Coming Full Circle

                                              COMING FULL CIRCLE                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                Chapter 1                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         THE DESCENT OF KARA H.

 

By CHARLES E. CAMPBELL

 

This is a work of fiction and is not intended in anyway to suggest that events portrayed here occurred anywhere except inside the mind of the author.

 

 

   Richard stood in the wings, just out of the angle in the camera shot, and surveyed His crowning achievement. A leather dog collar drooped lackadaisically from His wrist. It was clipped to the studded black leather dog collar that encircled the pale white neck of the seventeen year old blonde who knelt subserviently at His feet. He was clad in a pair of skin tight black denim jeans, button fly of course, a black leather shirt and His trademark black alligator skin cowboy boots.

 

   Before them hung the near lifeless form of His naked slave, hanging from the thick meat hooks that He had forced through the base of each of her breasts. The stream of blood that had cascaded down her body and dripped from her bare feet had slowed down considerably, and was turning a dark red as it thickened and dried. Before the slave, harsh stage lights bathed her bluish white skin in stark lighting, illuminating her for the closed circuit television cameras that were recording her sacrifice, and sending it to the two hundred or so well heeled subscribers who had each paid a quarter of a million dollars to witness first hand her suffering and execution. Monitors faced the dying slave, allowing her to witness all the gory details of her agonizing death. 

 

   As Richard watched the life slowly ebbing from her, He thought back to the past ten years, and how He, and she, had gotten to this point. A small, but sincere, smile pulled at the corners of His mouth as the recollections of al they had done brought back pleasant memories.

 

   The woman had been just twenty-three when she had, by happenstance, come into His employ as a temp for the cleaning service that held the contract to clean His sprawling summer estate. Richard hadn’t been up to the retreat more than three or four times before he noticed the diminutive young girl dusting and cleaning, polishing and vacuuming around. She looked so small and innocent in her company issued gray dress with white stockings and heavy black shoes, never seeming to interact with the other cleaning women she worked with. She never strayed from her appointed tasks, and always seemed a bit edgy and nervous. Richard watched her a few times from a distance, and then would make it a point to walk past her, closer than necessary, and secretly enjoying her efforts to get out of His way. Always trying to blend into the room. To remain unseen.

 

   Intrigued by her, Richard had His secretary do a little “research” and digging on her. He came to find that the young woman’s name was Kara, and that she had coming to the cleaning agency in utter desperation. She and her seven year old daughter were almost destitute. She had gotten pregnant while still in high school. Her parents wanted to “teach her a lesson,” so she was made to continue at school as her belly swelled. Living through the shame and comments of her classmates until she came to term. Then, after giving birth to her daughter, she was made to drop out of school and care for the child, living at home with her parents, who never missed an opportunity to remind her of how she had ruined her life and embarrassed them. A few months before she went to work at the cleaning agency, her parents had died in a car accident, and she was homeless. Her parent’s last cruel torment from the grave was to bequeath their modest home to a cousin in another state, who put the house on the market, and forced Kara and her child into a shelter.

 

   Richard was aware of Kara’s natural submissiveness long before she was, and while a solid argument could be made about His innate ability at spotting such things, Kara would have meekly explained it as her shyness, and lack of self confidence. Nevertheless, once Richard had set His sights on the frail young creature, she was almost completely unable to resist.

 

   It began with Him offering Kara a full time job in His employ as His housekeeper/maid/cook. He dismissed the cleaning agency and she came to work for Him. The staring salary would be the same, he didn’t want to spoil her after all, but her room and board would be included. This represented a sizeable raise to Kara, as she would no longer have to worry about budgeting for her sparse one bedroom apartment and food for her daughter and herself.

 

    Richard had the upper floor of the carriage house completely remodeled for them: new kitchen and appliances, new bath, new windows and carpeting, fresh paint and new furniture. Kara and her daughter Sydney were living better than they ever had. Richard even gave her unlimited unquestioned use of His Range Rover.

 

   To say that Kara was a diligent and responsible employee would not do her justice. Meals were always freshly prepared and tasty. She seemed to have a knack for culinary adventure. The house was immaculate, top to bottom. The laundry always done, dry cleaning and food shopping always up to date. Sydney had adjusted quickly to her new school, which was only a half mile walk if you cut through the woods and fields behind Richard’s land, which is what the child was want to do. She loved the trees and the birds that sheltered there. She loved to play in the stream that marked the eastern boundary of the property, searching for frogs and salamanders in the cold water.

 

   Most days, Kara had the house to herself, as Richard left for work early and was never home before 8:00 in the evening. Many nights He would just stay in the city in an apartment He maintained just for that purpose. Kara had continued to wear her matronly looking gray cleaning uniform everyday as she saw it as her status to be so identified by it. One morning, about a month after she started working for Him, Richard didn’t go into work, He slept in, and waited until Sydney had left for school. When He was sure the child had gone, He went to the kitchen, clad only in a pair of light cotton pajama bottoms, leaving His highly defined upper body exposed.

 

   All morning Richard was aware of how hard Kara was working at forcing herself not to look at His body. She never looked Him straight in the eye anyway, but this was much more obvious. He could see her struggling not to look, but succumbing anyway. To add to her discomfort, he went out of His way to engage her in conversation, asking if the apartment was to her liking, id she was acclimated to the stores in town that she would frequent, if Sydney liked her new school. With every answer that she gave Him, she would try to make an excuse about having work to do and try and get past Him and make for the door, but Richard would just ask another trivial question, completely enjoying His game and watching the young girl’s unease in the situation.

 

   Richard’s house was devoid of anything that might suggest His prurient interests, except in His library. The dark oaken shelves were lined with a rather large collection of books that Kara was innocent to: The entire Gor series, The Story Of O, The Laura Reese novels, Ann Rice’s three tales, Fanny Hill, Lady Chatterly’s Lover, and many less renowned works, many in hard cover. Drawings in pencil and ink were framed and hung about the room, each one depicting women in various stages of heavy bondage or torture. On a number of occasions Richard had caught Kara staring at the pictures and leafing through the books, but she never saw Him watching her.

 

   And so, one day, He decided that it was time to set His plan into motion. One morning, after He had left for the city, Kara found a note He had left for her on the kitchen table. Upon reading the note, Kara learned that He was planning a small dinner for Saturday night and that there would be three guests. They would arrive at about 7:00 and dinner was to be served promptly at 8:00.  He outlined the specific seating arrangement for the guests, which crystal she was to use, which wines were to be decanted and served, and what the main course was to be. She was not at all surprised by His details because she had prepared dinners for His guests three or four times in the past, and each time He had very clear requirements for the evening. He had always tipped her generously at those dinners as well, so Kara was excited about the prospects for the evening.

 

   In her excitement, Kara almost missed the small postscript at the bottom of the page. He had scribbled, almost as an afterthought: “I wish to do something about that hideous uniform you insist on wearing. It is not consistent with my plans for the evening. Therefore, I have taken the liberty of selecting a more appropriate uniform for you. I have left it in the hall closet. You will wear this, just as it is, at the dinner Saturday night, and you will do this because it pleases Me for you to do so. Remove it to the library and try it on.”

 

   Kara’s mouth went instantly dry and a sickening feeling rose in her stomach. Had she done something wrong? Wash he somehow displeased with her? Dropping the note, she scurried out of the kitchen and down the long hallway to the closet. She opened the door and saw a garment bag hanging there that didn’t belong.   Removing it from the hook, she brought it into the library as he had instructed.

 

   When she opened the bag, it revealed a classic French Maid’s costume: black short dress with e lace trimmed back seamed stockings. But when she removed it from the bag, she noticed some very subtle differences. The blouse was a diaphanous material, with short sleeves that puffed at the shoulders. The dress itself was very short, not quite reaching to mid-thigh. The stockings were thigh highs, and were no where near the hem of the dress in height, thus assuring that the straps from the garter belt would be clearly exposed. The shoes were four inch black patent leather spike heels, with a wide strap that had a chrome buckle that would fasten just above the ankle. To finish off the ensemble, a black velvet choker with red details would be worn on her neck. As she stared wide eyed at the outfit, she realized that there was no bra or panties included in the bag. He intended for her to be nude underneath it.

 

   She plopped back against the couch, visibly shaken, and saw a small envelope yet in th bag, with her name on it. The note inside simply read: “It will, in all probability be a  long evening, so you should arrange for a  sitter for Sydney.”

 

   In a panic, Kara quickly went to each window in the library and pulled the heavy maroon drapes closed across each one. She turned on the desk lamp and undressed herself, folding her gray uniform neatly and placing it gently on the sofa, before dressing in her new costume. The garter belt and stockings were first, followed by the blouse and dress, which all fit her perfectly. Then she sat down and buckled on the heels tightly around her legs. She tied the velvet choker around her neck and stood up slowly and deliberately. Her first steps were tentative, as she was so unaccustomed to heels. Walking down the hall to the foyer bathroom with the full length mirror, the only sound was the sharp tap tap tap of the heels on the hardwood floor. She was shocked at the transformation that greeted her in the reflection. The pale white skin of her thighs was in vivid contrast to the black dress, the garter belt and stockings. Her equally pale neck was highlighted by the black and red trimmed accents of the velvet choker. Her breasts were clearly naked, but subtlety hidden by the blouse.

 

   The first thoughts that ran through her mind were, “I can’t do this. I look like a hooker. I can’t let Richard see me like this, and certainly not in front of His guests.”

 

   Her mind whirled round in the quandary she faced. Should she stand up for her rights? Would He dismiss her? Should she take the first step and quit? And then, ever so slowly, she remembered what He had written at the end of His note; “you will do this because it pleases me for you to do so.”

 

   What did it mean? Was there really a capital M in me. Was this somehow related to the books and pictures in the library? Ever so slowly, she retraced her steps back to the library, fully cognizant of how her breasts were bouncing freely with each step. When she got back to the sofa, she removed the costume, put it back on the hanger, and zipped it back into the garment bag and then re-hung. it in the closet.

 

   Before returning to her chores, Kara went back and stood before the mirror, studying her image in the frumpy uniform. She knew she looking tempting, even hot in the French Maid’s costume, so maybe.........?

 

   The rest of the week passed quietly enough. In fact, Richard called and said He would be out of town on business and would not return until early on Saturday afternoon. He asked if there was anything she needed for Saturday night, and she told Him no, that she had it all set up. He then asked if she had any questions. She paused for a moment and then answered that she didn’t. He said, “I’m looking forward to seeing you.” Then, He hung up.

   Kara got Sydney comfortably set up with her favorite sitter, and the set about making the final preparations for the dinner. The meal was cooking, the table was set, and the bar stocked by 4:30, so she decided to take a leisurely shower before dressing in her costume. So she used the guest bath, rather than return to the carriage house apartment.

 

   She took the extra time to apply some make-up, something she hadn’t given any thought to since she had started working for the cleaning service. Standing in the vanity mirror applying her eye shadow, she caught sight of her copious bush, and decided that she should do something to lessen it’s visibility under the apron. Then she donned the costume and stood before a full length mirror inspecting herself. A long forgotten sensation tingled in her lower belly as she gazed at herself in the mirror. Her nipples were very hard and were very obvious even to a casual glance through the flimsy white blouse, and the apron and skirt seemed even shorter than when she had first tried them on only a few days earlier. The hem not being only a few inches below her uncovered crotch. She still hadn’t mastered the heels, so she walked carefully from the dressing room and down the back staircase to the kitchen.

 

   The front doorbell rang at about 5:20 and Kara went to answer it. She stepped back in shock when she saw what awaited her. A heavy-set black woman dressed in a bright crimson red corset and thigh high black patent leather boots stood at the door, and in her hand she held a studded leash that was clipped to the ring that was imbedded at the tip of the penis of a white man in a black leather hood with a zipper across his mouth. He was a solid six foot two inches tall and weighed about 160 pounds. His nipples were pierced as well with hoop rings that had silver bells dangling from them. He wore buckskin chaps that left his sex completely exposed, and a heavy chrome weight was clamped somehow around his scrotum, stretching his balls at least four inches below his cock. He bore brands on his chest just above each nipple that appeared to be a monogram of some sort.

 

   Kara suddenly realized that she was staring, so she pulled her eyes away, but they landed back on the black woman. It was then that she noticed the whip that dangled from her belt.

 

   “What are you gawking at chile’” the women demanded firmly? “I am a guest of Sir Richard, the Master of this house, and I do not approve of your rudeness!”

 

   Kara was so stunned that she hesitated a few more moments, then she held the door open and stepped aside stammering, “wo......won’t y...you p...please..c....c.come in?”

 

    “That’s more like it, chile’. If you’re planning on being in Sir Richard’s employ for very long, you’d be best to study up on your etiquette.” 

 

   The woman pushed past Kara with the naked man, leaving Kara trembling as she closed the door. Kara immediately ducked into the half bath in the foyer and tried to find some solace in the mirror. What was going on? What had she gotten herself into? She pulled up her dress and squatted on the toilet, and it was then that she realized that she was wet from what she had just witnessed.

 

   Just as she was getting straightened out in the toilet, the front doorbell rang again, Kara hurried to answer it, and was greeted by a slender and distinguished looking gentleman of about sixty years. He was wearing a fine fitting three piece suit, complete right down to the gold watch chain that spanned across the vest on his narrow waist. He had silver white hair and a meticulously trimmed matching white full face beard. To His left, and standing slightly behind Him, was a naked woman, also about sixty years old. She was about five foot four and weighed a bit under one hundred pounds. Kara’s eyes widened when she caught sight of the woman’s missing left breast. The harsh tight scars of a radical mastectomy shining in the light. She was in shackles and her feet were hobbled by leg irons on a short, but stout chain.

 

   “Good evening, young lady,” the gentleman’s deep baritone voice boomed, “I am Sir Edmund, and this is the lady catherine. We are expected.”

 

   “Ce....certainly, s..s...sir. P..please, won’t you c...come in?”

 

   Kara was unable to control her stammering at what was unfolding before her eyes. Her mind was racing as she watched the couple make their way to the living room. And just as she was about to close the heavy front door, she spotted another couple walking up to the door. One of the women was dressed in a light pastel sun dress all in subtle blues and greens, that showed off her richly tanned skin. She wore a broad brimmed hat and carried a folded parasol. But it was the other woman who completely threw Kara. She was naked, and her body bore absolutely no body hair. Her pubis and head were shining in the rapidly ebbing light. Both of her breasts had been run through with a thick steel rod with large round caps on the ends. Heavy U shaped clasps hung from the bar and encircled her breasts. Her breasts were both heavily scared. One in a vicious haphazard fashion, and the other seemed to have been done in an intentionally and carefully applied series of patterns.

 

   The two women brushed Kara aside and walked down the hallway to join the assemblage. Kara was trembling now, as she closed the door. Her heart was racing in her chest, seemingly out of control. She was frightened, yet excited, nervous yet aroused, confused, yet curious. And incredibly wet. Her pussy was wetter than it had been in a very long time. It was in this befuddled state that Kara realized that she had only set four place settings at the table, and there were six guests plus Sir Richard. She was sure that the amount of food she had prepared wouldn’t serve seven either! She joined Sir Richard and His guests in the living room in hopes of asking Him what she should do. She found the three naked people kneeling in a corner of the room, facing the wall. Richard was pouring drinks for His friends. Kara caught His eye, and discreetly asked about the discrepancy in the seating. Richard answer quite matter-of-factly the “slaves” would not be sitting at the table, and that their meal, and He emphasized the word meal, would be provided for them.

 

   Kara went back to the kitchen to get the hors d’oeuvres and bring them back to the living room. She noted that she didn’t seem the least bit self conscious about her provocative dress. But then, she reasoned, how could she be, when there were two naked women and a naked man in the corner, and they were being totally ignored!

 

   When the appetizer had been set out on the table, Kara announced that the meal was ready, and she watched as the guests retrieved their slaves and brought them into the dining room, where they assumed positions under the table. As Cara cleared the plates from the appetizers, and started bringing in the main course, she couldn’t help but notice that the three slaves were performing oral sex on the guests at the table while they ate their meals and carried on light conversation!

 

    “I think that the lady catherine’s mouth is warmer, Richard,” the elderly gentleman remarked.

 

   “I must disagree, Edmund,” the woman in the sun dress recounted emphatically. “Richard, would you be a dear and be the judge?”

 

   “Of course, Ilsa. It would be my pleasure.

 

   “Lady Catherine,” the elderly man ordered, “service Sir Richard.”

 

   “Yes, Sir Edmund,” she replied from under the table, crawling on all fours to the head of the table.

 

   “She is quite talented, Sir Edmund,” Richard remarked after a few minutes. A very lught tongue and she’s very generous with her saliva as well.”

 

   “If that’s all You can come up with Richard, then you certainly have a great surprise coming,” Ilsa chimed in. “Slut was better than that when she was fourteen! Slut.....!”

 

    The woman with the pierced breasts pushed the elderly woman aside and began vigorously sucking Sir Richard. Within fifteen seconds, he proclaimed, “Ilsa.....You are absolutely right. She has the most incredible mouth I have ever experienced!

 

   “I’m sorry Sir Edmund, but Ilsa is right. Her slave is the best fellatrix I have ever enjoyed.” A loud moan escaped from Sir Richard as He came in her eager mouth. Slut, of course, kept sucking until every drop had been consumed.

 

   Kara blanched at what she had witnessed and hurried out of the dining room, under an obviously false pretext of having to clear the dishes. When she returned with the tea and coffee, Richard, Ilsa, Sir Edmund and Mistress Chantelle were alone. Their slaves were no longer there with them. The bits and pieces of conversation that Kara overheard seemed to relate to proper techniques for teaching slaves, male and female, to perform fellatio, how to prolong the performance, and how to control the onset of ejaculation. Kara was completely stunned by what she had seen and was now hearing. Each time she retreated to the “safety” of the kitchen, she had to remain there a few minutes to compose herself before going back to the dining room with desserts and wine. But what troubled her most, was that she somehow felt compelled to return. To listen. To watch. To learn?

 

   When the meal had ended, and Kara had cleared the table, Richard stood and asked, “Shall we retire to the den?”

 

   Everyone seemed in accord and as they stood, Richard turned to Kara and said,” Please go to the living room and return with the slaves.”

 

   The flabbergasted look on Kara’s face was instantly caught by Mistress Chantelle, who said, “What’s the matter with you, ‘chile? You never seen a white mandingo before? Maybe if Richard would like, we’ll let him mate with you and let find our what he can do with his thang!”

 

   “Kara isn’t ready for that quite yet, Chantelle,” Richard interrupted. In fact, tonight is breaking a lot of new ground that she has to ingest.”

 

   “I don’t care, Richard. She’s a young full blooded woman, and a full blooded woman’s got’s ta get taken care of. Don’t matter if she’s a slave or free. Don’t matter at all! ‘Sides, she don’t seem ta be havin’ no trouble at all prancin’ aroun’ in that short little dress an’ apron. Struttin’ her stuff. An’ iff’n my eyes don’t lie, I’d say she even trimmed that little fur patch a bit to fit her costume, an’ you didn’t tell her to do that, now did you, Richard?”

 

   “No. No I didn’t.”

 

   “You’ll be ownin’ Kara inside of a month, Richard, you mark my words,” Chantelle boasted over her shoulder as she left the room. “She’ll be doin’ every which thang you all want.”

 

   A shudder surged across Kara’s shoulders as the meaning of Lady Chantelle’s words sunk in. Quickly she exited out towards the living room, suddenly aware of just how wet she was.

 

   Kara brought the slaves to the den, and spent the remainder of the evening cleaning the dining room, doing the dishes, and refilling wine glasses and coffee cups. Each time she would go into the den, she would witness seem new and undreamed of spectacle, from breast binding to anal sex, and  genital whipping, both male and female.

 

   When the evening had ended, and the last guests had departed, Richard handed her an envelope, and said, “I appreciate your help tonight. I hope it wasn’t too much for you.”

 

   Keeping her eyes down, she replied softly, “I........it was fine, ..........S..........S........ Sir Richard.”

 

   Her formal answer made Him pause for a moment, looking straight into her eyes. “Look at Me,” He commanded.

 

   Kara’s eyes slowly met His. He held her gaze for a moment and then asked, “Was Lady Chantelle correct in Her assessment of you, Kara? Do you wish to explore My world?”

 

    A distinct flutter in her stomach caused her to swallow hard, but her rock hard nipples and the ache in her sopping wet pussy reassured her as she knelt before Him and answered, “Please.”