The contract was nothing like I expected. Keefe Murdoch’s name was never mentioned; instead, it legally bound me to this Mansion Slaves Corporation. Seventeen names were listed as principles of the corporation, but I recognized only one. The one listed first, Gail Frouchette, CEO. Why did that name sound so familiar to me?
Twelve pages filled with incredible detail of what would happen to my possessions while I served and what allowances I would be given for work, my other life. Some aspects were simply exciting, but some were unbelievably mind-blowing. My condo would be purchased by Murdoch Industries for a 50 percent profit on what I paid for it. My possessions would be put in storage with the key accessible to me only when my contract terminated in two years. This meant sadly, I would not be allowed to have any of my things here at The Mansion, and this included my roadster, which would be garaged for the two years.
My BDSM no list was listed in its entirety on the contract stipulating none of it would be inflicted on me. Amazingly, the contract provided for a $500,000 payout from Mansion Slaves Corporation to me at the termination of the contract. Smaller payouts were stipulated if I left earlier with the MSC’s permission. Why MSC, why not my Master’s permission, he was after all in charge of this MSC, wasn’t he?
Work conditions were unsatisfactory, to my dominant side, as not only must I be transported to and from work, but I would only be allowed six hours a day there. My office was, as I had suspected last night, over an hour from The Mansion, so the commute time was coming out of my allowed work time. There was a stipulation that allowed me to ask my Master, or my novice trainer, for more time, but I must have their permission beforehand to stay later. My dominant side felt cheated and angry, and I again looked at the mirrored walls. Seeing my red light still lit, I noticed violet light blinking slowly. I must remember to ask about work, and these collar lights.
Before setting the contract back down on the table, I got my dominant self under control, letting the roadster issue go. Indulging my corporate side, I would only press for concessions on the work issue if it seemed a winnable point with my Master. However, I would let my submission guide me, as nothing in this contract was a major bone of contention for the slave in me. Setting the contract on the table, I looked at my Master, letting him know I was done reading.
“All done, Jennifer? Any issues to discuss?” His voice was kind, encouraging, and his eyes looked proud of me.
“Yes, Master, I have a few questions. First, th—”
He raised his hand to stop me, and I wondered why?
“I hereby grant permission for a full meeting of all principles of Mansion Slave Corporation.” Reaching down to Gail, he removed her ball gag and nipple chain. “My dear, it is time to run your meeting of your company. You have the floor.”
Gail stood up, naked, with her nipples sore and red. She smiled at me and spoke. “What are your concerns, Jennifer?” Almost instantaneously, she had gone from slave to businesswoman, exciting me tremendously.
Stunned, I could not believe what I had seen, my Master turning the floor over to his first slave. Was he not the supreme authority here? “Well, I. . .er. . .I wondered about this MSC, is it real?” I felt like a fool talking to Gail. Why had Master yielded the floor to her? Was I not worthy to discuss things with my Master?
“MSC is a real corporation, owned by all seventeen of us, and you, once you sign the contract. MSC has over six hundred million dollars in assets.” She rattled it off in an uninspired tone, as if being CEO of a multimillion dollar corporation meant nothing to her.
“And our Master is not a principle of MSC, and does not control the corporation?” It was a pure guess on my part, but it seemed true.
“Correct, but not the whole story. Our Master initially chose you, through me, as you well know, but the reason you sit here, in The Mansion, is that we approved of your taking. A slave may not enter The Mansion without our approval, and we will be voting again in a few moments to approve your membership. A slave may only be removed from The Mansion with our approval. Our Master does not control the corporation, but he has complete control of its principles, who, as they own The Mansion, approve its budget and whatnot, exercise some limited control over him. I assure you it is a complicated, but appealing, relationship for slaves.”
It was all logical, intelligent, but Gail’s answer stood my world on its head. In a very real way, I was frightened that I had to please these other slave girls, rather than just my Master. Looking around, I realized these faceless slaves would vote on my admission to MSC and The Mansion. In the mirrors, I saw my red light still on, but now my green light blinked slowly.
“What about these lights, on my collar, what do they mean?” My eyes pleaded with Gail to solve this little mystery for me.
“Your question cannot be answered. This is something novices must learn by themselves. Any more concerns, Jennifer?”
Everything else just faded away, insignificant compared to my worry about my membership to MSC being put to a vote right here, right now. Shaking my head, I replied. “No, Gail, please go ahead and vote on this slave.” I had in no way expected this, the idea it could all be over so suddenly, if the vote of people I did not know did not go my way. A look at the damn mirrors showed me a frantically blinking green light on my collar.
“As CEO of Mansion Slaves Corporation, I call for a vote, in the manner prescribed by corporate bylaws on the membership and granting of partnership to Jennifer Campbell. Please vote now all members.”
The very instant Gail stopped speaking, legs went into action. Sixteen pairs of legs thrust upwards, as best they could under their conditions. All the slave girls bounced on their impaled dildos fucking themselves as energetically as possible. Gail’s fingers flew to her pussy, and began to frig her hole with wild abandon.
Seated and impaled myself, I became aroused at the lusty display, feeling my temperature rise as I heard the breathy sounds of their air tubes, and the muffled moans from under the rubber masks. One by one, red lights went on, eventually blinking strobe-like on every collar. Faceless girls began to quiver, shake, and spasm, as one by one, they succumbed to orgasm. Then it struck me, red light, orgasm, sexual arousal. The red light showed slave’s level of sexual arousal. Two down, three to learn.
Watching Gail grip the table for support during her climax, I fully approved of corporate bylaws for voting. Steadying herself, she spoke, her red light blinking slowly as her yellow one eclipsed it. “By a vote of seventeen to none, a new slave has been approved to sign her contract in the manner accepted.”
“In the manner accepted.” I wondered what that meant. Sated, their red lights had gone out, but mine was still blinking, more rapidly than before. Before I could think more, my Master spoke.
“Stand, slave. The dildo in the inkpot is the quill you will use to sign your contract. It has been embossed on the base with your signature. You will expose the back page of the contract for your signature line. Then you will get up onto the table, and force the dildo up your bottom hole. When it is deeply impaled, you will squat over the contract and stamp your signature, with your bottom, on the signature line. Gail will assist you in aiming the stamp, and she has permission to give you orgasm. Proceed.”
Gail strode down the table to my end. She helped me climb up on the table and position myself to squat on the massive phallic stamp. Gail licked her fingers and opened up my crinkled hole with some helpful saliva. It would be essential to be well lubricated, as the monster cock pen was thick and would open my rear hole to the maximum degree. Gail held my hands as I lowered myself down onto the signature tool. When I was fully shafted, I had that tree-trunk-in-my-butt feeling of deep anal penetration.
“Now lift it out of the inkpot, Jen, and I’ll help you aim it. When you get it out, shake your ass lightly to get rid of the excess ink. After all, you don’t want an ink stained contract do you?” She laughed and pressed up against me as I lifted the quill cock out of the pot.
Smelling her close again, it
was nearly too much for me. I wanted to dissolve into a tonguing sixty-nine with her, to get reacquainted, but I had work, slave work, to do. Shaking my booty, I watched tiny ink droplets fall to the table, and knew they must wash off easily, because this clearly had been done before by many slaves on this table. Watching Gail position the contract underneath my bottom, I felt her breasts against mine and looked in the mirrors to see red and yellow lights alive on my collar.
With the contract in the right spot, Gail grabbed hold of the pen cock, just under the stamp, and she bent the rubber shaft slightly to align it with the signature line. Then, delighting me, she let her other hand drop to my spread cleft, slipping deep inside with three fingers. Her lips against my neck, she kissed me there and whispered softly just to me. “Drop the stamp, slave, and begin your journey to be my pair mate, now.”
Somewhat surprised by Gail’s mistress-like tone, I obeyed, setting my thigh and calf muscles to work lowering the stamp shaft to its destination. Driven close to my climax by the slippery frigging of her sweet fingers, I nearly lost concentration on my task. Feeling stamp meet paper, I did not stop there, as to propel myself deeper into my slavery by pushing the phallus deeper into my rectum.
“That’s it, slave. Fuck yourself deep in your slut ass, just like my pair mate would do.” Gail’s voice was raw, but commanding. She knew I needed what I was doing.
With the shaft driven deeper in my bowels than anything had ever been before, I came on Gail’s fingers. Crying out for my slave sisters to hear, I watched red and yellow strobe on my collar.
My signature was not perfect, slightly low on the left, but it would serve, as I would. Master smiled at us as he helped us down from the tabletop. “I think the new novice needs to meet her sister slaves. Teach her the unmasking process, Gail.”
Chapter 4: Meeting My Sisters
With Master sitting at the head, Gail positioned me behind the slave girl to his left. “Watch while I unmask her pair, and then do as I did to this one. Then we will move down the table unmasking them all, pair by pair, and having them introduce themselves to you. They will not use your name, you will be just slave, until you complete novice training.” Gail walked behind our Master to the girl on his right and reached to her neck grabbing the bottom edge of her rubber mask tightly.
As I had suspected, the masks were form fitted to the wearer’s face, as Gail pulled forward first, jerking the girl’s head somewhat, and then up. Jerking the girl’s mask off, she revealed a sweaty, but happy, face. Sienna-haired and tanned of skin, the girl had gray eyes, which looked at me, but she said nothing. She wore sunshine-yellow nylon, striped with black, while her pair mate in front of me had stripes of dark green.
Doing as I had seen, I pulled the rubber head prison off her pair and revealed a delicious treat. Shaggy-cut, platinum-blonde with pronounced D cups, not enhanced, this girl had perfect alabaster skin and bright green eyes. This place will make me a lesbian with all the fleshy treats available. The girl looked at me, a twinkle in her eye, and spoke. “Welcome, slave, this slave apologizes for Alicia. She is not good with new slaves, but we welcome you to help serve our Master. This slave is called Angel, pair to Alicia, the silent one, and you must visit, we simply must taste you.” Angel shot a quick glance at her pair, and Alicia responded.
“Yes, sorry, novice, please do come to our room; we taste everyone.” Alicia sounded childlike as if she were an innocent schoolgirl, not a sex slave.
Looking at Gail for direction, I was surprised at what she said.
“It’s up to you; they do taste everyone, but you may wish to complete novice first before building relationships outside your pair. Come, the others are waiting to be unmasked.”
We proceeded slowly down the long meeting table in the process of pulling the rubber hoods off our sister slaves. They were all lovely young women, rivaling my own beauty, but I remained desirous of only two people here: our Master and Gail.
Imagining how awful stuffy these masks were to wear. I wondered when my face would be fitted for one. When would the next contract signing be; when I would have to wear it? Then I thought, perhaps I already have been fitted; after all I was dressed in the perfectly fitted cat suit while I slept. A mold of my face might also have been done at that time.
Besides Angel and her Alicia, a few girls stood out to me. Most notably, the two white-clad novices who had sat near me at the far end. I would train with them, and they were apparently destined, barring unforeseen events, to be paired.
The first, Petra , spoke to me in a decidedly Eastern European accent, and she, more than any or the others, made me think of Donna. “Good to meet you, novice, we will have exciting times together, no?” Tall with blue eyes, blonde hair, slightly smaller breasts than Donna, Petra sported thin, brown nipples instead of the rosy ones my office assistant had.
“Yes, Petra , this slave will enjoy your company.” More than you could possibly know.
Petra’s future pair mate was Clarissa, a shorter brunette with a decidedly pale complexion, and pert A cups. Visually, Petra and Clarissa made an odd pair, but if they liked each other, that mattered not at all.
Just before we unmasked Petra and Clarissa, I had watched Gail yank the hood off me. Feeling like I was looking in a mirror, this girl had my long, raven tresses flowing down her back. A darker than mine, her skin hovered between deep tan and brown, but I detected no facial ethnicity to her. With full lips and the high-cheek-boned look of a top model, she made me jealous. Trying to suppress my feelings, I saw my green and violet lights go on. Was one of them linked to jealousy?
“This slave is Amelia. She has no use for novices, so be about your business.” Amelia raised her pointed chin at me, giving me an aloof look, before she thrust out her larger breasts, showing of the fat, brown nipples she could have stolen from me. Amelia’s breasts were indeed lovely, shaking at her slightest movement with a shimmering liquidity. “These are not for you, novice, they are for Master, and my pair Selina.” As I unmasked the chestnut-haired Selina, I noticed she too had an aloof, haughty attitude toward me. Best stay away from these two.
Returning to my seat, I slipped the twin shafts back into my holes and eased myself to full penetration. Glancing ahead, I felt rewarded by the sight of my red and yellow collar lights blinking softly.
“Is there more business of your company to conduct, or shall we adjourn at this juncture?” My Master spoke to Gail, in a gentle, almost permission-seeking tone. It was still hard for me to wrap my head around the idea that as far as MSC matters went, our Master was powerless.
However, Gail seemed unsurprised by the question, as she moved in front of Master’s chair, to the head of the table to address us. Such a bold move did not become a slave, but as CEO of MSC, she was not his slave.
A hand snaked out from behind her before she spoke, and it cupped her left breast, rubbing it. Master was going to play with our CEO’s body, while she conducted her meeting.
“Are there any new business or requests from among the membership? We have two other novices being taken sometime this coming week, so all five will make a nice training class.”
Selina spoke up, clad in her forest-green nylon, and sounding annoyed. Ignoring Gail, she addressed Master directly. “Master, are we not going to have a Two for the New today for this novice? Is that not called for?” Her violet light started blinking while she spoke, giving me another connection.
Anger; she’s angry; violet is anger. Three down, two to go.
Master ignored her, as it was apparently an MSC matter, and simply slipped his other hand around Gail’s waist. Finding her shaved slit quickly, he pushed two fingers in and began to casually finger fuck our CEO.
“W . . .we have already be . . . en over this, Selina. Ohhh. We are combining the five ceremonies together. Aaany thing else?” Gail looked at us all as if she were praying nobody would say anything, allowing her to enjoy Master’s touch. There was silence, as we all understood her need without the pulsing red light on
her collar.
“I adjourn . . .” It took all her concentration to get the words out before she collapsed backwards onto Master to quiver into another climax.
Starting to stand because I thought we were done, I stopped, remaining in my seat, as I noticed no one else rose. Of course, their wrists are cuffed behind the chair backs, they cannot leave. However as it turned out there was one more thing that needed to be done. Patiently waiting on Gail to recover from her orgasm, I watched as they all bowed their head and repeated the same verse in a perfect unison only achieved through practice. I will need to learn these words by heart.
“We long to serve. We wish to be taken. We hope to please.”
Master now reached into his suit jacket and handed Gail a key, and she went about the table, releasing her sisters and kissing them each on the lips with a few words. They all dispersed, chatting and walking together in groups as if it was not a meeting of slaves they were leaving, but rather a coffee get-together. When Gail came to me, my green light was lit. Feeling a bit bewildered, confused, and unsure of the routine, I longed to talk to her.
“Don’t be afraid, I know it’s a lot to take in all at once, but in a week you’ll be practiced.”
“You said afraid, fear, green is fear, isn’t it?”
She smiled at my excitement over the realization. “Yes, Jen, the green light indicates fear in all its relative stages.” Turning, she looked at our Master, who was quite busy, having bent a slave clad in light-blue nylon over the table. Master fucked her with ferocity, and I thought it sublime that no one, save Gail and I, even turned to watch. Gail did eventually catch Master’s eye, and he waved her away with a dismissive motion of his hand. “Master has given me permission to take you to your room, settle you in, and instruct you.”
It was clear to me a high level of understanding and trust existed between Gail and our Master. Could I ever approach their level? Feeling Gail take my hand, I willingly followed out the double door and up the spiral stairway.
Two to Serve Page 4