Manhattan Kink: A Boxed Set

by Serafina Conti

  She buried her face in her hands and couldn’t speak for a minute. I rubbed her back.

  “And then a couple days later she was just there.” She put her head down in her arms, and her shoulders shook.

  “Oh, Emily,” she said, “What am I going to do?”

  “I don’t know, sweetie,” I said. “We’ll figure something out.”

  The front door opened, and I ran to present myself to Master. He embraced and kissed me, but he must have sensed the tension in me, because he said, “What’s the matter?”

  “Amanda’s here,” I said. “They threw her out.”

  He frowned. “I didn’t give you permission to bring her here,” he said.

  “She just showed up. I found her on the front stoop. I couldn’t send her away—she’s got no place to go.”

  “What’ll we do with her?”

  “Can’t we put her up for a few days, Master? I’ll take care of her. She won’t be any trouble.”

  “I suppose we’ll have to. Make it clear to her that she’s not a slave or sub here. Feed her in the kitchen and give her the third-floor bedroom. Taking care of her will be in addition to your other responsibilities. Do not have sex with her without my permission. And keep her out of my way.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Now bring me a drink.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  I told Amanda what Master had said while I made his drink. “Stay in the kitchen for now. I’ll show you your room later, and then you’d better just stay there except when I tell you it’s all right to come out.”

  “Thank you, Emily,” she said meekly.

  “Everything’s going to be all right, honey,” I said, and gave her a pat. It occurred to me that I was trying out pet names for her. Without a contract or any acknowledgment of it, she was becoming my sub and my responsibility, and there wasn’t a thing either Master or I could do about it.

  I took Master his drink, and he retreated to his study while I made dinner. I set a plate for Amanda at the kitchen bar and went to get Master. When I returned to the kitchen, she was sitting on the floor with her plate. I was glad to see she was using a knife and fork.

  As Master ate and fed me, he told me he’d called Frederick. “He went with Pipit to dinner at Daniel and Karen’s place, and a couple days later she just disappeared,” he said. “The next day Daniel visited him in his office, told him that Karen wanted to take on Pipit as a slave, and gave him a check for fifty thousand dollars. He sounded pretty devastated.”

  “Amanda said Pipit was Karen’s toilet slave,” I said.

  “I don’t have to tell you that Daniel and Karen are immensely wealthy,” Master said. “You’ve seen their place. Frankly, it doesn’t surprise me if Pipit was drawn to that kind of wealth, or if it induced her to do things she’d normally find repugnant. But I wouldn’t have thought her the kind to break a contract.”

  After dinner I took Amanda to the third-floor room, gave her some of my clothes, and told her to stay there till I came to get her in the morning. Master and I played in the dungeon, and I spent the night in my cage.

  The next morning, as I was with Master at breakfast, I said, “Master?”

  “Yes, Emily?”

  “Would you think about allowing Amanda to stay with us? I don’t think she has any other friends.”

  “Surely Daniel and Karen will provide for her somehow. They’ll give her a place to stay. It’s the only decent thing to do.”

  “She can’t live alone, Master. She can’t take care of herself. She’d get into a frenzy and do all kinds of risky things. She’s done it before. She could get sick and die. She’ll eat anything.”

  He studied me. “It would be complicated. She obviously looks at you as her Dominant. How can you have a sub if you’re a slave yourself?”

  “I don’t know, Master. I haven’t thought it all through. But you like her, don’t you, Master? Maybe we could try it on a trial basis. Just a few days at a time. I think you’d like playing with her.”

  “She’s a sweet girl,” he said thoughtfully, “despite her kinks, which are rather off-putting. You’re probably right that she can’t take care of herself. I’ll think about it.”

  I jumped up and gave him a hug. “Thank you, Master.”

  After he’d left for work, I went to get Amanda and fed her breakfast. That morning, a courier brought a box for her. It contained her clothing (she had little, and it was all black), a bottle of the mouthwash she used, a vial of pills with a label showing the name of the kink-friendly physician who’d prescribed them, and a few other things.

  We weren’t allowed to have sex together, but Amanda was able to help with my chores—she was more useful this time—and we got them done quickly. Then we lounged and chatted for much of the afternoon.

  When we heard the front door open, Amanda retreated to the kitchen and I went to greet Master. He said, “Bring Mouche to the living room.”

  I brought her to him. She looked frightened.

  He said, “Mouche, Emily has asked me if you can stay here for a while. Would you like that?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said.

  “You would have to be a slave here. Are you willing to be my slave?”

  “I’d like to be your slave, sir,” she said, glancing at me.

  He drew a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “Look this over. It’s a one-week slave contract. If it’s agreeable to you, we can sign, and you’ll enter my service immediately. We can renew for a longer term if it’s agreeable to both of us.”

  I looked over it with her. She’d be Master’s slave, but I’d be her overseer. Master would have all the rights that Masters usually have over slaves. The contract gave Master the right to lend her for play and sex with others and gave her no power to object. There were no limits written into the contract, but there were spaces to add them at the end, and she requested a few. She asked for a pen and signed, and master signed too.

  At dinner, Master made Amanda take her clothes off and eat from a dog bowl while I wore clothes, knelt beside him, and was fed tidbits from his plate. I guessed that he was signaling that her status in the household was lower than mine. It made me uncomfortable, though I knew it was true.

  That night, after dinner, Master again made Amanda and me play and have sex while he watched. After Amanda had been sent upstairs to bed, he made love to me in his bed before sending me to my cage for the night. I lay awake a long time and worried about whether our reconfigured family could be made to work, and what would happen to Amanda if it couldn’t.

  After Master left for work the next morning, I checked my email and found three interesting messages. This was the first:

  Dear Emily,

  On second thought, I think it would be a mistake for us to try to stay in touch. Seeing you yesterday confirmed what I figured out a long time ago: that you were right about everything, and I fucked up badly when I let you go. I don’t want to be the melancholy ex who never got over it but keeps hanging around—a sad stereotype from a bad sitcom.

  Don’t write back. I just wanted you to know so you wouldn’t think I was being rude.

  Andrew

  I was tempted to write back anyway, but decided on second thought that it would be kinder not to. This was the second email:

  Dear Emily,

  If you’re feeling Schadenfreude now, I can’t blame you. I believed I was justified in what I did because I thought I understood love and knew you and Pipit. But it turns out I didn’t know anything at all. If I were in your place, I don’t think I could forgive, so I won’t ask for forgiveness. But I thought I’d apologize anyway.

  Yours ever,

  Frederick

  His distress didn’t make me happy, but I wasn’t ready to forgive him yet either. I couldn’t think of anything to say to him, so I didn’t write back. This was the third email:

  Famula,

  Are you free for lunch today? If so, please come to my apartment at noon. I have already secured permission fr
om your Master. Mouche is also welcome.

  Ai

  Her address, not far away in the Village, was in the signature line. I wrote back to say I’d be delighted to come to lunch and Amanda would come with me.

  The man who answered Ai’s door wore a collar. He was young, well built, and—strangely, despite being naked and completely hairless—dignified. He smiled warmly and showed us into the simple and elegantly furnished apartment. Ai rose gracefully from a sofa as we entered. She was wearing a lovely black dress with a floral pattern. Her presence was as powerful as it had been two nights ago: I glanced at Amanda, who was staring at her with a glazed look.

  Ai showed us to a table with three place mats. The slave brought us soup and stood by as we began to eat. I couldn’t help stealing glances at his trim, strong body. “Your slave is very impressive,” I said.

  Ai said, “Thank you. He’s quite accomplished. In the Beauty novels, the male slaves are required to maintain erections at all times, but of course that’s a fantasy. It can’t be done. But I require my male slaves to become erect on demand. Inkei?”

  The slave stepped close to the table and stared at Ai. Amanda and I watched, fascinated, as his cock slowly grew and lifted till it was standing straight out.

  “It’s really big,” Amanda whispered.

  Ai said, “Yes, this is the biggest one I own. Thank you, Inkei. I’ll reward you later.”

  He smiled and left the room.

  “Do you have many slaves, Mistress?” I asked.

  “Five at present,” she said. “Four men and one woman. But Inkei is the only one living in right now.”

  I tried to imagine having five lovers at my beck and call, but couldn’t. “Why so many?” I asked, and then quickly added, “I hope it’s not rude to ask.”

  “Not at all,” she said. “Part of it is simply that so many submissives are available. You may not know this, because you’ve been fortunate, but true Dominants are quite rare. Most of the men claiming to be Dominants are frauds, and most of the women are prostitutes. Submissives, both men and women, are much more numerous, so it’s easy for a true Dominant to acquire a number of them—and a service to the community as well.”

  Inkei brought out bowls of rice for us. His erection had mostly subsided.

  “And then,” Ai continued, “different slaves have different attributes and abilities. Inkei has an exceptionally large member, as Mouche noticed: it feels delicious in me. I have a cunnilingus expert: he’s highly skilled and content to do it for hours on end—with short breaks. I’ve trained one as a masseur; another has an insatiable appetite for my excreta. I like men best, but I always have to have at least one woman on hand, because the female body delights me so.”

  “Do they stay long?” I asked. Inkei brought plates with small portions of fish and a tasty-looking vegetable that I couldn’t identify.

  “All of my contracts run for one year,” Ai said. She reached out, took Inkei’s cock in her hand, and stroked it gently. He stood still and closed his eyes. “Normally I don’t renew. I help my slaves find Dominants or owners, and mostly I’m able to leave them well matched. However, I’m so very fond of Inkei that I’m thinking of renewing him for another year.”

  He’d become fully erect again.

  I said, “Don’t you ever wish for more permanent relationships?”

  “One must distinguish among the important things in life,” she said. “Sex is one thing, play is another, and warm and deep relationships are a third. It’s perfectly all right to find these things in different places. Of course, they’re not mutually exclusive. I have many friends, and I play and have sex with several of them. I maintain warm friendships with a number of former slaves.” She looked directly at me and said, “I take my friendships very seriously.” My heart beat a little faster.

  Mistress Ai let go of Inkei’s cock, and he collected our dishes.

  When the table was bare, Ai said to me, “How do you feel about our play the other night, Famula?”

  “It was intense, Mistress. I liked it.”

  “Your Master shared you with three people. How did you feel about that?”

  “I had mixed feelings, Mistress. I liked you, but I felt as if I’d chosen you—even though I understand now that I didn’t really.”

  “You did, really, and I chose you. But you didn’t like having sex with the others?”

  “Master hadn’t let me have an orgasm all day, Mistress, and I was too aroused to object, but I kept feeling stabs of shame. And I had a terrible nightmare that night, about being gang raped. I don’t want to be in that position again.”

  “Yes, I can see that. There’s a world of difference between taking lovers” (she smiled at Amanda) “and being given to strangers.”

  “Master promised he wouldn’t ask me to do it very often. And our contract gives me the right to refuse to be lent.”

  “I’m sure he meant that when he said it,” Ai said, “but he’s a voyeur, as all his friends know. Why don’t you know this? Did you vet him?”

  “He gave me some names and phone numbers,” I said, feeling a little ashamed, “but I didn’t follow up.”

  “You were careless,” she said, “and took an unnecessary risk. I don’t think you’re in danger of physical harm with Christopher, but you’re still in danger. He managed to keep himself in check for a long time, but now that you’ve allowed him to share you once, he’ll exert a good bit of pressure to make you do it again. You can’t suppress your kinks for long.”

  “He’s making Amanda and me play and make love while he watches,” I said, putting one hand on Amanda’s. “It makes me a little uncomfortable.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” Ai asked.

  “I don’t know, Mistress,” I said.

  “It’s disturbing,” Ai said. “Everyone is mismatched now. Pipit was an excellent slave for Christopher. She’s enthusiastically poly, and that agreed with him very well. But she’s not a toilet slave, which is what Karen needs. You were good for Frederick, and the two of you shared a love of impact play. Mouche was right for Karen and Daniel, and they could deliver the kind of care she needs. It would be best all around if everyone just went back to where they were in December, though I don’t suppose that’s likely.”

  “I love Master,” I said. “I’d really like to make things work with him.”

  “Christopher is a dear, sweet man,” she said, “and a caring Master, but he needs a promiscuous woman. I don’t say that critically; it’s just the way he is. But he’s going to try to make you into something you don’t want to be. Again I’ll ask, what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know, Mistress.”

  “May I make a suggestion?”

  “Please, Mistress.”

  “Simply tell him that you will no longer agree to be lent or shared. Tell him also that you’ll no longer have sex with Mouche at his direction because you consider that to be lending.”

  Amanda whined a little.

  “Don’t worry,” said Ai. “It will all come out right.”

  “But what if he objects?” I said.

  “If he objects,” she said, “then either you’ll negotiate a more satisfactory agreement or terminate your contract. If he doesn’t object, your problem is largely solved. Then you have only to negotiate a clause allowing you to have Mouche as a lover. If the worst happens, I’m confident we can find an excellent match for you.”

  “It’s scary,” I said.

  She said, “The alternative is to become the woman he wants to make you into. I don’t believe you want to be that woman.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “But can I ask you one more question?”

  “Certainly,” she said.

  “I believe your advice is sincere, but I don’t know why you’re bothering to give it to me. You hardly know me. Why are you taking such an interest in me?”

  “I’d like to be your friend,” she said. “I want the best for you—and Christopher as well. Now, would you l
ike to play? I thought we might have some fun with wax.”

  “Ooh!” Amanda said, and clapped her hands.

  Ai’s playroom contained several hooks in the ceiling, a low padded table, a chair, a cabinet, and Inkei, who stood against a wall awaiting instructions.

  “Let’s all get naked,” said Ai. We undressed, and Inkei collected our clothing, carried it away, and returned a few seconds later. Amanda stared at Ai’s dragon tattoo.

  “Let’s see,” said Ai. “Mouche, you lie on the table. Inkei will oil your body. He’s not my massage slave, but he’s very good.”

  Amanda lay on her stomach, and Inkei smoothed oil all over her—neck, back, buttocks, legs. Then she turned over, and he did the same for her front, not sparing her breasts and mound. She sighed, and his cock was fully erect by the time he was done.

  “Inkei likes you, Mouche,” said Ai. “There’s plenty of him to go around, if you’d like him to service you later.”

  Amanda made her mewing noise.

  Ai dimmed the overhead lighting and lit three large candles—red, yellow, and blue. She said, “Famula, Inkei has prepared your canvas. Try making some art.”

  “What do I need to know?” I asked.

  “Just start by holding the candle a couple of feet above the skin, and avoid the face,” Ai said.

  I picked up the red candle, tapped a spot between Amanda’s breasts, and said, “I’m going to aim for right here.” I held up the candle as Ai had instructed, tilted it, and a drop fell near where I was aiming. “Oh,” she sighed.

  “Does it hurt?” I asked.

  “A little,” she said. “It’s nice.”

  “It’s pretty when it makes streaks on the breasts,” said Ai helpfully.

  I tried dripping the wax on Amanda’s breasts. With a little practice I could make the wax run down in lovely rivulets. I covered both breasts entirely with wax, alternating colors for an attractive effect. I moved from breasts to stomach (“Avoid the navel,” Ai advised, “it’s hard to clean out”). I worked up one thigh and then the other.

  “Is your pussy ready, baby?” I said.