And Robin would rub her sore buttocks against the hard surface of her chair, look out into the yard where Jeff was pruning bushes in the nude, and tell them that the atmosphere in her new position just defied description.
As she proved her professional competence, Eric began to let go of the detail work that he hated so much, and even Jimmy got to appreciate the little things that he could just pass on to her without thinking. When he needed a responding gift for a wine merchant who had millions of dollars in Jimmy’s expert care, it was Robin who found the Impressionist watercolor of a vineyard seen through a window that had a wine glass posed beautifully on the sill. The client went into raptures over it, hung it in a place of honor, and sent two of his equally wealthy friends calling.
And although neither master used her sexually at first, both were equally likely to either punish her for some real error or to manufacture some reason to toy with her. Eric especially liked to watch Carl and Raul work on her, and she got used to their touches and desires. It was ironic again; it was almost as though she had surrogate masters.
Raul liked her, and showed it early on. Carl remained suspicious, and it was always Carl who invited Jeff to come and use her after lights out. It took Robin a while to notice all of the workings in the household, but she began to realize certain things in the first couple of weeks. Jeff was never allowed furniture other than his bed, and was also never allowed clothing. He was most likely to be used quickly and pushed away, and least likely to get a treat, like a sip from a master’s glass or even a pat on the head.
But after Robin had established herself and begun to make a difference in how the house worked, she, too, began to feel the wonderful pleasure that pleased attention from an owner could give. Eating in the kitchen with Raul one night, she was surprised to be called to the table and fed some of the dessert from Eric’s hand. Kneeling beside him and picking up ripe strawberries in her lips, she remembered telling Leon that she could never really do this seriously.
Oh yes I can, she realized, carefully licking the sweetness from Eric’s fingers.
During the day, it was rare for any of the slaves to bother her. There was an unwritten rule that allowed them to do their tasks uninterrupted. After all, they all might suffer if something vital was neglected so that someone else could have their fun. But again, she noticed that Raul and Carl had no compunctions about calling Jeff to them for a quickie during the day, even if it did call him away from whatever menial task he was performing.
* * * *
So one afternoon, while she was waiting for a call-back from an office in New York, she was more than ready to handle Jeff as he sauntered into her little office.
She had been a problem to dress at first. No one except for Jeff went naked all the time, but swimwear looked more natural on men than on women, at least to Eric’s eyes. It was Jimmy who came up with some more appropriate garments, taking them from a spa’s catalog. So on that particular day, Robin was wearing hip hugger spandex shorts and a cut-off top that held her breasts close to her body. Her throat chain touched the top of the cut-off and gleamed. And while she was still a little too soft around the middle to properly wear that combination, Raul had promised that a month or two of regular workouts would turn her into a real hardbody California girl.
“Except that you’re too short and your hair’s too dark,” he had muttered.
Jeff was a little sweaty from whichever chores he had been doing last. He walked into the room and looked over at Robin, who was doing nothing more strenuous than marking off pages in the latest catalogs.
“You’re not busy,” he announced, pulling on his cock. It lengthened away from his body and stiffened. His face was a slightly twisted mask of confidence. Carl’s invitations had been sporadic recently, and the masters almost never let him orgasm. He was probably horny as hell. He indicated his dick with a jerk of his head. “Come over here and suck me off.”
“In your dreams,” Robin answered smoothly. “Go away, you little pipsqueak.”
“What?” he demanded. He dropped his dick and came forward, leaning over her desk. He might have been a spare youth, without much bulk on him, but he was still taller than she was. “You don’t talk that way to me, cunt! I was here before you!”
“But you’re still a rotten little no-account jerk,” Robin replied. “You don’t have any authority over me. Go take a hike.”
Jeff drew himself up and frowned, then thought it over. He folded his arms. “If you don’t suck my cock,” he threatened, “I’ll just have Carl make you do it later.”
That was the gamble she had to take. If she let him get away with it, she’d have five masters in this house. Robin felt her own lip curling, and thought of the sight of Jeff’s body being shaken around by the heavy fucking that Jimmy liked so much. Envisioned the way his ass would turn red and then become bruised if she had one of Chris’s damn canes.
And that way, she felt her first twinge of satisfaction in the imagined suffering of another slave.
But she didn’t dwell on it. “You can always try that,” she said. “You can always try to beg a real man to get you what you can’t have for yourself. But in the meantime, get your scrawny ass out of here and get back to emptying the garbage cans or something.” Her phone rang, which gave her an excellent excuse to turn away from him and get back to her business.
But there was one other thing she had to do that day. She had to get to Carl.
Luckily, Jimmy was out that night, and Eric wanted to amuse himself by letting Jeff lick his feet for an hour or two, switching off to toe sucking when he got bored. Raul was busy with the household accounts, and Robin found Carl in the room that housed the gym equipment. He was working out on the rowing machine, watching a tape of a flowing river as he rowed. Robin squatted down next to him.
“I need to talk,” she said as an opening.
“So talk.”
“You were straight before you were sold?”
“That’s not talk, that’s a question.” Carl slowed down and then pulled to an easy stop. She passed him the towel and the water bottle and he grunted thanks. “What’s your point?”
“I like you,” she said, with some honesty. “You’re a kind of man that I’d go for on the outside. So I think we can have more fun if you’re interested in my willing cooperation instead of my acceptance of the inevitable.”
He smiled. “Good choice of words. I’m still waiting for the point.”
“I’m getting tired of the boy. He’s getting too cocky. He actually came on to me today and threatened to make you force me to take care of his horniness.” OK, so it wasn’t exactly what the kid said, but it was close enough.
It worked like a charm. “That asshole is getting too full of himself,” Carl growled. “I was doing him a fucking favor.”
“So do favors for people who know how to return them,” Robin suggested.
“Heh. Cool.” Carl grinned again. “Besides, it wouldn’t be too cool if the masters discovered the kid acting up, would it?”
Robin agreed.
“OK, Robin, you got a deal. Tell you the truth, it’s better for me. I haven’t had a girl in years. But Raul, he’s still got dibs.”
“Raul is cool,” Robin answered seriously. And then she broke out in giggles. I can’t actually start talking like them, she thought. No one in New York would ever take me seriously again!
* * * *
So, starting that night, Jeff learned to keep his distance. In fact, after a few casual and comfortable vanilla fucks, Carl turned a little vindictive. Why, this little asshole jerk almost cost him a fun sex partner! So he began to use the kid less often, and save himself for good times with Robin. Raul saw what was going on and accepted it. He never invited Jeff to make use of Robin anyway, and remained slightly aloof of the whole matter.
It was Robin’s first agreement made between slaves for the purpose of her own situation. Afterward, she was amazed at how natural it seemed to her, and how satisfying it was. Raul t
old her one night, “If things can be done without involving the masters, we do them. The masters must believe that our greatest concern is their pleasure, and our entire attention is upon helping them.”
It was all so delightful. And when Raul went off to sleep in the masters’ chamber, Robin examined herself and realized that she didn’t feel as rejected as she once imagined she would. In fact, nights like that gave her the opportunity to sleep spoon fashion with Carl, the rumbling warmth of his body a comfort. They would never do that in front of Raul. Somehow, it would be improper. And after an initial awkwardness, Robin began to relax and actually enjoy that almost secret intimacy. It was also a good way to remind Jeff that he was still low man on the totem pole.
* * * *
More than five months after she had entered her service, Jimmy was the first of the two masters to use her sexually.
This time, it was Eric who was away on business. He had achieved some notoriety as a model in a series of ads for a men’s cologne; the director had insisted on having him back for the next series, and he would be on location in Nice for two weeks. Jimmy took Carl to his bed for a few nights, and kept Raul busy trying to make up for the more or less constant influence that Eric had on the house. But at the end of the first week, Robin noticed that Jimmy was eyeing her in a speculative fashion more than once, and she felt a combination of wary and excited. But when Carl came into the small bathroom that the slaves shared and jerked a thumb down the hall, she was still surprised enough to panic.
“He’s not so hard to please,” Carl assured her. His gray eyes danced with amusement. “But your cocksucking isn’t gonna make him happy.”
“Oh, thanks,” Robin snapped. “Just what I needed.”
Carl shrugged. He had been with Jimmy for years. And Robin cursed herself when she realized that his ease about her going off to see the master was because Carl didn’t think that Jimmy would be amused with her for long. There was something kind of daunting about making her way down the hall. It was like going to see the professor who never gave top grades. She had the feeling that however well behaved and interesting and willing she was, there was still no way she was ever going to be master’s favorite. And damn it, it was hard to let go of that hope, no matter how impossible the situation seemed.
Jimmy was waiting for her, cross-legged on the huge bed that he shared with Eric. He was dressed only in a light cotton, kimono-style robe, loosely belted at the waist. He had a sparse cover of brown hair across his chest, trailing down to a narrow column on his midsection. Sometimes, when he and his lover were out by the pool, Robin could see them still as prince and valiant cousin. Apart from Eric, Jimmy was a good-looking guy, a little flamboyant and a little coarse. But together, they seemed as natural as any couple, complementing each other and making the whole more than the sum of its parts.
She knelt in a presenting greeting, bowing her head gracefully. He seemed pleased with the formality and snapped his fingers. “C’mere, I want to take another look at you.” She made sure it was OK, and then crawled onto the bed, crossing it to reach him. He brought her up onto her knees to examine her, tapping her thighs and her belly. He brushed her nipples with his fingers and they instantly sprang erect.
“I like that,” he said. “It’s a nice reaction.” Robin smiled, undecided as to whether that was an observation or a compliment. Either way, Jimmy didn’t seem interested in any comments from her. He pinched the nipples several times, until she winced, and then nodded. “OK, let’s see the back.”
She turned and presented for him, and blushed because that position always made her blush. Her pubic hair had grown in again, and under Raul’s direction she kept it trimmed rather short and in a tight banner that just covered her pussy lips. Her last beating, just for the hell of it, had actually been three days ago. Raul was good at keeping everything in order, but he wasn’t the disciplinarian that Eric was. Eric could find fault in anything. A three-day absence from some sort of reminder was almost unheard of.
Jimmy commented on it. “No bruises. And you’re not even pink. We’re gonna have to correct that. Eric would be all over me if he got back and found out you guys were just lolling around all week. Go get me... I know. A hairbrush. Isn’t that what moms are always spanking their little girls with? Yeah. There’s one in the bathroom. Do it doggy style; I wanna see how you look.”
The hardest part was getting off the bed on her hands and knees. It took a leap of faith that she wouldn’t just fall off head first and then have a tangle of legs follow. But she managed to do it, and crawled mutely over to the bathroom, which, thank goodness, was open and lit. Once out of sight, she sprang up, looked for and found the wooden backed hairbrush that must be what Jimmy wanted, and then wedged the handle lengthwise between her teeth, careful not to get it wet. She looked down at it in resignation: it was going to hurt like hell.
He took it from her mouth when she got back and told her to reassume the presenting posture again.
“I think I’m gonna tell Raul to keep this up every day while Eric’s away,” he said while he poised the brush. “I think you need it. What do you think, kiddo?”
“I think I need it, master,” she said, sinking her head even lower.
He laughed and delivered one hard spank. She clenched her teeth together, and drew her hands into fists. It was as bad as she thought. It felt worse than any paddle, because it was so hard and unforgiving and so small. In fact, it stung her almost as much as anything ever had while providing very little of the impact sensation that was the oh-so-good part about a nice beating. And Jimmy used it quickly and efficiently, as though covering her bottom with redness was a goal to be reached with as little fuss as possible.
When she couldn’t keep still anymore, he switched from her ass cheeks to her thighs, until she cried steadily. Then, he flipped her over and used the back of the brush against the slight swell of her breasts, and then the front of her thighs.
Robin felt like each new strike point was a little flash of lightning, and each landing of the brush against an already struck area was like a cane strike, burning and lingering. But her body reacted as it usually did, and she could feel her cunt opening as more and more of her skin became alive with the heat of the beating. When he spread her legs and began to beat the curls of flesh that guarded her cunt, she almost screamed. Whether it was through ignorance or design, he caught the hood of her clit and the emerging bud several times, making her see stars and actually bite her own tongue. Finally, she couldn’t keep silent anymore, and sharp whimpers began to escape.
“You still can’t take a lot,” Jimmy observed. He reversed the brush in his hand and rubbed the bristles against her pubic mound. “What is that like? Good? Or bad?”
It was better than being hit there. “Good, sir.”
“OK. And hitting?”
“Ah!” The bristles raised her own short hairs and parted her now swollen lips, brushing steadily against the tender interior flesh. Robin squirmed, just a little. “Very bad, sir.”
“Is it like being hit in the nuts, or in the cock? Do you have any idea?”
Actually, Chris had told her. “It’s like being hit on the head of the cock, sir.”
“No kidding.” Jimmy kept up his brushing movements. “If I do this for a long time, you’d probably hate it,” he said finally. “But I want to see you play with yourself. I never saw a girl jerk off. How do you do it? With a dildo? Your fingers?”
“Sometimes, sir.” Oh jeez, he wanted to see her jerk off. And not for his own titillation, but out of academic curiosity.
“Yeah? Do you like it when people go down on you? Do you come like that, too?”
“I can, sir.”
“I wanna see that, too. But not tonight.” He pulled his hand away, and once the steady sensation assault was absent, she began to feel the pounding ache of the parts of her body that he had covered with red marks and light bruises.
“Turn around and spread your legs and show me what you do to get off.”
And so she did. It was fairly easy, after all. She was already hot, and every move and twitch of her body brought a reminder of each part of that comprehensive beating he had given her. Before long, her fingers just found the right spot and the right tempo, and when she told him that she was near orgasm, he just waved one hand and told her to go ahead and do it.
Afterwards, he wanted to touch her and examine her, and seemed delighted to find that she was extra sensitive. But he was also a little disappointed. “I thought maybe you’d be one of those ejaculating girls. Girls don’t come as nice as boys do. There’s nothing much to see, nothing shooting out all obvious and tangible.”
She could only keep her mouth shut and hope he took that to be an agreement. She was almost relieved when he got through looking at her like a science experiment and opened his robe all the way. “Let’s see what that sweet little mouth is like,” he said, leaning back into the pillows. “Take it easy and slow. You’re gonna be there a long time.”
She did, inhaling his flesh and allowing him to feel her mouth surround him without pressing her lips tightly against his organ. He was not at full erection, but he was definitely interested, and he shifted to encourage her to take him deeper. But when she didn’t move fast enough, he just grabbed a handful of hair and shoved her face tightly down. She felt his cock twitching and then filling her mouth, jamming into the tight confines of her throat, and when she couldn’t bring in another breath, she pulled back sharply.
But Jimmy held her securely down, and sighed as her throat contracted even further on his cock, and the choking sounds began to reverberate on the bottom of the shaft. When he finally let her pull back a little, there were tears streaming down her face and she was gulping air in through her nose.
The Slave Page 27