like. She’d imagined herself sitting in the luxurious car drinking champagne and enjoying the anticipation of what Charles Hawksworth would do to her when she got to the manor. She had not expected to be kneeling naked at Laurie Angelis’ feet, being made to obey her every command.

  But as she eased her knees apart, intensely aware of the fact that in this position her sex was completely exposed, she felt a strong stab of excitement.

  The car had stopped again. This time Andrea could see the chauffeur’s eyes looking at her in the rear-view mirror. She wondered how many times he had seen such a spectacle.

  ‘Do you shave?’ Laurie asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘In future you will address me as Ms Angelis.’

  ‘Yes, Ms Angelis.’ For some reason that litany produced another sharp pang of arousal. She felt her nipples stiffening.

  ‘Not much hair.’

  Andrea heard the rasp of nylon as Laurie uncrossed her legs. Slowly she extended her foot. The black leather toe of her boot ran up the inside of Andrea’s thigh until it was touching her labia. Andrea shuddered. A woman had never touched her so intimately before.

  ‘Turn around.’ The foot dropped away.

  Andrea turned as the car pulled away from another set of traffic lights.

  ‘I can see why he wants you,’ Laurie said. She reached forward with her right hand and cupped Andrea’s breast. Her dark-blue fingernails tweaked her nipple. ‘Have you ever been with a woman?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘No what?’ Laurie snapped.

  ‘No, Ms Angelis.’

  ‘How interesting. Mr Hawksworth likes to watch, did you know that? He likes me to entertain him. I think I shall enjoy entertaining him with you.’

  ‘What?’ Andrea exclaimed.

  ‘Hadn’t you thought about that? Obedience is obedience, Andrea. You have to do what you’re told, whatever it may be.’ Laurie had a sensual mouth, and it creased into a smile revealing her perfect teeth.

  Andrea said nothing. But her mind was spinning. Laurie was quite right, of course. Hawksworth had made it absolutely plain to her that she had to obey his every whim. But she’d never imagined that would involve having sex with another woman. The idea shocked her, but it was not a shock of revulsion. Quite the reverse. She felt a sickly sweet excitement enveloping her and her clitoris pulsed strongly.

  Laurie seemed to sense this reaction. Her smile broadened. ‘That turns you on, doesn’t it? Well I’m sorry to disappoint you, but you’re going to have to wait. Since you are, how shall we put it, a virgin in that department, Mr Hawksworth will want to watch your initiation. Come closer,’ Laurie said.

  There was a large nylon holdall on the floor by her feet. She reached into it and took out a stainless steel collar. It was hinged at the side with a small steel ring at the front, and was identical to the one Andrea had seen the maid wearing on Saturday night. Laurie leant forward, hooked it around her throat. There was a loud click as the locking mechanism engaged at the back of her neck.

  The brunette delved into the bag again. ‘Put this on.’ Laurie draped a red satin basque on the floor in front of Andrea. ‘Red is good with your blonde hair,’ she added.

  Andrea picked it up. The garment was beautifully made, the satin silky and soft to the touch, with black lacing decorating the front panel. It did not have a full bra, but rather small semi-circular cups that were obviously intended to fit under rather than over the breasts. Andrea wrapped the corset around her body. It was a little too small for her and she couldn’t manage to fit the eyes into the hooks at the back, however hard she tried.

  ‘Not a very good start,’ Laurie said, clicking her tongue. ‘You better lay down. On your front.’

  Andrea obeyed, the interior of the car easily big enough for her to lie flat. Laurie knelt beside her.

  ‘Breath in.’

  Gradually Andrea felt the corset gripping her body as Laurie worked her way down the long row of fastenings, each one cinching the basque more tightly and making breathing more difficult. It was boned around the waist to give an hour-glass figure.

  ‘I imagine you can manage to put these on for yourself.’ She pulled a cellophane packet of stockings out of the bag and sat back on the seat. They were a light champagne colour. ‘You can sit up here.’ She patted the seat beside her.

  Andrea sat on the black leather. It felt cold against her naked buttocks. The quarter bra cups of the basque pushed her breasts up, making them stand out obscenely. She took the stockings out of their packet and rolled them slowly up her legs.

  ‘They have a seam, make sure it’s straight,’ Laurie ordered.

  As best she could Andrea tried to get the seam running in a vertical line up the back of her legs. The stockings were very sheer. They had a fully-fashioned heel and a seam right up to the wide welts that banded her thighs. Andrea clipped them into the long satin suspenders and felt a familiar buzz of anticipation. Her body knew how to respond to this treatment. In her masturbation ritual donning the corset and the stockings was always a precursor to orgasm.

  ‘Now kneel again, in front of me.’

  This time Laurie pulled out a coil of silky white nylon rope from the holdall. She threaded one end through the ring in the steel collar.

  ‘Put your hands together, in front of your chin,’ she ordered.

  Andrea did as she was told and the brunette quickly looped cords of the rope around her wrists, tying her hands together tightly and making it impossible for her to lower them.

  For only the second time in her life Andrea’s bondage was real. The first time was in the manor, Saturday night. She tried to pull her hands apart and away from the steel collar, but the bonds gave not an inch. The feeling thrilled her. Stretched spread-eagled across her bed, though three of her limbs had been secured, there was always the fourth. She had the impression of being tightly bound but not the substance. She could always free herself. Now she did not have that option.

  Laurie had taken another item from the bag. It was a black leather helmet with a crisscross of laces at the back. She quickly wound Andrea’s hair into a simple ponytail, then pulled the helmet down over her head, looping the hair through a hole just above where the lacing began. There was a small hole in the front of the helmet that fitted over her nostrils, three larger ovals for the eyes and the mouth. The brunette began to pull the laces tight, until Andrea could feel the soft leather moulding itself to the contours of her face like a second skin.

  ‘Sit back up here,’ Laurie said.

  Andrea moved to obey. Without thinking she tried to extend her hands to balance herself, and the fact that they were jerked back firmly against the rope gave another twist to her spiral of excitement. She managed to squirm up onto the leather seat, but without her arms for support could not prevent herself falling back against it heavily. She was very excited. She was wriggling her buttocks against the leather almost subconsciously, and could feel a slick of wetness on her labia.

  She glanced out of the window and realised the car had taken a different route from the last time, and was not going south to the embankment but west along the Euston Road.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she asked, forgetting herself for a moment.

  ‘You will learn not to speak unless you are spoken to,’ Laurie snapped. She slapped her hand down hard on Andrea’s thigh, making her yelp. The noise attracted the driver’s attention. She saw his eyes examining her in the rear-view mirror.

  Laurie took a pair of red leather high-heels from the holdall. She bent forward and fitted them onto Andrea’s feet. They had an ankle strap, which she buckled tightly.

  ‘Nearly done,’ she said.

  She turned to face Andrea, bringing herself to within inches of her face. ‘You love it, do
n’t you?’

  There was no point in lying. Andrea’s whole body was throbbing with some very familiar sensations, intensified by a whole set of very new ones. ‘Yes, Ms Angelis,’ she said softly. Their mouths were no more than six inches apart and she couldn’t help imagining how it would feel to kiss those fleshy lips and feel that pliant mouth crushed against hers. The thought created another jolt of pleasure.

  Laurie raised her hand and stroked Andrea’s leather-covered cheek.

  ‘Close your eyes,’ she said.

  Andrea did as she was told. In the darkness she heard the noise of two short zips being pulled and felt tightness over her eyelids. The oval eyeholes had been closed. She opened her eyes tentatively, but the darkness was complete.

  She felt Laurie moving slightly on the seat next to her. She heard a clink of a glass. Then the weight beside her shifted again. Laurie was having a drink. They seemed to have escaped the worst of the traffic now and the car’s forward progress was less halting. Its smooth suspension and quiet engine were soporific. Andrea inhaled the pungent smell of leather. It reminded her of last Saturday night. That had been the most exciting experience of her life, but it was only the beginning. What had happened to her already today was so far beyond anything she could have imagined that it left her in little doubt that Charles Hawksworth’s ‘training’ was going to be a monumental voyage of self-discovery.

  In the blackness behind the blindfold she could see herself, sitting with her hands tied in an attitude of prayer, her forearms resting against her breasts, the tight red basque cinched around her body, the suspenders pulling the stocking tops into peaks on her thighs.

  Laurie had effectively robbed her of her will. And that was the point, after all. She was no longer allowed to think or do even the simplest thing for herself, and that was exciting her. But she was glad she’d been dressed so provocatively. She wanted to look her best when she met her master again. He was all that mattered now.

  ‘Out.’

  She must have fallen asleep because she woke with a start. A hand was pulling her up.