Two to Serve
Chapter 7: Gail Reveals Herself
Shortly after I got back to my room, exhausted, my silver collar began to radiate a low hum, and I found that the tone made it hard to keep my eyes open. This must be what Gail said about the collar being a Master of sorts, as it appears to be putting me to sleep.
However, my sleep was interrupted on this my second night, as it could be on any night. A man, his face unknown to me and wearing a blue uniform like a security guard, came to my room and took me anally. Shafting me hard until he spurted in my bottom, he never said a word, treating me as a slave to be used for his pleasure, which of course I was. As he fucked my bottom, I wondered how often my sleep would be interrupted for sexual use.
On Sunday morning, I had breakfast in my room, a norm for The Mansion, but not as delightful an experience as the casual observer might think. While the meal was delivered to my room, it was eaten on my knees off a bowl on the floor, right in front of the deliverer. Assuming he was ordered to watch me finish so it could be known I was getting my nutrition, I wolfed down the eggs and sausage, trying to be as dainty as a sex slave can be. As always the food was delicious and was accompanied by a small glass bowl of champagne which I licked up.
Gail walked in as the uniformed guard was leaving, and he goosed her breasts as he passed her by. “So, do you enjoy the meals here? They are after all quite a different experience, as we even eat this way at formal occasions? Master’s guests enjoy watching us.”
As I sat on the bed beside her, she touched my breast, and I could see desire in her eyes. “Oh, it’s fine. In fact, it does get my sexual juices flowing, eating that way in front of someone.”
“Well, perhaps I’ll check that later.” She flashed me a smile. “There will be a contract signing next Saturday, where you will wear your nylon and your head mask for the first time together. She paused, and I knew there were things of a more personal nature she wanted to ask.
“Whatever you’re wondering, Gail, go ahead and ask.”
“Why do you cling to this outside job, is it very important to you?”
“Well, my job is all about my other side, Gail. In business, I’ve developed a dominant side, and over the last ten years, I’ve sort of let it rule my life, until I discover the joys of submission two years ago. I even have someone I dominate, who works at my office with me. Is the job a problem, because I guess it doesn’t mean anything to my submission, and perhaps I’m just clinging to it for familiarity’s sake?” Frowning, I realized something I had not yet admitted to myself. My dominance is no longer the ruling force in my life, submission has taken over.
Gail sensed my floundering emotional state, and she tried to lead me, like a slave, where my mind had not gone, but truly wanted to go. “That sounds wonderful, but I get the sense that you aren’t that person anymore. You have not admitted it to yourself yet, but you seek something else now. Something that person is fearful of.”
In just those few insightful words, Gail had penetrated to the heart of the matter. She, like our Master before her, had seen right through my thin veneer, to what I truly was. Cold fear gripped me, and I saw my green light blinking rapidly in the mirror.
“Yes, that Jen is frightened by where I am heading. I’m not sure what to do, Gail. It’s like I’m at this crossroads, and there are no signs to direct me.”
“Well, since I’ve been at that exact crossroads before, perhaps I can give directions. I know you well enough now to see that, like me, submission is your nature, a deep, compelling desire. Let me tell you the story of when I stopped denying my nature. Do you know of a French company called La Petite Fashional?’
The name was vaguely familiar to me. I remembered a European fashion corporation in the news about five years ago for a sex scandal. The young, popular female CEO, who had inherited the small company from her father and built it into a vast corporation, was forced out on moral turpitude charges. She had apparently been having sex with employees, suppliers, and business partners. My mind worked, trying to remember the name I had seen under the picture of the ousted, blonde CEO. When the cobwebs cleared, I was truly astounded. “You’re that Gail Frouchette! You were the one ousted from your father’s company, after you had built it up, from next to nothing. What really happened?”
“My father brought me up to be an extension of himself, his successor in all things. I was delighted and thoroughly into my business-orientated childhood at first, but I always knew there was something more for me, something I yearned for but didn’t understand. I was so young when he handed me the reins, and I found out the older male CEOs were like putty in my hands. In two years I had built a financial empire, but then in one night it lost its appeal.” She paused, and I knew the important part, to her, was coming now.
“On just a random night at a French club, I met this man, curly, brown locks and deep, blue eyes who saw right inside me. He knew what this thing I didn’t understand was, and I soon found I could deny him nothing. That very night, he took me to his hotel room and took me, using me like I was his personal toy. It would have been rape, had I not desired everything he did so much. It was like a door had opened up, a door I had been waiting on, but did not know what it looked or felt like. As I stepped through the door, nothing else mattered except him and more of how he made me feel.”
The man’s description sounded familiar to me, and I hazarded my guess. “It was Master, and the scandal?”
She nodded. “It was entirely my plan to get free, and never be able to return. I planted the story, complete with detailed, but entirely false, accounts of my assignations with employees and business associates. The price the French press paid for the story was silence about any of the details that I had furnished them with. That way, it looked like I was resigning, falling on my sword, for the good of my company. Leaving France, I accompanied Master here, and a few months later, the MSC and The Mansion started. Is everything a bit clearer to you now, Jen? I believe that like me, you will eventually have no need for this job.”
We are truly a pair; so much alike. “How long did it take, after you met Master, before you totally lost interest in the business? I’ve been having that feeling, but I need some time to arrange things before I leave.”
Gail grinned at me. “So you are already feeling it. Well, it took maybe two weeks for all interest to leak out of me, but I suspect you’re possessed of stronger will, Jen. I imagine you’ll make it, and I won’t pester you about it now that I know you’re of the same mind.”
“Have you ever regretted your decision? Wanted to go back?”
Gail looked at me, quizzically, as if she was surprised at my lack of understanding. “What exactly would I miss? Here at The Mansion I have both worlds now, as first slave to our Master and CEO of Mansion Slaves Corporation.”
Feeling like slapping myself for not seeing that, I knew she was completely correct. “How does MSC earn profits, Gail, considering it’s a corporation owned by sex slaves?”
“You might as well know, as you will someday be CEO. MSC is a holding company receives all the profits from all the Murdoch Industries. In actual legal fact, Master is nearly penniless, as all his companies profits flow directly into MSC, but his control is of course in controlling, as he does, the board of MSC. Let me give you an example to better explain how things work. Padraig, who harnessed us to the cart last night, is an employee of Murdoch Industries. His official job is grounds supervisor of The Mansion, and even though MSC owns Murdoch Industries, I cannot fire him, yet our Master can. However, what I could do, and our Master could not, is call a board meeting of MSC and with a simple majority vote of our principles, award a one-million-dollar lump sum payment to Padraig. Quite an interesting arrangement, isn’t it.”
It certainly is. My mind reeled a bit at the complexity of it all. Yet, there was a hidden beauty to the situation, a company controlled by slaves, who by their very nature were controlled.
“It’s almost mind-boggling, but it must wor
k out.”
Done with her explanation, Gail moved aggressively to me, pushing her lips to mine in a kiss, and slipping her fingers to my pussy. Pushing me down against the soft satin sheets, she took control, and I was of no mind to stop her.
All I could think about Sunday night as I slipped into those same satin sheets was Donna. Longing to see her again, I worried about how my waning interest in work would affect her. Should I push her forward in business, hoping she can eventually replace me as a VP, or should I push her forward in her submission, hoping she might someday be able to join me here at The Mansion? Either way this is going to make things harder on her.
Two to Serve
Chapter 8: Back to the Grind
It wasn’t even light out when Blue and Red intruded into my room, blindfolding and leashing my nipples while cuffing my wrists behind my back. This must be my commute to work, but aren’t they going to wash me, make me up, and dress me? After traversing three flights of stairs, I was again pushed into a limo.
First thing on the agenda of my silent captors was the satisfaction of their lusts. To a slave this was an opportunity, so I applied myself to Red’s merciless face fucking, doing my best to serve his pleasure. By the time he came, and handed me off casually to Blue, I was a sweaty, slick slave, but ready for Blue’s focus on my pleasure.
However, Blue neither took nor gave me pleasure, as I heard an electric buzz, like a door opening. A snap of my nipple leash made me follow, blinded as I was, and in moments I heard water flowing. With my curiosity growing, I heard Blue’s voice, firm but not cruel, giving me instructions. “Get on your knees and walk on them forward until I tell you to stop.”
Knee walking forward, I felt the carpeted floor of the limo change to smooth ceramic, and then Blue ordered me to stop.
“In front of you is a tub filled with warm water. When I take off your blindfold and leash, squirm yourself into it and remain motionless, your legs spread.”
When he granted me sight, I slipped belly first over the tub’s edge and got myself into the exposed position he desired. The perfumed water with copious bubbles felt amazing after my sweating toils with Red, and I felt certain I knew what would happen. As I sat there, a mere piece of flesh, Blue washed me gently and intimately with a soft, loofah sponge.
Noticing there were no windows in this compartment, I realized why I had been blindfolded again for this trip. Apparently, I would never be allowed to know the location of The Mansion, but I wondered why that was so important.
His hazel eyes looking proud of his work, Blue helped me get up and out of the tub and dried me with a big fluffy towel, making me feel girlish. Now, like he was my servant, he dressed me, opening a small cabinet to take out a neatly folded clean pile of clothing. Recognizing the clothes immediately, I knew they had been taken directly from my closet at my condo. It all seemed a bit unreal to me as Blue rolled my opaque hose up my long smooth legs, fastening it to the garters hanging from a familiar belt I had worn many times before. Helping me wiggle into a blue knee-length skirt and zipping it tight for me, he seemed to be taking great joy at making me back into a normal looking woman. As he buttoned the off-white silk blouse over my braless breasts, I felt him look me over and smell me.
“If I were not a representative of your Master, and you met me at a club, let’s say, would you find me attractive?” He placed his hands over my breasts and breathed deep as he finished the question, as if having me dressed again was good for him.
What a question. I have no idea. Catching me completely off guard, I responded instinctively, and perhaps that was what he wanted. “You’re handsome, Mr. Blue, and it’s hard to say for sure, but, yes, I think I would.”
“Would you go the next step and go home with me, perhaps even have sex?”
Why is he so eager to know this? He can take me anytime he desires.
Barely believing it took me so much time to pull myself out of submissive mode to think like a woman again, I again responded on instinct. Looking into his eyes and his dark hair, I saw an honest man, dominant but not overly mastering. “Yes, on both counts, Mr. Blue, I think I would. May this slave know your real first name?” Have I gone too far with that question? Strayed away from the slave I am.
“Honesty demands honesty. My name is Glen. Now please sit, slave, and I will make you up. I enjoy creating goddesses from ordinary woman, and slaves are so lovely already in their submission.” Pulling out a makeup kit, complete with everything he would need, he pointed to a leather car seat facing a mirror on the limo wall. Brushing out my long raven tresses first, Blue proceeded to make me up like a professional, giving me a suspicion of what he did for a living.
“Any complaints or areas you feel need special attention?” He asked as he finished me up.
Looking at my face in the mirror, I felt I looked as beautiful as I ever had. Taking a chance, I addressed him. “Are you Master’s hairdresser, Glen? Your work is wonderful. Thank you.”
“Good guess. Yes, I am. Here is a little reward, slave, for your honesty.” Knowing I had no panties on, Blue swiftly pushed his fingers between my legs, slipping them in my slit. His fingers now imbedded, he rolled my swelling clit with his thumb, and I gasped out my need.
“Remember, this may happen every morning on your way to work, so I hope you can deal with the grind of it all. Orgasms as you commute to work may be hard to get used to.”
Oh, I don’t think it will be too bad. Somehow I’ll muddle through, Glen. As I opened my legs wider, leaning back in the seat, and listening to the sloshing penetration of my slave cunt, I wondered if this was the best reason to continue going to work. Squealing, I quivered to a splendorous climax and felt Glen help me rise out of the seat.
The last thing he gave did was put shoes on my feet before he pushed me forward back up into the main passenger area, where Red was sitting. My first glimpse of Red astonished me, as he was indeed a small man, short with beady black eyes, which looked perpetually nervous. His cruelty had made me see him as a big, thrashing, hulk, but that was far from the truth. As he looked up at me with his raven hair, his eyes gleamed and his lips sneered. “Is the bitch ready to play boss again?”
I said nothing, but thankfully Blue interjected. “Slave, this is David, beyond being my counterpart, Mr. Red, he is The Mansion’s head of security. I’m not sure what that says about safety there.” Blue chuckled and pointed at the seat as a command for me to sit.
Instinctively, I sat down and crossed my legs, perhaps because I was dressed again and my dominant side was stirring. Of course, crossing your legs is a learned behavior for a proper girl, as our mothers teach us, but in this situation it was a major slip up, at least in David’s mind.
Not bothering to inform me of my error, David preferred to correct it himself, actively. His hand reached over and slapped my face, while my thighs were split apart by his powerful leg. For good measure, he slapped my hose-covered inner thighs and gave me a loud, stern rebuke, reminding me of my place in the world.
“Legs spread, cunt exposed. Mansion rules apply in this limo, slave. It’s bad enough that your breasts are covered. In fact, let’s remedy that error.”
Rapidly unbuttoning the buttons on my blouse, he exposed my breasts again and tweaked each nipple, making me wince.
“Glen, please leave the slaves in proper Mansion undress until they leave the limo. If need be, release their hands so they can hold their skirt up. I won’t stand for breaches of Mansion rules by slaves.”
“Okay, okay, I slipped up. Just calm yourself, David, there’s no need to be aggravated. Best you prepare her collar, as we are nearly there.”
Thinking about what things would be like if David ran The Mansion by his rules, I shuddered, but my thoughts were interrupted as he pulled my head forward and touched the back of my collar. In an instant, it popped off, and he grabbed it and pulled out a black box with a plug lead he connected to my snapped open collar.
How did he do that? I felt nothing back there. Is he
going to put it back on me? If the collar had been in contact with my neck, it would have been blinking blue, as I was afraid. A cold sweat of panic broke over me, as I wondered what was happening. This isn’t good, I feel it.
“How about you make yourself useful, Glen, by explaining to the slut what the conditions of her working day will be.” As David spoke, he continued to press buttons on the black box, feeding information into my collar.
“Well, it’s simple really. We will arrive on Federal Street in front of your office building at approximately ten minutes to nine, which will give you time to get to your office by nine. David is programming your collar to snap shut at ten minutes past three this afternoon. Now, of course you won’t be wearing the collar while you work, but you must be in this limo with your neck in the collar at the proper time, or else you are no longer a Mansion slave.”
Like ducks in a row, it all came together for me now in a clear but horrifying picture. The reason The Mansion’s location was kept secret was not so much for secrecy from the world, but so a slave could not return if she were abandoned as unworthy. If I’m not in this limo, with my neck in that collar at 3:10 pm, my whole world dissolves, never to return. All the work and sacrifice I have made gone in a single instant.
Now I truly began to panic at the thought of all the truly random things that might prevent me from being here. I imagined a stopped elevator, power outage, fire in a lower floor of the building, or any number of other things that could go wrong.
“There, all set, the only question now is will your pretty neck be inside when it activates?”
David’s statement made me go into hyperpanic, and I looked at Glen. “Mr. Blue, you will be at the spot you drop me off at three, right?”
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