Manhattan Kink: A Boxed Set

by Serafina Conti

  “Very good,” said Mistress Ai. “I think it would be best for you to take another scene name for this employment. Let’s call you Mebuta. Do you have a place to live?”

  Pipit reddened, thinking about what she’d done for a place to sleep the night before. “No, Mistress.”

  I have an employee who’s looking for a roommate. Are you interested?

  “Yes, Mistress. Thank you.”

  Ai picked up a cell phone from an end table and tapped in a number. “Neko,” she said, “I believe I have a roommate for you. Are you at home?”

  She listened for a moment, then set the phone down.

  “Neko lives on Thirteenth Street,” she said. “She’s a submissive, like you. I hope you get along; that’s most likely if you pay your bills on time and divide up the household chores equally.”

  “Yes, Mistress,” Pipit said.

  “Do you still have things at Daniel and Karen’s place?”

  “Yes, Mistress. I didn’t take much with me when I left.”

  “I’ll get in touch with them and have your things brought to you. You can go over to Neko’s apartment after lunch. Meanwhile you can stay here. Have a shower and some rest: Inkei will bring you a toothbrush and other toiletries, and some clean underwear.”

  Inkei, the naked slave who had let Pipit into Ai’s apartment, appeared and led her to a bathroom. He got a towel and toothbrush from a tall cabinet on one wall and laid them down next to the sink.

  He said, “The bathrobe hanging on the back of the door is for guests: it’s always clean. The other door leads to a bedroom. You’ll find panties there after your shower, and you can rest there if you like. Just ask if you need anything else.” He withdrew silently.

  Pipit brushed her teeth first—the first time since the man had come in her mouth the night before. Then she spent a long time in the shower. She thought about Mistress Ai, remembering her slender, beautiful body and the colorful dragon tattoo that nearly covered her back and wound its sensuous way over her shoulder. It was beautiful, not vulgar like Famula’s tattoos.

  She’d had sex with Mistress Ai several times when she’d been with Christopher. The first time, when Master had taken them to his dungeon, Ai had sat on a wooden chair, wearing a simple white dress. She’d said nothing, but simply looked at Pipit, who was wearing only a collar and leash, feeling as if some invisible hand was forcing her to her knees to worship a goddess. She prostrated herself, crawled to Mistress Ai, and sat up in front of her like a dog begging for a pat. Ai continued to watch silently, doing nothing, until Pipit picked up the end of her leash and offered it. Ai reached for it, and a charge ran through Pipit as she took it in her hand.

  Then Ai slowly reached down, removed her right shoe, lifted her dainty, naked foot, and put her big toe into Pipit’s open mouth. Sucking Ai’s toe, she felt as happy as she’d ever felt sucking Master’s cock. That was a magical night: Mistress Ai had allowed Pipit to eat her pussy for ever so long and had fucked her vaginally and anally with a strap-on. She stayed for the punishment, too, which was the best ever. They laid her on her stomach, arms lashed to her sides, with an anal hook tied to her braided hair so she had to hold her head up to keep the hook from pulling her ass painfully. She wept and begged forgiveness for what seemed forever before they untied and forgave her. Then Mistress Ai held Pipit’s head in her lap while Master fucked her and gave her one of the best orgasms of her life.

  Thinking about that night and the other nights she’d had with Ai, Pipit longed to be her slave. It would be heaven to be owned by such a Mistress, fucked by her, punished by her!

  She turned the shower off, dried herself, put on the bathrobe, and carried her dress to the bedroom, where she found some panties laid neatly on the bed. She put on the panties and lay down, but sleep wouldn’t come—her memories of Mistress Ai had excited her too much.

  The clock on the bedside table said 11:20. Pipit dressed and went out looking for Mistress Ai, but no one was in the living room or the kitchen. She followed the hallway beyond the bathroom where Inkei had left her and approached a half-open door. She put out her hand to push it open wider, but then saw Inkei near a wall, feet bound together, wrists above his head tied to a hook in the ceiling, so tightly that he had to stand on tiptoe. Mistress Ai was near him with her back to the door; she held a riding crop in one hand and Inkei’s balls in the other. His cock was erect. Pipit had seen a lot of cocks in her time, but this was the biggest—an awesome thing.

  Pipit held very still as Ai gave Inkei’s cock an audible slap with the crop. He winced and said, “Thank you, Mistress.” Then he gasped as Ai squeezed his balls, and said “Thank you, Mistress” again. Pipit watched as Ai tortured Inkei’s cock and balls. She wished she were tied like that, with Mistress Ai spanking her pussy or edging her. She felt herself get damp. She lifted the hem of her dress, pulled her panties aside, and rubbed her clit.

  Mistress Ai gave Inkei’s balls a light blow with the crop, making him cry out. Tears started from his eyes, but he said, “Thank you, Mistress.” Pipit rubbed herself harder as Ai began to jerk him off, spanking his balls with the crop. He was crying, tears flowing freely, until finally he came, cum—so much of it!—gushing from the head of his cock and landing some five feet away on the polished floor.

  Watching Inkei’s cum spurt, Pipit was overwhelmed with envy. Why should he be the one tied up with Mistress Ai making him come? Yes, he had a remarkable cock, but Pipit was remarkable too, and no less deserving than he was.

  She took a step back from the door, but she must have made a little noise as she did, because Ai spun around and looked at her. She was caught with her hand still under her dress.

  “We seem to have a voyeur, Inkei,” said Ai, “or should I say voyeuse.” Inkei turned his head and looked too.

  “I’m sorry, Mistress,” Pipit said. “I was looking for you, and—”

  “And when you found me, you decided to masturbate in my doorway. Instead of Mebuta, let’s call you Tosatsu, which means voyeur. Come here, Tosatsu.”

  Reluctant and hot with shame, Pipit edged into the room.

  “Perhaps I could use a slave after all,” said Mistress Ai, “a part-time slave, just while you’re here in my home. Would you like to be my slave and submit to my discipline?”

  “Yes, Mistress,” said Pipit, hope surging inside her.

  “I have a first task for you, Tosatsu,” said Ai with a smile. “You see, Inkei made quite a mess here. He produces astonishing amounts of semen. Usually I make him clean up after himself, but I’d like you to do it instead—if, that is, you want to be my slave.”

  “Yes, Mistress,” Pipit said, wondering where Ai kept her mops and sponges. She hesitated a few seconds, waiting for instructions.

  “Well, get started, Tosatsu,” said Ai with a hint of impatience in her voice.

  “Mistress, where—”

  “With your mouth, Tosatsu,” said Ai. “Take off your clothes. My slaves don’t wear clothes.”

  Pipit hesitated for just a second; she imagined the humiliation of what Mistress Ai was asking her to do and found it irresistible. She pulled off her dress and pushed down the borrowed panties, trembly and aroused. Inkei’s cum had splattered over a wide area; she got onto her hands and knees at the edge of it and started to lick. The floor was spotless, like everything in Ai’s apartment, but that didn’t lessen her shame. She was getting wet again.

  As Pipit licked, Ai was untying Inkei, saying, “Are you disappointed, Inkei, that I’ve given Tosatsu your job?”

  “Mistress knows best,” he said.

  “You are disappointed, I can tell,” she said. “We’ll watch her clean up, and then I’ll give you a treat when she’s done.”

  The cleanup seemed to take forever. The little puddles of viscous cum—about fifteen of them, Inkei had come so copiously—were hard to clean up. Licking them just pushed them around: the best technique, Pipit discovered, was to lick them into round globs, suck them in, and swallow them. Then she co
uld lick the floor until the slickness of cum gave way to the wetness of saliva.

  Each puddle required perhaps a minute of painstaking sucking and licking before the floor was entirely clean. While she worked, Mistress Ai commented on her slowness, saying “You’re much more efficient than this, Inkei,” and “Tosatsu is certainly taking her time,” and finally “This is far and away my laziest and most dilatory slave.”

  By the time Pipit had licked up the last puddle, she was as humiliated as she’d ever been in her life, and white-hot with resentment for Inkei—it was his cum, after all, and it should have been his job to clean it up, and Mistress Ai had been directing her comments to him.

  Pipit sat up and looked at Ai, who returned her look, expression flat and clinical. The look on her Mistress’s face filled Pipit with fear.

  “I’m sorry—” she began.

  “Inkei needs a rimjob,” Mistress Ai said. “You owe him that for taking his job away. Lie on your back.”

  Pipit didn’t want to rim Inkei, whose pale, hairless body she now found repellent, like a grub, but she was frightened of Mistress Ai, and she longed to obey her. She lay on her back.

  “Inkei,” said Mistress Ai. He straddled Pipit’s head and lowered himself till he was squatting, hairless asshole pressed against her mouth.

  “Lick him,” said Mistress Ai, and Pipit put her tongue out and wetted him.

  “In every group of people, big or small,” said Ai, “there is always a hierarchy. You may masturbate.”

  Pipit put her hand on her pussy and rubbed herself, ashamed that she needed to do it.

  “Everyone has a unique place in the hierarchy. No two people ever have the same rank; there are no equals. Someone must always be on top,” Ai continued, “and someone on the bottom. The person on the bottom gets the kicks and the insults, licks the cum off the floor, and kisses the asses. You are on the bottom today, below my slave Inkei, and you’ll be there, kissing ass, whenever you serve me in my home.”

  Pipit squirmed on the floor as she rubbed her clit; she slurped and sucked Inkei’s anus as he jerked off above. Her anger was dissolving in shame and arousal.

  “But remember,” said Ai, “that it’s always possible to sink lower. I know not only what you did, but also what you were thinking as you were watching us. If I ever catch you thinking such things again, I’ll see that you sink lower than you ever thought possible.”

  Pipit groaned and kissed Inkei’s ass wetly. She was beginning to love him.

  “You may come in Tosatsu’s mouth,” said Ai. Inkei raised himself a little, Pipit obediently opened her mouth, and he put the head of his cock into her. She closed her lips around him, and he jerked off a few times and came, cock throbbing as his cum gushed into her. Surely he came no less than he had just a few minutes before.

  “Swallow Inkei’s semen,” said Ai, “and when you understand how far beneath him you are, you may have your orgasm.”

  Pipit forced down Inkei’s cum with one huge gulp and thought of what she was—cum sucker, ass licker, the scummy girl who lay on the floor masturbating while Ai and Inkei looked on impassively. Overcome with self-loathing, fingers in her slimy gash, she came and came, weeping and choking, “I’m sorry, Mistress Ai! I’m sorry, Inkei!”

  She lay spent on the floor, eyes closed. She didn’t want to see the looks on their faces. She didn’t want them to look at her, either: she was ugly, a monster.

  Something soft and warm touched her cheek. She opened her eyes and saw Ai kneeling beside her, hand extended, petting her.

  “You should take pride in your place in the hierarchy,” said Ai softly. “It’s just as honorable to be on the bottom as it is to be on top. Always remember, when we who are superior despise and humiliate you, that we do it lovingly.”

  “Mistress?” Pipit said.

  “Yes, Tosatsu?”

  “May I have another shower?”

  “Of course. And then we’ll have lunch, and you’ll go introduce yourself to Neko.”

  * * *

  The girl gave Pipit a shy smile and said, “I’m Neko.”

  Neko was small, plain, and mousy, and her voice was thin and reedy. Her manner was timid and cringing, as if she expected Pipit to hit her. In fact, Pipit did want to hit her—Neko had that effect on people. Pipit decided that if there was going to be a household hierarchy, Neko would surely be on the bottom.

  Pipit forced herself to smile and said, “I’m Pipit, but Mistress Ai has decided to call me Tosatsu.”

  Neko smiled and said, “Mistress is ingenious with names. Neko means cat in Japanese.”

  Pipit said, “Tosatsu means voyeur. I’m not sure I like it.”

  “Shall I call you Pipit, then?”

  “Thanks, I’d like that.”

  “I’ll show you around.”

  The apartment was plain and clean with no more than the requisite amount of practical furniture. All the rooms—living room, kitchen, two bedrooms and a single bath—were small but not quite cramped. Pipit was surprised to notice that Neko’s bedroom had a St. Andrew’s cross in it.

  The bed in the other bedroom was already made up. Neko said, “Would you like to rest? If your job interview was anything like mine, you’re probably pretty tired. I usually eat at six—I have enough food for two—and then we have to be at work at eight.”

  “Thanks, I’d like to rest,” said Pipit. She was tired: after her strenuous night and morning, she had helped Inkei fix lunch, eaten hers from a dog bowl, and cleaned up afterwards. Mistress Ai had rewarded her with one heavenly kiss. She entered the room and closed the door. She lay on the bed, and instantly fell into a sound sleep.

  Chapter 3. Pro sub

  Pipit went to the kitchen after her nap, thinking to help out, only to find that Neko’s idea of cooking was to put two frozen dinners in the microwave. It would have to do for tonight.

  Neko said, “I’m really relieved to finally have a roommate. The money’s good, working for Mistress Ai, but this city’s like so expensive.”

  Pipit said, “I’m relieved to have a job and a place to live. I hope we get along well.”

  “I know we will,” said Neko brightly.

  “How do you like working for Mistress Ai?” Pipit asked.

  “I love it,” Neko said. “I’m a huge masochist, and I love the intensity of like three Dominants wanting to whip me in one night.”

  “I’ve never had more than one Master at a time,” said Pipit. “It sounds strange.”

  “I guess,” said Neko. “I’ve never had a Master—not for more than an hour or two at a time.”

  “Is it strange,” Pipit asked, “never having sex with your tops? With my Masters, I’ve never had to worry about where play ended and sex began.”

  “Yeah,” said Neko. “It’s the downside of being a pro sub. In most scenes you’re doing things that feel like they ought to end with sex, but they don’t. It’s like getting on a train for Boston, but they make you get off in Providence.” She wrinkled her nose. “You come home frustrated a lot of nights.”

  Pipit guessed she’d be masturbating a lot. She wondered what feelings she’d have when she did.

  They left together for Mistress Shigemi’s House of Kink, which proved to be a discreetly marked doorway on 23rd Street. A stair led up to a large space with a sex shop in front. Neko led Pipit to an office behind the sex shop and introduced her to the manager, Mistress Kathy, who gave her a tour of the facility. There were five playrooms in various colors and styles: a dark dungeon with stone walls, an oversize medical examination room, a lounge with velvet chairs and bondage table, a warehouse interior with rough-hewn posts and beams, and a pet shop with cages. There were crosses, whipping horses, and other equipment in all the rooms. There were racks of whips, canes, and leashes, and an air of menace everywhere. Pipit counted three scenes going on in the rooms, and in one room there was a private party of about a dozen people.

  Hidden from the clients’ view, there was a small lounge where the employe
es could hang out when they weren’t seeing clients. There was no BDSM equipment here, but comfortable chairs and sofas, a wide-screen TV, and tables on which were stacked magazines, laptop computers, and cell phones, along with soda cans and half-full cigarette packs. A hard, middle-aged Domme wearing a black corset and fishnet stockings was relaxing on a sofa.

  Kathy said, “Tosatsu, this is Mistress Raquel.”

  Raquel sat up and looked at her hungrily. “Kathy probably told you the boring rule about sex with the clients,” she said.

  Pipit said, “Mistress Ai told me.”

  “Well,” said Raquel, “there’s no rule against the pro Dommes fucking the pro subs.”

  “Behave yourself, Raquel,” said Kathy. “Come with me, Tosatsu.” Kathy led Pipit to her office. She said, “We’ll have a little profile of you up on our website by tomorrow, and shortly afterwards clients will start to call about you or come in looking for you. I’d like you to keep regular hours till you get a little clientele—you know, people who come just for you—and then you can start working by appointment only, during hours you choose.

  “How long does it usually take to get a clientele?” Pipit asked.

  “It varies, depending on how good the Domme or sub is. Some always struggle. Your friend Neko, on the other hand, was a superstar the instant she set foot in this place. She has all the work she can handle.”

  That surprised Pipit. She would have expected the mousy Neko to spend most of her time twiddling her thumbs. She asked, “What makes a sub like Neko so popular?”

  “It’s hard to say exactly,” Kathy said. “There’s got to be an element of magic in it; otherwise anyone could do it. But what I see when I watch Neko with a Dominant is absolute conviction. When she gets caned, she seems to be in the worst possible agony and at the same time to be experiencing the greatest possible pleasure. If a Dominant is insulting her, she looks like she wants to die of humiliation and like she’s going to come any second. Make her eat from a dog bowl and she looks like she can hardly bear to do it, and yet it’s the best meal of her life. She looks like she spends almost all her time in subspace. The important part of it, of course, is how it makes the client feel. You come away from playing with her feeling immensely powerful and infinitely understanding and wise, like the world’s greatest Dominant. It sounds overblown, but I’ve played with her, and it’s true. It’s a rare talent to make another person feel that way.”