A Favour for a Friend

Part 6. A master and his slaves.

James.

Nick closes the garage door and comes over to take my briefcase. "Good evening, Sir, did you have a good day?" "Thank you, yes, but I'm tired and very much looking forward to some rest and a drink before dinner". "Yes, Sir". He flashes a smile and precedes me across the lawn. "On the terrace, Sir?" Summer has arrived with a vengeance and I look longingly at the comfortable chairs in the shade of a parasol. "Sure". I enter the parlour, where a naked girl is arranging flowers, but drops to her knees as soon as she sees me. "Good evening, Sir". Her head is submissively bowed and her long, blonde hair hides her face, but I know that she's smiling. "Good evening, Danielle. Why are you naked?" "I'm on punishment duty, Sir". "Oh, yes, I'd forgotten". I nod and pass through to the hall, dropping my suit jacket on a chair, run up the stairs, shedding my tie and hanging it on the rail. The shirt ends up on the landing, my shoes are kicked in the direction of the door to my bedroom and my trousers drop to the floor before I flop down in a chair, stretching my tired feet. A hugely grinning Nick, laden with my discarded clothes, picks up my trousers. "My, my, Sir! Must've been a hard day". I just grunt and he carefully places the clothes on another chair, then kneels down in front of me, relieves me of my socks and grabs my right foot to raise it and begin washing it with his tongue. Sighing contentedly I let my head drop back and relax, enjoying his skilled ministrations. "Better, Sir?" He changes to my other foot. "Much better, thank you". "My pleasure, Sir. Do you want a bath or just to change into something comfortable?" "A quick shower". "Yes, Sir". He reaches for my briefs and I raise my bum to let him haul them down, freeing an erect cock. "Oh my, Sir! That looks very painful. Can I do something about it?" "What for example?" I ask with a mischievous smile. "This, Sir". He returns the smile and swallows my member. The experienced mouth and tongue brings me to the point of explosion, but suddenly lets me out. "Hey! What?" I protest indignantly but shut my mouth again when my feet are raised to rest on the edge of the chair. A hot tongue caresses my sack, traces its way along the sensitive area below it and licks around my arsehole. "What an expert you've become, Nick", I moan. "Got a good teacher, Sir". The tip of his tongue stabs past my sphincter.

After an earth shattering orgasm I watch him swallow, lick my cock clean and look up with a grin. "Better now, Sir?" I take his handsome face between my hands to drag him up for a long kiss, our tongues playing, and taste myself. "As good as new". "Thanks, Sir". "How's your arse?" "Sore, Sir". "Show me". He turns his back and drags down his shorts. The fifteen clearly raised welts are still red. "Looks good!" "Glad to hear that, Sir". "Looking forward to my fucking it again tonight?" He hauls the shorts back on and faces me. "Thanks, Sir, my pleasure, but I have a paper to finish. Couldn't you make do with Pete?" "Poor Pete!" "Do him good, Sir. Time he did something useful". He grins again. "Poor Danielle, then, sleeping all alone in a cold bed, and after a punishment!" "Ha, they've been fucking like rabbits all afternoon, Sir. Lazy slavegirl!" "You're a heartless brute, aren't you...slaveboy?" "Who had to iron your shirts, Sir, because she'd 'forgotten' to do them?" "Anyway". "Nah, Sir, you're much too kind to those girls". "Who have such a bad friend". "Who, Sir? Me, Sir? You can't mean that, Sir!" "Perhaps not, but I don't like punishing them". "Just as I told you, Sir, you're much to kind. This is the twentyfirst century, the age of equality between boys and girls". "Perhaps, but not in this house"". "Because the master is so old fashioned, Sir". "A gentleman, I hope". He suddenly turns grave, "Yes, Sir, a kind and gentle man", and kisses me again. "Shall I start your shower, Sir?" "I can manage, but I'd like a good long drink in fifteen minutes". "Yes, Sir". I leave for the bathroom and hear him moving around. "And a footstool". "Yes, Sir".

I come back, much refreshed, to find a fresh pair of briefs, a t-shirt, a pair of comfortable slacks and my loafers ready, and dress before running down the stairs. Delicious smells of cooking are wafting up and I continue to the cellar to poke my head into the kitchen. A barefoot girl in a pair of shorts, her delicate breasts only half covered by an apron, is about to take a freshly baked loaf of bread out of the oven. "Allow me". In two strides I'm beside her, take over the protecting gloves and carry the bread to cool on the windowsill. "Thank you, Sir". "My pleasure. What's for dinner?" "On a hot day like this I thought that cold vegetable soup, quiche Lorraine and raspberry fool would be nice, Sir". "Excellent! Are you dining with us or are you going out?" "No, Sir, not tonight. Angie needs her rest". She smiles shyly and I slap her rump gently. "Been maltreating my sister, have you now, you naughty slavegirl?" "I don't think she'll agree with you, Sir". She shakes her lush auburn mane away from her eyes. "I suppose not".

On the terrace I find my favourite chair placed in the shadow, a low table with a tall glass and a bowl of olives beside it, and a naked, blonde girl on her knees. And not just on her knees, but with her hands forced between her legs, ankles and wrists locked into a set of stocks. "Aah!" I sink down on the chair, take a long sip of the gin and tonic, kick off the loafers and place my bare feet on the soft mounds. "This is Paradise", I mumble and hear a heartfelt, "Yess", from the tormented girl.

Nick.

Master James appears to be asleep when I look out to see if he needs anything, so I fetch a bottle of water and pad noiselessly past him to kneel beside Danny. She raises her head to let me send several squirts into her mouth. At last she nods and rests her forehead back on the tiles. I touch her cheek and tiptoe away. She's in pain, don't I know, forced into that cramped position, and so am I. He was damned mean last night, fifteen of the best, and with the crop!

When we came here, three years ago, it was like we'd died and gone to Heaven. Pete and I cleaned and repainted the mews, Master James bought new furniture for it. Each of us had a room with a bed, a closet, a chair and a desk with a computer. In our common room we could relax with TV or stereo. Not that we did relax much. We worked with the houses and garden, and our master kept his promise to give us a tough time preparing for exams to enter university over here. Despite the hard work, it was sheer delight. We did something we liked, we were out every day, meeting other young people, making friends. We were normal boys and girls, not miserable, barefoot slaves, serving some sadistic master or mistress, or slaving away for a service company. Only at home did we look and to some extent act like slaves. Chris cooked and the three of us took care of cleaning and washing, and we alternated serving the master. Not that he demanded anything, but we used the skills we'd got at the training camps to make him comfortable.

Four happy girls and boys, free to spend our days as we liked, as long as we lived up to our own standards, nicely dressed and housed, we even had pocket money to spend. Paradise, but with a snake hiding in the shadows. Master James worked hard establishing himself in business, came home very tired and spent hours in front of the computer most evenings. He was unfailingly polite and seemed grateful and a bit surprised by our efforts to smooth his way, but as the first year went by he became more and more depressed. He rarely entertained guests, apart from his sister, he didn't seem to have many friends, and he certainly had no lover. It affected, saddened, us, now we'd grown to like him so much and we discussed what to do about it, but couldn't think of anything but what we were already doing. Steve came for a holiday and I was happy to see him. So was Master James and they spent a lot of time together, in and out of bed, but in the end it was clear that they were growing apart. When he left, our master seemed even more depressed, burying himself in his work. A gloomy atmosphere descended upon the house, affecting all of us.

The change came out of the blue. Of course we made mistakes to annoy him, but as promised, he never did anything but raise an eyebrow or occasionally scold us gently. But one evening, bringing up his coffee after dinner, I tripped over one of the Oriental rugs, stumbled, dropped the tray and overturned a side table. A very beautiful antique bowl was smashed to the floor. I heard an angry
outburst and a second later he slapped my left cheek, then the right, left and back again. I knelt upright, stunned, and took the punishment meekly until he stopped as sudden as he'd begun and sank back in his chair, burying his face in his hands. "I'm sorry, Nick! I'm so sorry, but that bowl meant a lot to me". I didn't know what to do, just knelt there, staring at my tormented master for what seemed a long time, but could only have been a minute or so. Then I went to his bedroom where I knew he'd hidden it, and came back to kneel in front of him, offering the cane. "Please, Sir!" He raised his head, staring uncomprehendingly, but accepted it. I got up, shed my t-shirt and shorts and mutely draped myself over the back of an armchair, arse high. Nothing happened for long minutes, then I sensed him beside me. Still nothing happened, but I kept my position and at last heard a swishing sound. A fraction of a second later burning pain spread across my unprotected skin. I jumped, but regained the position and bit my lower lip to suppress a scream. The cane hit me again and again, without pause, until he suddenly stopped, after more than twenty, I think, and stood there, breathing heavily. It was pure agony, but I managed to gather my wits and reached back to open my arsecheeks. "Please, Sir!" Again nothing happened, but then I heard rustling of clothes and clenched my jaws in preparation. He was gentle, very gentle, but it nevertheless hurt when his cock slowly penetrated my tight hole. I don't think he pumped more than two or three times before spurting into my bowels, then collapsed on my back and stayed there, breathing heavily. A whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm so terribly sorry", reached my ears and he stood up, extricating himself with a soft plop. "I'm going to bed and won't need any of you tonight".

When Pete brought up the tea next morning, Master James told him that he wished to see all four of us after breakfast. I'd of course told the others what had happened and he found us lined up on our knees, naked, in the sitting room. He stopped abruptly, but before he had time to say anything, Pete acted as our spokesman. "Sir, we know what you're about to say. Please don't. Please do it again". "Do what?" "Punish us, use us, Sir". "You can't possibly be sincere!". "We are, Sir", Chris took over, "We need it and you need it". "No you don't". "Sir! We're your slaves, but only human. We make mistakes, annoy you, and you don't do anything about it. That makes us feel guilty, sad. If you punished us, it would be over at once, and we'd feel much better". "No you wouldn't, especially not Danielle". "I would, Sir. A just punishment is not abuse, and I'd welcome it". "I can hardly believe that, and what about the other kind of abuse?" "Sir!" I caught his eyes. "We only want to serve you, repay what you've done, do for us. Please allow us, please!"

I'm not like my brother, I still hate it, the cane or the belt or the crop, but we only get it if when we've done something to deserve it. Master James never hits the girls, they're given extra unpleasant duties or are tied up uncomfortably for a time. And of course he never uses them for sex, only Pete and me, and we've not only grown used to, but rather like it, me not least. I don't know, but I guess I'm falling in love with my master. So now this 'is' Paradise.

Chris.

"How is she?" Nick comes back with the bottle. "Just fine". "And Master James?" "Sleeping". "Want a glass?" I indicate the bottle of white wine I've been using preparing dinner. "No thanks. I've better run down to rouse Pete if he's still asleep and work on my paper until dinner, unless there's something I can do for you?" He grins and I grin back. Once this might have lead to kissing and cuddling, but now we have other preferences, both of us.

The first time it was weird and if Angie hadn't persuaded me to share a bottle of wine with her, I think I'd run away. Not from the sex part. I'd been trained for it and making love to and receiving love from Danny had opened my eyes to the pleasures two girls can give each other. But to hurt your partner! In spite of the wine my hands were shaking when I strapped her to the cross, but seeing her writhing in agony and lust while I slowly decorated her skin with clothespins awakened hidden feelings. Her laboured breathing, her whimpering, to see her struggling against the tight straps made me wet. And when she later, freed from the cross, but still marked by the pins and with her hands tied behind her, knelt between my legs and licked me to one shattering orgasm after another, I thought I'd die.

I went along to help Danny, but I stayed on because I loved it, and grew to love Angie. Ours turned out to be a perfect partnership between a sadist and a masochist. We do what we do because it's equally satisfying to both of us. There's no tearful remorse or frustrated accusations afterwards, just passionate lovemaking and content resting in each other's arms. The sessions have gradually grown harder. We went from light bondage and clothespins to prolonged periods in a hogtie, to suspensions, arms up, head down, flying spreadeagle, rolled into a ball, to more and more intricate and painful positions. But that's all. I've never hit Angie and I wouldn't like to, but she may want to take that further step one day. Just now she can't.

She has, repeatedly, asked Master James to let me move to her flat, to make a present of me or to allow her to buy me. He's always refused, in spite of heated or tearful arguments, and eventually we've had to admit that he's right. I 'am' a slave, that's a fact, and I'll stay a slave for another two years, but as his property. If he orders me to please his sister, I can't object, but if I refuse to do what she tells me, she can't do anything about it, short of complaining to her brother, and she'd never dare. Were I her own slave she could force me, punish me, and that would ruin the delicate balance between consensual play and ugly abuse. So we'll have to wait until I'm free again before entering a permanent relationship on equal terms.

And we will. Angie gave me a present at my last birthday. A double dildo. When the day comes, we'll finally be united. We'll hug, kissing deeply, while we lose our virginity, to each other.

Master James allows me to spend three evenings and nights a week with her, the rest of the time I stay here, working and studying with my fellow slaves and friends, and even if I'm longing to be free, I know that I'll miss this paradise.

Pete.

I leave the mews to cross the lawn and enter the terrace. Master James is asleep in his chair, feet resting comfortably on Danny's bare back. I kneel quietly beside her and she turns her head to give me a weak smile. She's so lovely, every muscle in her tanned body strained to endure the painful position. My heart goes out to her, but there's nothing I can do, other than caress her hot cheek and leave my hand there to let her rest her head on it.

Half an hour later our master sighs in his sleep and shifts his legs. I sit upright on my knees, hands clasped behind my back and head bowed. "Good evening, Pete". "Evening, Sir. I'm so sorry". "What for?" "Falling asleep like that in the middle of the afternoon, Sir". "You had your reasons, I believe?" He chuckles and gently kicks the tempting globes in front of him. "I became so absorbed in the project last night, worked on it until pretty late, Sir, and we had a test today". "Which went well, I assume?" "I think so, Sir". "So my poor hardworking slaveboy came home exhausted?" "I, eh, a bit, Sir". "Only to face another tough task?" His toes dig between Danny's exposed cunt lips. "Ah, not really, Sir". "But it finished you?" "Ah, yes, Sir, if you put it like that. I'm sorry, Sir. Do I fetch the cane now or would you want to wait punishing me, Sir?" "Neither, you can serve me tonight". "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir". "For molesting your arse?" "For allowing me to please you, Sir". "Perhaps. How far did you get with the project?" "I finished it, Sir, or so I believe. I haven't made the final test yet". "Very good, very good indeed. Fetch me a drink and tell me about it. You may have a glass too, if you like". "Thank you, Sir".

We're discussing our work, Master James still in his chair, nursing a gin and tonic, and I sitting on the tiles beside his human footstool with a glass of white wine, when we faintly hear a car door slamming and a moment later the front door. "Hi, there, Uncle Jamie!" A gangly teenage girl, all arms and legs, dressed in a white tennis skirt and sweatshirt, comes prancing out to the terrace, dropping her racket on a chair. "Good evening, my dear". Master James offers his cheek for a kiss. "Did you have a good day?" "Terrific!" She flops down on a chair. "Hi, Pete. I beat Johnny 6-5, 5-6, 6-3". "Good, my dear, very, very good. Fetch Gabrielle a coke, will you, Pete?" "Aw, Uncle Jamie! A glass of white wine, please, just a small one, to celebrate". "No way, young lady. One glass on Sunday with your dinner, until you've turned eighteen". "Aw, Uncle Jamie, all the other girls drink wine!" "You are not 'other girls', Miss, but my ward". "Yeah, yeah". "And very happy and grateful to Master James". That comes from the chained girl. "Yes, Sis. Sorry, Sir, Uncle Jamie, Sir".

I come back with a glass just as she's toeing off her trainers. "Thanks, Pete. Aargh! My feet are killing me". "I'm so sorry about that, Miss Gaby. Perhaps I can help you?" I drop to my knees, offering the glass, and then peel down her damp socks. "Aw, Pete, don't do that!" "Do I offend you, Miss Gaby?" "Nah, it's nice, but you shouldn't". She giggles when my tongue slides over her sweaty sole. "Why not, Miss Gaby? Its' only my duty as a slave". "Yeah, but you're no slave of mine but my best friend and my brother in law".

Once Danny overcame the shocks of her first enslavement and her failure to serve Miss Angela, she again became the strong and cheerful girl Chris knew from the training camp. Her only real worry was about her young sister, left behind with their drunken slut of a mother. I suggested that she asked Master James' permission to write to her, but Danny was sure that their mother would intercept any letters. Chris solved that problem by suggesting that she tried writing one of her sister's friends and ask her to deliver them. It worked. Danny and Gabrielle, Gaby for short, wrote regularly and Master James even gave Danny money to send to her sister to pay for phone calls. Things at their home were, if not good, then at least tolerable, until Gaby called to tell that their mother had fallen seriously ill and was probably dying. Danny went sick with worry, not because of their mother, but about Gaby. She was only sixteen and would have to go into care, a fate not very different from that of a slave, at least for a girl from a poor family. When told about it Master James simply took Danny and me over there.

It was strange to be back as an ordinary slave again. Treated as so much cargo on the plane, chained in a transport van, shorts and bare feet in public. Our master took one look at the hotel's slave rooms, told the staff that he needed his slavegirl at his disposal twentyfour hours a day, so she had to sleep in his suite, and sent me to stay with my parents. The reunion was as happy as the last. Mum tearful and Dad dignified, but immensely proud of me, and my brothers almost envious. "Gee, man! A life in luxury, nothing you could call work and free education", they teased, "That's the life of a slave? Count yourself lucky that you ain't a free man". Master James came out for tea one day and left Danny behind. Mum took one look at the blonde beauty when I introduced her as one of my fellow slaves, then hugged her. "Welcome, daughter!" Dad hmm'd and haw'd something about taking no nonsense from this son of his and my brothers were for once stunned into silence, shyly grabbing her small white hand in their black paws.

Danny's mother had died the day before we arrived. Master James paid for the funeral and thereafter took her Gaby in hand. Danny was her only close relative, but as a slave she of course couldn't qualify as her guardian, so he claimed her as his ward. 'To allow her staying with her sister'. The people at Town Hall obviously thought that he was getting a new slavegirl pretty cheap, but had no objections and within a week we were on our way home. Danny and I chained in the back, Gaby and Master James travelling first class.

It might have been awkward had Gaby not been such an easygoing and likeable girl. As usual our master didn't issue any orders, just asked us to make two of the rooms on the third floor ready for her and then left us to sort out how to cope with a sixteen year old free girl in our midst. To begin with she was subdued and bewildered, literally clinging to Danny for support, and we simply went on from there. Master James became her 'Uncle Jamie', a benevolent elder relative, who lay down the rules, sends her to a prestigious school and generally provides for her. Danny is at times her mum, sometimes her elder sister, always the person she goes to if in any kind of trouble. Chris is her girlfriend, with whom she can giggle, share her secrets. Nick and I are slaves of the house, call her 'Miss Gaby', do what she says, within limits, which she never oversteps, and serve her to the best of our ability. She's the pet of our paradise.

Danny.

The naked girl snuggles closer to me, mumbling in her sleep, and I kiss her forehead. So warm, so comforting. I miss Pete, but when I can't have him, Gaby is no poor substitute. 'God, what I owe Master James!' My life, my sanity, my love. I'm a strong girl, tough, had never survived if not, but at times like this it's almost too much to bear. Abused from I was a child, enslaved for trying to defend my sister, going through hell, and then end up here, surrounded by friends, well on the way to fulfil my hopeless dream of becoming a doctor, loved by a man I love more than life itself. And who loves me so deeply that he's able to retain that love even if I demand the impossible.

Gaby was a wreck, mentally, when Master James rescued her, just like he'd saved her sister. I did prevent that monster mutilating her, but not before his ministrations had shocked her to the point of being physically sick if a man as much as put an arm around her shoulders in all innocence. I couldn't allow that. I'd been enslaved for protecting her, but had no intention of seeing her denied the most important part of a girl's life.

To go through that without knowing, enjoying the pleasures a man can bring you, because a twisted specimen of their gender tried to take them from you to fulfil his own needs, were an unacceptable destiny. I was almost in the same wilderness when Pete saved me, because he was able to behave like a true gentleman, without the slightest hint of lusting for me until I made the first advance, and even then he was reluctant, afraid that I was offering myself to him out of gratitude.

Gaby got back on her feet once Mater James brought her over here, got her smile back, acted like a normal teenager, but I sensed her discomfort, almost smelled her fear when any other men than he, or Nick or Pete came close enough to touch her. I talked it over with her, tried to reason with her, telling how wonderful a sexual relationship between a woman and a man can be, how fulfilling, how utterly indispensable, but she didn't, couldn't believe me. At last I did succeed in persuading her to try, promising to hold her hand when he had her way with her.

That was hard enough, but to make Pete do the honours went far beyond his limits. Yet his love for me was strong enough. He held my eyes while his tongue reduced my sister to a shivering wreck, while his long cock slowly penetrated her, making her climb even higher towards Heaven on Earth. When she lay there, barely conscious, mumbling how wonderful it was, babbling her thanks, he withdrew his stiff member and I engulfed it, gratefully swallowing what he'd never allow himself to deposit in her womb.

Depraved? Perhaps. But whenever I see Gaby socialising happily with her schoolmates, read the admiration in their eyes, sense that she can retain that without giving herself up or cringing back in disgust, my love for Pete rises to even higher peaks.

In two years time he'll be free to claim me. Not just because he'll stay here as Master James' assistant, once he has his degree in computer sciences, to enjoy the charms of his employer's slavegirl, as he has been allowed to do it as his slave, but because I'll be his property.

We could hardly believe him when Master James called us in to tell that he'd discovered a way of freeing me, years before my enslavement comes to an end. "In two years you'll be free, Pete". "Yes, Sir". "But I hope that you'll consider staying with me, as my assistant, partner?" "Thank you, Sir, if you'll have me". "I suppose that Christine will leave at the same time. Nick can just as well move in with me, at least for the last two of his years as a slave". "Yes, Sir?" "So I'll offer you the mews as your first home". "Thank you, Sir". "You'll need a housekeeper". "Sir?" "You may consider buying my slavegirl". "Sir!" "For one dollar. Cheap, isn't it, considering that you can keep her for another fifteen years?" "I don't know what to say, Sir!" "But you may want to keep her longer than that". "For ever and ever, Sir!" "So I thought, and that being the case I'll advise you to marry her". "But we can't, Sir, she's a slave!" "Yes you can, and if you as her master take her as your legal wife, she'll be free, provided that she doesn't divorce you before her time as a slave is up.

Paradise!