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From: Subjukated@aol.com
Subject: {ASSM} subcontractor 3 of five
Date: Tue, 26 Mar 2002 13:10:04 -0500
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   <1st attachment, "Subcontractor3.txt" begin>

   Warning: This work of fiction contains graphic and adult situations.  It
is not meant for children or those who are offended easily.

   It may be a violation of state, federal or international law to possess,
read or share this document.  Please review your local and international
laws and regulations before reading or sharing this file and be the
lawabiding citizen you ought to be.

   DO NOT under any circumstances share this document with anyone under
legal age.  If you are a parent, act responsibly and lock it up.  If you
are a minor, do not read this document at all.

   Some things are not meant for everyone.  This story is one of those
things.

   Subcontractor Chapter Three: "The Price of a Princess" by Subjukate

   It was Tuesday, and Arcanna was deeply upset about it.  The day had not
gone as she had expected.

   The night before, she received a message from her acting master, the
Baron.

   He had instructed her to visit a day spa in the afternoon after her
weekly visit to her psychiatrist.

   The psychiatrist had been rather harsh and instructed her to get on with
her life, and the hairdresser in the dayspa had colored her hair, waxed her
entire body, and painted her nails a shocking shade of red called "I'm Not
Really a Waitress." Yes, it felt good.  But Arcanna did not want to change
anything about her life.  She was still in mourning.

   Arcanna was exhausted and upset, and now she had to figure out what was
in the walls of the ballroom, after the sun had gone down.

   Instead of passing through the kitchen, she took a shortcut and went
straight to the ballroom.  She had all her tools in her purse, so she could
get to work straight away.

   She entered the ballroom through a back door.

   The ballroom was originally a meeting hall.  Its ceiling was thirty-five
feet high, and it was lighted by candles on chandeliers that dropped from
long velvet cords.  The floor was made of wood, and she liked the way it
felt beneath her feet.

   The walls were plastered and painted in a refined shade of yellow and
brown.  There was a fresco on one wall of Greek women dancing in a field of
flowers.

   She expected to the room to be dark, as she had been told that she would
have its exclusive use today.  She and only she would have this room.

   But this was not the case.

   Upon entering, Arcanna noticed the echo of a man in the throes of
orgasm, and someone being whipped.

   Her eyes adjusted to the light, and she saw before her people on the
floor in an orgy of delight.  The crosses had been brought up from the
dungeon.  On one side was a round and balding little man being whipped by
an old Dom with a steel handled riding crop.  Closer to Arcanna, Mr. 
Hunter was clearly enjoying a dressage whip and the wrist of his wife.  The
cross fit him perfectly.

   Every now and then, she'd stop, suck his cock to the edge and then go
back to the beating.  When she knelt to suck him, it became apparent that
she did not wear an undergarment beneath the leather corset.  The fishnet
stockings were held up by leather thongs built into the corset.  The back
came to a "V" and laced down so that the strings hung between her legs. 
And again, she wore those awful high heels.

   "You like this.  Admit it," Mrs.  Hunter said.

   "Suck on my cock."

   She flicked the dressage whip, and he begged in a voice so low that only
Mrs.  Hunter could hear him.

   Moments later she knelt in front of him and began to suck him.  Her hand
made a fluent movement, so Arcanna guessed that she had wetted him
completely.  Her hand moved down to the base of his cock and twisted very
slowly.  Her other hand caressed his balls.  Her lips held him completely
in a warm velvet hotness visible even at this distance.

   A guest took an interest in the couple; she had been pleasuring herself
with a carrot earlier.

   She stepped up to Mr.  Hunter and fed him the carrot.  Then, Merri
stepped back, while the lady positioned herself beneath his open legs and
began to tongue his ass hole.

   His eyes rolled with pleasure, his head fell backwards, and his mouth
fell open.

   Mrs.  Hunter then sat between the lady's open legs.  While the lady
sucked his ass and licked his balls, she enjoyed the sweet sensitivity of
Mrs.  Hunter's soft hands.

   She pulled on her nipples slightly, and they kissed, then went back to
tormenting him.

   Mrs.  Hunter was sucking his cock and drawing him closer to the edge,
when another lady laid down at the junction of her open legs and began to
suck her.

   Soon thereafter, she found a rhythm and began to pleasure herself
against the stranger's sucking mouth.

   "Baby, come to me," Mr.  Hunter said to his wife.

   "This is so good.  She's tonguing me.  Her...her...  heh...  her
tongue...  is pounding my G-spot." Her breath grew ragged, and her legs
worked to fuck the stranger's mouth.  The lady pulled her hands around Mrs.
Hunter's thighs and pinned her there.

   Without the ability to slow the onslaught, she was helpless and out of
control.  There was that characteristic wailing of doors opening.  Mr. 
Hunter watched her face intently while struggling to keep from cumming so
soon.

   "Oh yeah," he said.  "Suck her.  Make my wife cum.  She...  Oh god... 
she likes...  drink it.  Drink her cum.  Suck my ass....  I'm going to
shoot my load s-s-soon."

   There were people on the floor, writhing and twisting.  In plain view
was a woman embedded by two men, and a man with a lady for a headdress.

   This would have been shocking to Arcanna, if only she had not hosted
this kind of event several times on her own.  She took a moment to examine
the food table.

   There was a naked girl on it, stretched out and surrounded by fruit. 
Her hands were bound over her head.  Her feet were bound to the legs of the
table.

   There was a man with his hand between her legs, making her twist in an
extremely lewd fashion.  To the left of his hand was a banana peel.

   Three men stood beside him, and said what must have been rude things to
her.

   To the left there was a man drilling another man.  Beside them were two
women eating each other.  One of the ladies looked at one of the men as if
she knew him, as if she had known him for a very long time.

   Three feet away was an enclave of chairs, a table, and a footstool.  She
was behind the people sitting in the chairs.  She could hear them talking.

   "She loved her husband with her whole heart.  She was devastated when he
died.  We had to have her hospitalized.  Two years have passed, and it is
time." She knew the voice.  She knew his hair.  She recognized the tilt of
his hand and with a brandy snifter.  The baron had come for a visit.

   She realized that she was overdressed for the occasion, and that she
wasn't invited to the party.  She was disappointed that she would not be
able to socialize with old friends, but she was happy to be going to bed
early.

   She was about to leave, and she noticed that the captive slave with the
professional Domme was crying on the cross.  It appeared that at the wrong
moment the lady on the table came vociferously, and distracted her.  She
swung too close to his cock and it frightened him.  He was gagged with a
rubber ball gag.  Anna knew that this was a dangerous thing to do.

   She walked the perimeter of the room in the shadows to the cross.  He
needed a cloth gag if he was to cry like that.  "Tears for tears." It was
an old saying.

   She approached the older Domme, who was wearing a devilish corset and
again those awful high heels.

   "Brigetta, its nice to see you again."

   "Arcanna Murphy!  What a delight to see you!  What-What is up with your
clothes?"

   Arcanna ignored the question and said, "Could you hold for a moment?"

   Brigetta looked at her, riding crop in hand, and smiled.  "Would you
care to take over?  For old time's sake?"

   "Ummmmm, I'm not really ready to take over in this regard, but I'd like
to alter this scene a bit if you don't mind."

   "Of course, be my guest.  Use my husband as your slave."

   Arcanna smiled.  Oh, what a sweet thing for a grown woman to say.

   Arcanna lifted her skirt and removed her underwear as discreetly as she
could.  Pink lace.  She was ovulating, so her body had seasoned them, and
she knew how much Brigetta's husband loved the taste of women.  This would
do nicely.

   She removed the rubber ball gag, while caressing his cock with hand. 
"Did she hurt you?  Were you afraid?  Does it hurt now?"

   He sobbed.  "I don't like pain."

   "Okay.  I will see to it that it doesn't hurt anymore.  Open."

   He opened his mouth and she put the bit of lace inside making sure that
the good part rested against his tongue.  He managed a weak smile.

   "Mistress," Arcanna offered respectfully, "Your servant is tired and
weak and in this state will be unable to resist you or disobey.  The time
is right for you to do what you will."

   "You are our guest.  YOU use him."

   "No, no.  I have not been granted permission by my master for anything
of this sort.  Besides, I'm not ready for this.  My heart hurts still, and
my skin still aches from the loss of the man I have loved."

   "Help me take him down."

   In this moment, Arcanna truly regretted that she was wearing her street
clothes.  She wanted to rub against him and to provide him with the feeling
of warm skin after such torment.  It can be such a comfort, she knew.  And
she wanted to comfort him.  Clearly he was not made for submission.  This
was just weekend kink for him.

   He really didn't like being taken down.  It seemed that his mistress had
left him up too long.

   They dropped him onto an empty space on the mat on the floor where there
weren't people fucking.

   He curled into a fetal position.  He'd need a blanket.  There was a
really nice blanket in the study.  She crossed the room without thinking,
focused on the whereabouts of the cotton throw with the grapevine pattern.

   "Arcanna Murphy!"

   OH shit!

   She had completely forgotten.,...  THE BARON.  Oh no.

   She turned her face to him and got on her knees.  She was genuinely
afraid but she didn't have a good reason to be.

   He crossed the room with an entourage of beautiful women, two
well-dressed men, and his dog.

   "You have been incredibly rude, Arcanna.  How very unlike you. 
Explain."

   When she could see his feet, she whispered.  "I am so sorry, sir. 
Please forgive your servant this transgression.  I was thinking only of the
safety of another submissive.  Punish me if you must but know that it was
an act of selflessness that brought me to this, and not a lack of respect
or affection to you, my Master."

   "Why aren't you wearing what I told you to wear?" He was clearly
mystified.

   "I...  I...  I...  What?"

   "I left garments for you to find in the kitchen and a note to put them
on.  You have disobeyed me twice.  This is so unlike you, Arcanna!"

   "Ohhh Baron," she sighed.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't pass through the
kitchen on the way in.  I didn't know you were here.  I didn't see the
note."

   He made a heavy sigh.  "Ohhh, Annie.  You've been disrespectful in my
court.  What will we do with you?"

   As he eyed Hadyn Hunter so close to the throes of orgasm, he considered
her punishment carefully.  He was fully ready to send her to him to deliver
his orgasm personally, but his whole body contracted in one powerful spasm.

   "Yes....  you......  fucking....  whore!" he said, punctuating each word
with a spurt of semen onto the floor.  There were two women sucking at his
cock and ass hole.  They overwhelmed him.

   In moments, a guest, whose face he could not see, began rubbing her tits
into the wet spots he'd just made.  Another woman approached her and licked
them.

   Obviously, his servant did not mean to be disobedient.  He went on to
say, "Well, first things first.  Go back to the kitchen, open the box, and
put on the clothes in the box.  Then come back here.  Have you eaten yet?"

   "No."

   "Then eat, and brush your teeth before you come back here.  I expect you
back flawless.  No masturbating trying to get ready"

   "Baron.  Why are you here in Hadyn Hunter's house?" she asked, still
staring at the floor.

   "Your husband left you to me in his will, and I have looked after you as
if you were my own slave for two years.  But the time has come for you to
take a new master and I have chosen one for you."

   "No!  Baron, please.  I beg you.  Have mercy on me.  Please don't give
me away."

   "I'm not giving you away.  I am selling you."

   Selling her!  Oh the outrage!  The rudeness of it all!  He...  He
couldn't do that!  He CAN'T sell his slave!  Slaves choose their masters!

   He had to have been offered something very impressive to break down and
drop out of protocol.

   While wondering about his motive, she blurted, "What is the price for a
servant of my magnitude?"

   "There were many, I can assure you, that asked for your leash, but I
found a man who has one thing no other master in all the world has that you
want him to have.  I have found a master who has everything you have ever
stated you desire."

   "And what would that be, sir?"

   "He has your safeword."

   Copyright 2001.  All rights reserved by subjukated.  You may not alter
the content of my writings in any way shape or form under any
circumstances. I am not responsible for any actions taken due to the
content of my writing.  If you feel that you have reached this Copyright
text in error....  Oh wait.  Never mind.

   Authoress Contact Information: Subjukated@aol.com ; AIM nick:
Subjukated.

   <1st attachment end>

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