THE HANDLER
"I'm here to see Jon and Traci." I stammered quickly, going beet-red. Not
meeting the cold green eyes that looked down from above me. Thick, shaggy
dark-hair. I hoped to God, I had the right house.
"Come in." He ordered and I did so immediately. Standing in the foyer with my
bag. The broad wooden door was pushed shut behind me and a big hand closed on
the back of my neck. I fell to my knees quickly, bowing my head. "When that
door closes from now on, you're `property,' and property is never on its feet
without special permission."
"Good thing I'm not the Avon lady." I quipped over my shoulder sarcastically,
hearing a soft chuckle behind me.
"That's five for insubordination." I bit my lip. `Shit.' I thought. "Any other
amusing comments?" He said in a low purposeful voice.
"No. Sir." I said through tightly clenched teeth. Unsure of his title. Who was
this guy?
"I am your Handler and you can address me as such."
"Yes, Handler." Handler? Horses had handlers but wait, I had read about them
in that packet and Jon had said something about assigning someone to me to groom
me last week at our little vanilla playtime. Someone to bathe me and such. It
couldn't be him, could it? Not this gorgeous specimen of male flesh. Tall,
broad. Big. I damn near fainted at the sudden lack of air in my lungs.
"Follow me. They are waiting for you in the study. I don't have to remind you
to do it on your knees, do I?"
"No, Handler." I said and put the duffel bag handle between my teeth, trying
desperately to keep up with him. Down the long, dark hallway. The marble tile
harsh under my hands and knees. So much for my panty hose. At least, I knew
where I was going. I had been to the study last weekend. It was the other
rooms of the house, which the mere thought of, turned my body into drenching
quivering submission.
The Handler stood in front of the door and knocked softly. I heard Jon say.
"Bring her in."
<<<<<>>>>>
The door opened before me and I followed Adam into the study. Same soft carpet
that I had felt before. Traci, dressed in a blue leather mini-dress, sitting on
the sofa in relaxation. Jon standing by the fireplace in soft black leather
pants that were molded to his body like he wore them a lot. Soft white billowy
shirt open at the throat. They were smiling as though anticipating my arrival.
They probably had, but not as much as I did. The low buzz of sexual tension in
my body went up a notch. Traci stood and came to stand before us. Looking down
at me coldly. I felt my heart triple its rate in my chest. She was so much more
frightening than Jon was. Colder, more calculating. She was just more. I kept
my eyes down looking at very expensive thigh high boots of black patent encasing
her strong calves. I kissed the boot quickly, just because it was close enough
to do so without falling on my face. Nothing outlandish, just a quick peck on
the toe to show my respect.
"Did you bring back the things I gave you last week?" I dropped the duffel bag
from my teeth to the floor to answer her, quickly. Urgently speaking in a low
and hopefully respectful voice.
"Yes, Mistress." I opened the duffel bag taking out the folder that I had put
everything into. Putting it into my mouth before gently giving it to her.
"Did you memorize the page of rules?" I saw her pick up the folder, hearing it
being opened over my head.
"Yes, mistress." She asked me to kneel up and hold my head straight to recite
the rules. I did it letter perfect, I thought. Keeping my eyes below the level
of their chest. They read while I did this. My voice clear in the quiet room.
Traci held the list of options that they had given me. Her eyes narrowing and
she drew a sharp intake of breath. When she spoke, her voice was clinically
hard.
"You marked several items, No, on this list. I will go over them one-by-one,
asking your reasons. If they are valid they may be considered. However the
wishes of those above you will come first." She looked down at the list before
her. I answered her respectfully. "Age play?" Was the first item on the
alphabetical list.
"I have no interest in being with, or being considered, a child. I am a
consenting adult and feel any activity that uses me as a child is perverted."
Jon chuckled, repeating the word, perverted, under his breath. I tried not to
laugh at the amusement in his tone. It was kind of funny.
"Daddy/girl?" That was the only thing on the list that actually made me queasy.
Yuck.
"If you had met my daddy, Mistress. You wouldn't have to ask." I quipped
lightly feeling a rough hand on the back of my neck. Forcing my head to the
floor harshly. Adam's flinty voice over my head.
"That's five more, Annie, for disrespect. Keep it up." The Handler sounded
pissed and I groveled quickly. Not wanting to spend the rest of the night on
any one of the big punishment crosses I saw in the basement last weekend.
"Forgive me, Mistress. I meant no disrespect to you, Mistress." She read the
last of the items. Public Sex. (What would the guys at the office say?)
Shaving. (I like the hair between my legs. It's an old friend.) Tickling. (Too
much like vanilla sex for me, thank you very much.) I heard her speaking to Jon
in a low voice.
"Your discussion list will be handled as it comes up. Any items that you do not
recognize will be explained to you. The house doctor has been contacted, and
Adam will take you on Thursday night." She paused and composed her words
carefully for full effect. "For this next month, you will consider yourself the
property of Jon." I felt an unknown tension fall from my shoulders with relief.
A feeling of dread that I had not even known I felt leave me quickly. I lay my
head against the carpet for a moment. [Thank you, Traci.] I thought. "All
initial training and tasks will be assigned by him and for his pleasure. Do you
understand?"
"Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress." She laughed softly. As though my relief
had been a tangible thing in the air. She ordered Adam to clean me up and get
me out of the work-stained clothes that I was in. Her voice filled with a mild
disgust that a slave would dare be in her presence in clothing. I again picked
up the duffel bag with my teeth.
"I'll have her in the training class in an hour, Traci." Adam turned abruptly
and I kept up with difficulty. Staying to his left side at heel. Standard
`Pet' behavior. I would have no higher reason until I earned it. I tried to
let my thoughts go blank, but I could not. What the hell was the training
class? I kept looking for calmness. Trying to leave the smart-ass work
attitude outside. It was going to be difficult.
