Perfect Slave

by Becky Bell

  ‘Oui, Madame Vuittenez,’ the girl said meekly.

  ‘Or there’s Simone over there. You wouldn’t mind would you, Pierre?’

  ‘For you, Charles, anything.’

  ‘And who is this charming creature,’ Hawksworth asked, turning to the girl in red rubber who’d met Andrea at the door.

  ‘Sophie,’ said Marie-Claire, ‘our star pupil.’

  ‘Then come here, Sophie,’ Hawksworth beckoned, and the girl walked closer. Andrea could only see him from the corner of her eye, but it appeared that he kissed her on the lips. He had never done that to her. ‘But for the moment I’m content to watch,’ he said.

  ‘Bon,’ Marie-Claire said. ‘I love being watched. Are you comfortable here, or shall we go upstairs?’

  ‘I’m fine here,’ Hawksworth said. He selected an armchair and sat down.

  ‘She’s good,’ Pierre said to him, nodding at Andrea.

  ‘Thank you,’ Hawksworth replied.

  ‘Has she been buggered?’

  ‘Yes, but only by me.’

  ‘Do you mind?’

  ‘My dear man, you’re going to have her here for seven days. This is the last lap of her training. You and Marie-Claire have carte blanche with all the girls.’

  ‘True,’ Pierre mused. ‘So kneel up on the sofa, girl,’ he ordered.

  ‘Ohhh...’ Marie-Claire suddenly threw her head back and groaned in delight, Claudine’s face back between her thighs, the girl’s tongue lapping at her clitoris.

  ‘Sophie, bring me some nipple clips,’ Pierre instructed. ‘If Charles wants a show will give him one.’

  As Andrea got up on the sofa, helped by Simone, Sophie crossed to a small box on an occasional table and took out a thin metal chain, at each end of which were the oval clips Andrea had experienced for herself.

  ‘Get her nice and wet for me, Simone,’ Pierre said, and Simone immediately lay on her back on the sofa, then wriggled back between Andrea’s knees until her face was immediately under her sex. She wrapped her hands around Andrea’s thighs, just above her stocking tops, and pulled her down onto her face. Instantly Andrea felt her tongue dart up into her sex, butting against her clit. It was such a relief after all her frustrations that she whimpered loudly.

  Pierre got to his feet and stripped off his cotton robe, his erect cock bobbing from his groin. He stood at the side of the two girls and cupped Andrea’s breasts, pinching her nipples, making her moan with pleasure. Already she was feeling the familiar precursors to an orgasm, but she knew, with Hawksworth’s eyes watching every move she made, she was not allowed to come. But Simone’s tongue was artful. It seemed to be able to find the spot on her clitoris which produced the greatest pangs of pleasure, and wave after wave of delight was making her shudder and convulse.

  Sophie carried the nipple clips over to Marie-Claire, pulled the shoulder straps of the slip down her arms and bared the blonde’s breasts. The girl opened the jaws of the clips and fitted them over her nipples, making Marie-Claire gasp.

  Pierre gripped Andrea’s neck, pulling her face back to his cock. She opened her mouth and sucked it in, her eyes searching out Hawksworth’s, remembering how it felt as he came in her mouth not so long before. He met her gaze, those blue eyes betraying not the least emotion, neither excitement nor disdain.

  Pierre pulled his cock out of Andrea’s mouth and climbed on the sofa, kneeling behind her, astride Simone. Andrea felt his throbbing erection nudging against her buttocks.

  Simone raised her head and coated Pierre’s cock with saliva, making hungry slurping noises. Then as Andrea felt her mouth latching back on her sex lips Pierre’s cock thrust into the opening of her anus.

  ‘No,’ she murmured, but her body betrayed her, her sphincter opening to allow his glans to press inside. It was only the second time she had experienced such discomfort in her life, but it quickly transmogrified into sinful pleasure. Her sex clenched and she felt her clit pulse as Simone’s clever tongue teased it.

  Everywhere around her was sex. She could see Marie-Claire stretched out across the armchair, her head thrown back, both legs now resting on Claudine’s shoulders, the heels of her white satin slippers digging into the girl’s back. Claudine was licking her sex avidly with broad strokes of her tongue, while Sophie stood beside the chair with the chain of the nipple clips in her hand, pulling it up so that the blonde’s nipples formed two tortured peaks.

  Pierre thrust his cock forward, into the depths of Andrea’s rear passage. Another stab of pain rippled through her, instantly followed by hot, fervid pleasure. Her whole body shuddered. She was on the brink of a violent orgasm, Simone’s tongue working ceaselessly between her legs, bringing her closer and closer. She looked over at Hawksworth, trying to beg him with her eyes to give her permission, but he was looking at Marie-Claire.

  ‘No,’ she whispered to herself, trying desperately to hold herself back. She was sure now that everything about the day had been planned, even what had happened with Diana, to create an overwhelming need, to test her to the limit.

  Pierre began pumping into her, the tight tube of her rear lubricated by Simone’s saliva. She had never realised that her anus could be as sensitive as her cunt. ‘No, please no,’ she breathed.

  Suddenly Hawksworth’s eyes met hers and everything stood still. For a moment she remained in stasis as he looked at her. Then he nodded, a gesture that had only one interpretation, and she came, her orgasm flooding her, like the water behind a dam. She screamed and shuddered, her anus clamping around the rod of flesh that invaded it. Somewhere in the huge miasma of feeling that shook every inch of her she felt Pierre’s cock jerking too, and was aware of a hot wetness spreading from the centre of her, but her own feelings were too intense to really register it clearly.

  Eventually the feelings ebbed away. She opened her eyes and looked down between her legs. Simone had gobbled Pierre’s wilting cock into her mouth and was busy licking it clean of the last drops of his spunk.

  Across the room Marie-Claire must have come too, because Sophie was delicately plucking off the nipple clips, replacing them with the soothing balm of her tongue. Claudine lay sprawled on the carpet, her services no longer required.

  ‘Bravo; that was quite a show,’ Hawksworth said.

  ‘Glad you enjoyed it,’ Marie-Claire sighed. ‘Why don’t you take one of the girls now?’

  ‘No, no, I’ve got to go. I’ll be back to pick her up next week, so perhaps then...’

  ‘Go?’ Andrea gasped, despite knowing better.

  ‘You know better than that, girl,’ Hawksworth admonished immediately.

  ‘But where are you going?’

  ‘That is none of your business,’ he said sternly.

  ‘You’re not leaving me here.’ Suddenly Andrea felt as if she’d been thrown into a cold shower. All her sexual energy drained away. She’d come to the chateau with her master. Everything she’d done was for him. He couldn’t merely discard her for a whole week!

  Hawksworth got to his feet. ‘Everything is by consent,’ he said.

  ‘I can’t, I can’t,’ she protested, shaking her head. Suddenly the rubber corset and the stockings and the gloves seemed obscene and faintly ridiculous. She didn’t want this. She had done it for her master. Of course she’d been away from him before, but the prospect of a week somewhere in France, hundreds of miles away from him, was something quite different. She would do anything for him and with him, but this was too much to ask.

  ‘Very well.’ He moved to the sofa, took a small key from his pocket and unlocked the handcuffs. Andrea looked up into his eyes, pleading with him, though she wasn’t sure what she wanted him to do.

  He nodded to Marie-Claire, who also got to her feet. The blonde came over to Andrea and helped her off the sofa. Without a word she led her out of the sitting room and along the corridor. She opened a door on the left and guided Andre
a inside.

  ‘Take your clothes off,’ she said, and as soon as Andrea had wriggled out of the rubber clothes Marie-Claire gathered them up and went to the door. She walked out and Andrea heard a key being turned in the lock.

  The room had a small single bed, a straight-backed chair and a mirror. Andrea stared at herself in it. She looked different to herself, but her eyes were unchanged. Despite everything they’d seen in the last few weeks they stared back at her with the same intensity as ever.

  She noticed, as she brushed her hair with her fingers, that her hand was shaking. In the space of a few minutes her whole world had collapsed. The look on her master’s face, the total disinterest he’d displayed, touched her deep inside. She had no idea what Marie-Claire’s training would involve, but she could get through it if at the end of each day she at least had some hope of being taken to her master. She didn’t mind sharing him, or watching him with another woman, but not seeing him at all was just too much to bear.

  Soon the door was unlocked and opened again, and Charles Darrington Hawksworth entered the room. He had a beige dressed folded over his arm. He laid it on the bed next to her. There was also a pair of white cotton panties, a bra and a pair of flat-heeled brown shoes.

  ‘Get dressed,’ he said quietly, walking back to the door.

  ‘Master,’ she said, ‘don’t go.’

  ‘I am no longer your master, Andrea.’

  ‘Don’t say that.’

  ‘I thought you understood.’

  ‘I can’t bear to be without you, master.’

  ‘By refusing to be trained here, that is precisely what you have achieved. If you do not wish to obey me then you will be sent back to London. I will never see you again.’

  ‘No,’ she said.

  ‘Yes. Get dressed. The plane is going back to London in an hour. Your job is waiting for you.’

  Andrea was stunned. Of course what he said was true; she could not expect to go back to the manor and have him take up where they’d left off. All that was over. She sat on the bed, staring forlornly at her knees.

  ‘Such a pity,’ he said, opening the door.

  ‘Don’t go,’ she said.

  ‘I have to.’

  She tried to collect her thoughts. She supposed one day she would have to face the cold reality of her flat and her job again, but the thought of walking into her office on Monday morning was like a slap in the face. She had already begun to speculate about the System and what the master would ask her to do after her ‘training’, but all that appeared to be over too. ‘Please, master.’

  ‘You’ve let me down,’ he said, sadly.

  ‘No, no!’ she shouted determinedly, jumping to her feet. ‘I’ll do it. I’ll stay. Anything. Just tell me I can stay.’

  ‘Of course you can,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, master!’ She threw herself into his arms, a flood of relief overwhelming her.

  ‘Now get on your knees,’ he ordered.

  ‘Yes, master,’ she said, relishing the words again. She didn’t care. She didn’t care what Marie-Claire did to her, she didn’t care how long Hawksworth was away, as long as she could see him again and be his slave. She realised with absolute conviction that that was all she had ever wanted. She knew she should never have tried to assert herself. She was beyond all that. She had no ability to choose any more, no will of her own. She sank to her knees. Now she belonged to him. What he wanted for her was all she wanted for herself.

  ‘You’ll have to be punished,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, master. Punish me.’

  -oOo-

  Also Available

  Follow Andrea’s continuing erotic adventures as she enters The System in Perfect Slave Abroad:

  Marie-Claire rose gracefully. She always wore the same expensive perfume, a musky aroma that was wafted on the air by the movement of her peignoir. She moved behind Andrea and cupped the splendid curves of her buttocks, caressing them softly. Andrea gasped. Yesterday she had been caned twice, morning and evening. As far as she was concerned the cane was a hundred times worse than any whip and it left far worse marks; weals that actually puckered her skin. As Marie-Claire’s hand deliberately stroked against them they tingled. The sensation was not altogether unpleasant.

  Andrea agrees to enter The System. She is chosen by Isabella Sanchez, and at a castle in Spain she soon learns everything there is to know about lesbian sex.

  But the arrival of Isabella’s nephew, Pedro, causes problems. He becomes infatuated with Andrea and kidnaps her. At his house he proves that mastery and domination are family traits.

  Andrea escapes, but is accused of arranging her own disappearance from The System and risks being expelled. Can she set a trap for Pedro and prove that she remains the perfect slave?

  -oOo-

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