Fantasy Web Site

© 2009 by J8 Clip

Codes: M+/f, B/D, nudity, whipping, suspension, slavery

Dramatis Personae

James Faribault, accountant

Carol, secretary by day, slavegirl

Doug Sterling, owner, operator of a web site

Stephanie, slavegirl

Anne, slavegirl

Melody, slavegirl and webmistress

In which James Finds a Closed Door

Early afternoon, I looked out my office window. The city below was white from the 20 centimeters

(about 8 inches) of snow which had already fallen. It was heavy, wet snow and the heavens

were alive with lightning and thunder. Even though it was the peak of our season, I decided

to send everyone home. I own a small accounting firm. A long holiday weekend was coming up,

and no one was doing any work anyway. Everyone, including me, was looking out windows

wondering how they were going to get home.

Because I am a creature of habit, I still lived in the apartment I once shared with my ex-wife. It

is about 35 kilometers (a little over 20 miles) away, and I did not look forward to the trip. I

walked out of my office and sat on the edge of my secretary’s desk. “It doesn’t look like it is going

to stop anytime soon,” she said. I replied, “Tell everyone to go home, or to a hotel, a homeless

shelter, whatever.”

She picked up the phone and dialed the number of the PA system. “The boss says skedaddle;

school’s out for today.” She is a little girl, about 157 (5' 2”) centimeters, with light brown hair

styled today in a bun on top of her head. She is modest and unassuming. Her figure is also

modest, but perfectly proportioned. She has had some sort of relationship since before I hired

her, so I kept a tight rein on my fantasies about her as a replacement for the wife who walked out

on me.

She put down the phone and stood up, tugging briefly at her skirt. “Come home with me. We

have a couch in the den which is big enough for a night’s sleep, and it is only a couple hundred

meters away.”

“Thank you, Carol, but I’ll try to get to my place or a hotel.”

“Please, boss? My domestic lord and master is at home today cooking, and I doubt if our guests

will be able to make it. He will be devastated if his cooking is not appreciated.”

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“Won’t you appreciate it?”

“Of course, but my approval doesn’t feed his ego. Please?”

Since I really was not looking forward to fighting my way to a lonely and quite messy apartment,

I accepted her gracious invitation. Little did I know what I was getting into. In the cloakroom,

she stepped out of her office heels and into high heeled boots which reached almost to her knees.

(Apparently, she kept several pairs of heeled shoes at the office; I don’t pay much attention to the

comings and leavings of my employees.) She put on a long fur coat and noticed me simply

watching her. “Well?”

In response, I put on rubber boots and a light weight top coat. I firmly believe that spring will

not come unless one expects it to, so I had not expected this storm. We went down to the ground

floor and started walking. It was difficult going, made particularly difficult for her by her boots;

several times, she fell against me and I had to help her upright. It seemed like hours, but when

we finally arrived at the door of her cooperative building, it had only taken a half hour.

I could not believe the richness of her unit when she unlocked the door and gestured me in. I am

not stingy in pay, but what I do pay her could not make any significant contribution to even the

maintenance fee. She called out loudly, “My Lord?” After a moment, a deep voice answered

“Yes, Carol?”

“He followed me home. Can I keep him?”

She took my coat and hung it in the closet. I took off my boots, and she put them in the closet as

well. My pants were soaked and encrusted with snow; I could at least knock the snow off. As I

was doing so, a tall, stocky man came into the entrance hall. He glanced at me, and then asked

her “Do we know him?”

“He is my work lord and master.”

This creature was about four centimeters taller than me, but he had many more kilograms on me;

and all of it seemed to be muscle. He held out his hand and said, “Then welcome.” I took his

hand, and I think we were both startled to exchange “a certain friendly and brotherly grip.” He

looked at me for a long moment, and then turned to my secretary and said, “Carol, go about your

duties. We will be in the library.” Looking back to me, he said, “Come with me.”

I followed him into a room which was a library. It is not quite two stories tall, lined with overflowing

bookshelves. The desk, in the middle, was piled with books. Two chairs were before

the fireplace, in which a merry fire was burning. When we were near his desk, he turned to me

and said, “Give me the word.”

Of course, it isn’t that simple. If I had just given him the word, I probably would have been back

out in the snow, trying to get back to my apartment. We went through a bit of ritual (you will un-

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derstand that I will not record it here --- a lot of people know the word) and we convinced each

other that we were Brothers. “So what is your name,” he asked.

“James Faribault.”

“Very well. My name is Doug Sterling. Carol has told me a lot about her daytime lord Faribault,

and I am delighted beyond words to meet you. Brother Faribault, I have many secrets, and you

are going to be extremely surprised and possibly delighted. Can I ask you to consider your stay

here this weekend to be covered as secrets communicated as such?”

“Of course.”

“Then what would you like to drink?”

“Brandy?”

“Excellent choice!” He picked up the phone from the cluttered desk and said, “Have Carol come

to the library. She is to wear her uniform.”

“Let us sit by the fire until Carol joins us.” The chairs were incredibly comfortable. He asked,

“How much have you studied the Craft?”

“I don’t think I study it very much. So much of the 'research' is trivial and uninteresting. The

older stuff is mere speculation. I try to ...” My voice choked off as Carol entered the room carrying

a tray. Her “uniform” appeared to consist of high heeled shoes. White. Very high heeled.

Pointy toes.

Doug smiled and said, “Go ahead, James: look at her. She is just a slave.” He paused for a few

seconds. “She is not my wife, mother, sister or daughter; and, as a slave, she has no chastity to

be violated. As one of my many avocations, I display my slaves to others interested in bondage

and discipline. At least for this weekend, I’d like you to help me.”

“I don’t understand,” James said, still avoiding looking directly at his secretary’s body.

Doug continued. “A couple of years ago, I got tired of business and cashed out. I called it an

early retirement. I collected a few slavegirls to amuse me. Business apparently wasn’t ready to

retire me. We opened a kinky sex network site. There are cameras all over the house, except this

library, the entrance, and the guest suite off of the entrance. It is quite successful. Carol, bring

us brandies.”

Carol went over to what appeared to be a wall of books. Part of it was fake; at the press of a button,

the “books” dropped down into the floor, revealing a full bar. She brought a snifter over to

me, knelt on one knee, and held it out to me. When I took it, she repeated the performance for

Doug.

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“Carol, find your deeds and bring them over to James. I’d like you to glance through these so

you are familiar with the girls. My primary activity for the next few hours is dinner, so I will be

excusing myself.” Carol knelt before me, holding out four thick folders. I took them. She and

Doug both stood and walked out of the library. On his way out, Doug said, “I’ll answer your

questions later.”

I started with Carol’s folder, setting the others aside. Opening it, I found that the first page was

sort of a “mug shot,” except that it showed all of Carol’s body, front, back, and right profile.

Flipping quickly through the pages, I found that most were pictures and medical reports. She

was in good health.

The sheet at the back of the folder, the oldest, was a certified copy of the court order which had

condemned Carol to slavery. I was astounded to find that Carol’s crime was embezzling 300,000

crowns, and she was working for my accounting firm. I wondered how she had gotten her bond,

even for her job as a secretary. I decided that I would have to do more careful background

checks, even if the bonding company was happy.

I quickly glanced through the other three "deeds". In the words of a wise man, each was prettier

than the other. One had been condemned for drunk driving, one for chronic shoplifting, and one

to pay off a loan she had guaranteed for her brother.

I had just finished looking at the deeds when Stephanie came in, dressed in the house uniform. I

wondered if perhaps there was a camera in the room, so the slavegirls could anticipate their master's

whims. After I set aside the last deed, I had also drained the brandy. However, in this case,

Stephanie said, "Master wants me to take you to Carol. Would you come with me please?"

As I stood up, she came over and took my hand. We walked out of the library and into the main

part of this huge apartment. She said, "I am required to remind you that you may be on camera at

any time and visible on the network." She opened a door which led into a long hall. We stopped

a couple of doors down the hall. She gestured at the door. "I am not allowed to enter this room,

but you are. You will find a pleasant surprise inside.” She opened the door for me and I entered

the room. “I must go help Master with dinner." With this, she turned away from me and walked

out of the hall.

In which James Finds Something Unexpected

I opened the door and saw nothing very surprising. There was a large sitting room with

windows overlooking the city. There was a modern fireplace between the windows. To my

right, there was a door which might have led to a bathroom. I heard Carol’s voice say, “Well

come on in; I’m waiting for you.” It came from my left, the part of the room which the door

blocked from my view.

I walked into the room, closing the door behind me, and turned to my left. There was a

platform a couple of steps higher than the rest of the room. Off of the platform, I could see a

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lady’s dressing table and an open door leading to a bathroom. There was also a large bed, from

which Carol was looking at me, spread eagled to the bed. From the angle at which I was looking

at her, her pussy was every bit as prominent as her smiling face.

“I’m your appetizer before dinner, my lord. Please enjoy me.”

I walked up the steps onto the platform and to the foot of the bed. I examined her ankle,

encased in a leather cuff. A padlock attached a chain to the cuff; the chain in turn was attached

to an eye bolt in the frame of the bed. A glance told me that her wrist was attached in the same

way. “Where are the keys?” I asked.

“Safely away from you, my lord. One of the other girls will release me after you have

used me.”

I thought about that for a moment. “I’m certain Doug would fetch me the keys if I

asked.” She nodded. “I suppose he would, but he would be terribly disappointed. For some

reason, he is going all out to please you.”

I sat down on the side of the bed and put my hand on her tummy. I already knew that I

wanted to accept this gift, but I had a couple of problems. “Carol, do you think that this is really

a good idea? If I have you once, I’ll want to have you more. I am your employer and we have

what I think is a good relationship. I don’t think either one of us wants to mess that up.”

“I don’t think it will, my lord. Having made this offer, my Master will not deny me to

you ever. Anytime you want me, you can have me. You could mess up the work relationship,

my lord, only if you made me serve you on your desk with the staff watching. During our work

hours, I would expect to deal with you as I now do; and I would expect you to keep your hands

off of me. I do not think it will become a problem, but, if it does, you can always fire me.”

I decided not to think about why she was working for me. Obviously, her Master did not

need the salary I paid her; and the bonding company was on the hook if she managed to embezzle

anything. “Let me accept that for now, Carol. There is another little problem.”

“What is that?”

“The equipment isn’t working. The notion that I would not have a rampant erection in

the presence of a nude, bound and willing girl is profoundly embarrassing.”

“Oh,” she said. “Is that all? I was worried that it was something difficult to fix. First,

blindfold me; you will find a nice one in the bottom drawer of the night stand; you won’t be

embarrassed by my nudity or yours then, my lord. Then go take a very hot shower and steam

some of that brandy out of you; the ‘equipment’ will probably work then.”

I took her advice. As I was putting on her blindfold, I was surprised to feel some stirrings

of lust in the “equipment.” Actually, I was very hungry for more brandy; instead, I walked over

to the other side of the room, where there was, indeed, another bath. She was quite right: after

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just few minutes into the shower, thinking about Carol helplessly available, I became erect. I did

finish the shower in a leisurely manner. Doug supplied warmed towels.

Returning to her bed, I again sat down on the side. This time, I rested a hand on her right

breast. “Carol, you were right. Now, what sort of foreplay is appropriate for having sex with a

borrowed slavegirl?” She said, “Whatever you choose, my lord. I get wet just being tied.” She

paused for a little bit. “Still, your hand feels nice.”

Taking that as a clue, I kissed and caressed her breasts. Under my lips, her nipples

became hard. The slightest touch of my teeth caused her to moan and to try to press herself into

me; of course, tied as she was, this did not make much difference. I got up on the bed and

arranged myself on hands and knees around her. I leaned on my elbows, my hands grasping her

shoulders. I put my lips on hers and waited for her to respond. She turned her head to the side,

about the only motion available to her, and said, “Haven’t you ever learned how to kiss?”

She moved her head back and somehow managed to suck my tongue into her mouth. I

swear I didn’t have anything to do with it. (I have since asked her to repeat that, but she either

cannot or she refuses.) She bit down, just a little bit on my tongue. To distract her, I entered her.

I can’t describe what happened next. It isn’t that I’m in the least bit embarrassed, or that I

fear the censor; I just do not have the words. I was aware that I was thrusting away at her with

strokes more vigorous than usual, but time and sensation stopped. I was vaguely aware of some

noises she was making and only slightly more aware of her muscles clenching about me. After

an unknown amount of time (but it could not have been very long at all), I spurted into her

several times, and then collapsed on top of her. My heart was pounding fast and hard, and I was

taking very deep breaths. My breathing was not as labored, though, as if I had just stopped

running. It was a very pleasant way to breathe.

I still wasn’t thinking of anything in particular, except how good it felt to breathe that

way and rest, when I heard a female voice somewhere in the distance. A loud JAMES finally

drilled through my fog. “You are a heavy lug, my lord. Can you move so I can breathe a little

better?” With an effort, I lifted myself on my arms. “Better?” I asked? “A little. Have you been

eating oysters or what?”

“It must be you or you being so strictly tied. Sex has never been like that for me, ever.”

“Thank you, my lord. I am positive you did not notice, but it was very nice for me, too.”

I rolled off of her, my head resting on one of her arms and my legs awkwardly resting

over one of her spread ones. “You had better get up and shower again, my lord. Your tuxedo is

in the closet on the other half of the room by your bathroom. While you are showering, one of

the other slaves will release me; I need to shower again and dress, too.”

“I thought you girls were never dressed.”

“We do dress for Master’s dinners.”

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Dressed for Dinner

When I emerged from the shower, Carol was no longer in the room. To my astonishment,

the tuxedo fit me perfectly. I wandered out of the room, wondering where to go. Within

moments, Anne appeared at my side. “We are in the smoking room, my lord.” As I may have

said, Anne is very short, less than 140 cm. She was wearing a white skirted suit, white high

heeled shoes which added 8 cm to her height, and a green blouse which matched the color of her

eyes. The skirt was very short, and the suit had to have built to her exact proportions. I followed

her, watching with pleasure.

I found that Carol had preceded me to the smoking room. She was wearing a royal blue,

strapless, floor length gown. While I could not see them, she must have been wearing heels. The

gown was tight, so she could not run over to me as I entered, but she tried. She stood close to me

and said, “Master suggests only Champagne before dinner. May I bring you a glass?”

"Indeed you may." Even though it was the "smoking room" and even though the air was

redolent of fine cigars, no one was smoking.

Doug had prepared a spinach salad with bacon flavored dressing, which was a delicious

start. The main course was tournedos Rossini, complete with foie gras and truffles. It was

cooked perfectly and superb. He also served each of us a baked potato and asparagus. I don't

usually like asparagus, but he served it with a sauce that made it palatable.

There was no desert. Carol was asked to bring cigars and brandy to her master and

myself; both were superb. When we were about half through the cigars, Doug informed me that

Carol was to be whipped on screen tonight, if enough subscribers paid to see. "While they are

slaves, they have personal accounts to purchase their freedom. Carol is asking our subscribers

for one hundred crowns a stroke, with a minimum of fifty. Melody, how is she doing?"

Melody, wearing a green mini-dress, stood up and went over to a terminal. After a couple

of keystrokes, she said, "She has 35 signed up for the show."

Doug said, "Girls, it is time to put the clothes away and start to work. Stephanie and

Anne, clean up the dining room and the kitchen. Melody, go back to your computer. Carol, we

will be waiting for you in the dungeon.

The Dungeon

As Doug and I entered the dungeon, he pointed out the channel through which Carol, or

any of the other girls, would be required to enter. She would have to open a door into a channel

about two feet high and crawl into it. She would have to allow the door to close behind her,

entrapping her until the door before her was opened. The top of the tunnel was of glass; Doug

informed me that this allowed him to inspect the girls for proper nudity.

Shortly after we entered the dungeon, Carol knocked on the door. He checked her

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through the glass, and shortly opened the tiny door on the dungeon side. He called out to the

ceiling, "How is Carol's bidding doing?" A voice from the ceiling reported that she had 42

subscribers for her whipping.

"There isn't much time left," Carol said. "Would you guys get me ready? That might get

more subscribers." Doug nodded his assent, but I interrupted. "Why is Carol so eager for a

whipping?" I asked.

Doug talked to me as he prepared Carol. "All of the girls have crown accounts where

they can save to purchase their freedom. Carol will earn 5,000 crowns for her whipping, less my

10% fee. I have set lower prices for the girls to purchase themselves than for an someone else.

The prices for outsiders are, for all practical purposes, prohibitive. The accounts are in their

folders, if you want to check. Of course, they can spend the money any way they wish, but I

provide an allowance for outside clothing, food, and miscellaneous expenses." (That explained

why Carol was always so well dressed at work.)

By this time, Doug had put padded cuffs on Carol's wrists and attached them to a trapeze

bar suspended from the ceiling. He walked over to a wall, saying, "This is a surprisingly

lucrative business, especially for the girls. Two slaves purchased their freedom from me over the

last year." He pushed a button, and lifted Carol until her feet were about three feet off of the

floor.

Carol commented, "What he won't tell you is that he gives the money back to the girl as a

stake for her new life."

Doug said, "Carol, your viewers are going to get five free strokes for that, if you get your

limit." He went over to her and tied her legs together at ankles and above and below her knees.

"In order to keep the money rolling in, after the minimum is reached, viewers can buy more

strokes."

At that moment, a loudspeaker give off a "Ka-Ching" sound and the webmistress

announced, "We have 51 subscribers." Doug walked back over to the wall again and lowered

Carol until her toes just touched the floor. Saying "Turn on the subscriber feed," he took a

paddle from the wall and administered a hard blow to her bottom, driving the paddle from the

floor to the underside of her bottom. After nine more strokes to her fanny, he walked over to the

wall and hung the paddle up. He took down an instrument from the wall, a stick with four broad

strips of soft leather attached. Unexpectedly, he tossed it to me. "Please give her ten on her

back; this will sting, but it won't damage her."

Never having whipped anyone before, I was a little uncertain what to do. The flogger

was about as long as a baseball bat, and I didn't want to disappoint either Doug or Carol. So I

took a swing as if I were trying to bat a ball over the fence. That was too hard: Carol had taken

Doug's strokes with only slight gasps; she screamed at mine. Doug encouraged me: "Wonderful

stroke, James; that's what the audience likes to see and hear."

I was shaken by the scream, so the next stroke was more like a bunt. Carol took a deep

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breath and said in a quiet voice, "Webmistress, we won't count that one." I was astounded by her

honesty; she really wanted to please the customers. "Don't hold back, James; it just prolongs the

session."

She screamed twice during the next nine, but she allowed all to be counted.

I handed the flogger back to Doug. He put it away, came back with the paddle and

administered ten more to her fanny. He then got a whip which ended in a very thin strip of

leather. This he slapped, hard, against the soles of her feet. She attempted to curl her feet out of

the way, but his aim always accurately followed. Every one of these strokes elicited a scream

from her: he waited long enough between strokes for her to recover enough to scream again. It

was clear that both he and Carol were very practiced a this.

He handed the thin little whip to me, and said, "Five on each breast, please." She winced

at each stroke, but she neither screamed at them nor declined them.

The scoreboard on the wall now stood at1 50. Doug flipped a switch, and told me, “We

are now without sound. "Webmistress, how many additional strokes have been purchased, and

any special requests?"

The voice from the ceiling said, "Five more, plus your free five, and one special request."

"What is the special request?"

"Some pervert wants to buy strokes to her face; I could understand our genitals, but I

think this is really sick."

"Webmistress, your customers are not perverts." She replied, "Yes, Master, I'm sorry,

Master." Doug continued, "But that is truly sick, so decline the offer on my behalf. Be nice."

Carol piped up. "How much did he offer?"

Doug said, "It doesn't matter; I decline."

"How much, Webmistress?"

"A thousand crowns, Carol."

"For how many?"

"Ten."

"Webmistress, our Master has said 'Be nice.' I wish he hadn't."

1 10 by Doug on her fanny, 10 by me on her back, 10 more by Doug on her fanny, 10 by Doug on her feet, and 10

by me on her breasts.

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Doug cut in. "Webmistress, you don't need to be nice." After a moment, he said, "You

have ten more coming. You do not have to, but would you like to reward your subscribers with

them on your genitals?"

"Webmistress," Carol asked, "did that go out on the audio feed?"

"No, Carol."

"Then, Master, just on my bottom, please."

Doug flipped the switch to enable the sound feed again. He applied five to her fanny with

the paddle and gave me the soft flogger for the last five. I made each of them as hard as I could,

but the angle wasn't as good as for her back. She only screamed once.

"Cut the real-time feed, Webmistress," Doug said. He lowered Carol and released her

from her bondage. She came over to me and threw her arms around my neck and made her lips

available for my kiss. When we came up for air, she said, "Thank you, James." She then went

over to Doug, behaved in like manner, and said, "Thank you, Master."

James' Evening Continues

Anne knocked at the entrance to the dungeon. Doug said to me, “Anne and Stephanie will entertain

our subscribers until midnight, when we start showing repeats. The subscribers who were

too cheap to buy Carol's strokes will be able to see the show if they stay up until about 3:00.

Please pick up Carol outside the dungeon and let her entertain you. Remember that you will be

on camera except in the library, the entrance hall, and the guest suite. I hope you will use Carol's

suite, and Carol this evening.”

He walked over to the tunnel and opened it to take Anne out and put Carol in. I left the dungeon

and opened the tunnel door for Carol. “I will wait for you in the smoking room. Go get your

file, a pair of handcuffs, and leg irons.” In a few minutes, she returned with her file and the restraints.

I took the file from her.

“Put on the restraints, hands behind your back,” I said. When she had complied, I continued,

“Stand with your feet as far apart as the leg irons allow. Be silent until I ask you a direct question.”

I opened the file to her account sheet. She had a healthy balance built up already, and the 5,000

crowns from tonight would put her over the top. Of course, she would still be a slavegirl, but a

slave who owns herself is almost completely free; she can't vote, or work for the government, but

otherwise she can do whatever she wants.

“You can buy yourself. What are you going to do?” I asked.

She replied, “I will continue to be Master's slave, and continue to work for you. I like being his

slave, and I like working for you. I even like the whippings and other things done to me. The

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only difference will be starting to tithe at church. Well, he will start an investment account for

me; as a slavegirl, I can't formally own anything.”

I was silent for a minute or so, when she started to talk again. “I hesitate to mention this, but

Melody could also purchase herself, but has chosen not to. She could get a very high salary in

the computer business, but she also prefers to be a slavegirl. And I hate to mention this, but our

lord and master would expect you to make use of all of us slaves, however and whenever you

wish.”

Now I was silent for a long time. “I must punish you for speaking not in answer to a direct question.

When do you suppose Melody would be available?”

“Anytime after the site goes on repeats, sir.”

“Where do you keep nipple clamps?”

“There are some in the third drawer from the bottom of the storage cabinet in front of you.”

I caressed her nipples to hardness, and put the clamps on. She did not wince at all. Each clamp

had a bell dangling from it. “I am going to put your file back. Wait patiently.”

After about 15 minutes, I returned, carrying some brandy, and a glass of ice water for Carol. I

put the glass to her lips, and said, “Drink.” She finished about half of the glass and looked at me

with gratitude. “Do you feel your punishment has been sufficient?

“Sir, punishments should always be doled out as soon after the infraction as possible, so you did

well. However, it is a very light punishment. At the very least, make me walk around to ring the

bells and add a little bit more pain.”

“Very well, do so.” I did enjoy watching her and hearing the bells. When the clock chimed midnight,

I said, “Contact Melody, and ask if she can come to your suite.” She kept moving her

torso as she did. When she finished the contact, she did not say anything.

The Next Day Again Startles James

When I woke up, I found Carol was already awake. She was laying on her side, hands bound behind

her, ankles bound together, and her neck tethered to the foot of the bed. “My Lord, there is

a message waiting on the telephone. Dial *41 to listen to it,” Carol said.

Doing so, I heard Doug saying, “I would like to have Carol today. Please have her shower,

shave, and do her hair. Tell her to report, in uniform, to the library, but after she delivers

Stephanie to you.” I related this information to her.

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She stood, came close to me, and hugged me. “You should shower and dress. There are clothes

for you in the closet. I'll be ready in about 15 minutes.” So I started the (late) morning walking

beside the naked Carol wearing a pin stripe business suit. Carol led me to Stephanie's suite. She

took a key from beside the door and unlocked it. Stephanie was sitting on her bed, naked. Carol

directed her to stand and tied her wrists behind her back. She added a delicate collar and a leash.

Leading Stephanie to me, she handed me the leash. “Our master has given Stephanie some ideas

about how she can serve you today.”

Carol walked quickly away from us.

Stephanie, tastefully attired in the red rope binding her wrists and the red scrunchy holding her

hair in a pony tail, took off down the hall like a bitch eager for a long awaited walk. She took off

so quickly that she jerked her leash out of my hand. I caught up with her and grabbed the leash.

“With your permission, we will go to the kitchen for breakfast, if you do not untie my hands I

will beg prettily for my breakfast; then we will go to the sauna for a while and afterward make

love in the snow. Master doesn't like us to say 'make love', he wants to depersonalize sex and

have us say 'serve you' instead.” She paused to take a breath, but not at all long. “Even before I

was enslaved I liked a friendly fuck and it is love even if for just a little while, then you will strap

me into the hot tub and arrange the little jet for my pleasure or frustration and then Sam will

bring us lunch and-uh I will beg you to feed me and then we will go to the dungeon to see what

you can do to me.”

“Sam? Who is Sam?”

She turned a corner and I found myself in the kitchen. It was filled with a very short man, also

very wide – almost spherical — dressed in a cook's uniform. Stephanie said, “Sam, meet Lord

Faribault; my Lord, this is Sam. Sam is Master's cook, butler, factotum, whatever, he cooks almost

as well as Master and he prepares wonderful food in bite sized bits for your convenience in

feeding us girls, please my Lord will you give me a sip of mimosa?”

“Stephanie, do you ever shut up? Your mouth rattles on so fast that I can hardly keep up. Good

to meet you, Sam.” Stephanie knelt beside a chair near the kitchen table and looked up at me,

her face holding the loving and hopeful expression of an Golden Retriever I used to know. Sam

handed me a glass; obviously he was accustomed to dealing with nude and bound slavegirls.

I let Stephanie sip from the mimosa and then fed her a bit of heavily buttered rye toast topped

with bacon and scrambled egg. I knew it tasted very good, since I sampled one before I gave her

one.

We followed her plan, with only a minor modification. She chattered continuously, except while

we were actually making love. Even then, she made observations, gasps, and moans, unless I

was kissing her. I learned that Doug varied their assignments, which were made by him or by a

computer. She told me that he wanted them to be uncertain of what would be required of them

after the current task. She told me that she hated scrubbing floors or tiles naked, and she

wondered why anyone would pay to watch a girl doing so.

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After about a half hour in the hot tub, I got an erection again. I was somewhat surprised and very

pleased. I turned off the jet that was aimed at her pussy; she glared at me. “You will have to cooperate,

my dear. I want you to perform an underwater blow job.” She very obediently put her

head under water.

When she came up for breath, she said, “I can see your wonderful organ, but I can't reach it. Do

you want to untie me or move a little bit?”

I moved a little bit. She put her head underwater and took me in her mouth. Her tongue was

very active. The sensation when she exhaled is indescribable. She came up to breathe, and, after

a few long breaths, she again put her head under water. I was very much enjoying her mouth.

Once, I put my hand on her head. Not hard enough to prevent her for rising for air. Her mouth

and tongue became frantic, and I took my hand away.

Three or four emergings for breath, her mouth was around me. She focused on a very sensitive

part of my anatomy and caused me to cum in her mouth. Even underwater, she sucked

everything I had, and then her head emerged and she reached for my lips. I kissed her when she

offered her lips.

I suppose Sam was watching. Our lunch arrived shortly after Stephanie completed her work. I

took pleasure in feeding her [details later] and myself. I had become accustomed, even in this

short time, to Sam showing up at almost any time.

A few minutes after we finished our lunch, Doug appeared. I resolved to stop being surprised at

timely intrusions, since the whole place was wired. “I'd like to take Stephanie away from you for

a few hours, if that is OK with you.”

Since both of us looked like prunes after all of the time in the hot tub, I agreed. Doug said,

“Anne will keep you company, but I want you and Stephanie to be at the dungeon at about 6:00;

you will find it fun.”

With that he walked out. I released Stephanie from the straps attached to the hot tub, but I did

not untie her wrists. Anne came in with clothing for me, and Stephanie, dripping, went off to

whatever Doug had in mind for her.

[If positive response, this will be continued.]

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