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Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} Second Best 133/136 {Thinking Horndog} (D/s ws)
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Chapter 133.
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<1st attachment, "SecBest133.txt" begin>
Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Second Best
Part: 133
Universe: Second Best
Summary: A full-length novel that follows several young couples and their
families through the period immediately preceding their Senior Prom.
Keywords: D/s ws
Keywords for full story: F-solo, Ff-inc, M+F Ffm MF mf oral anal bd D/s Mg-
inc Fm-inc mm mmf rom MF-reluc
Chapter 133
Sunday Afternoon
Rick and Mandi made their way home via Mandi's house. On entry, they
believed themselves to be alone in the house, but as they passed Denise's
room, it became apparent that they were not. Mandi peeked in to find Denise
and Eddie in bed, conversing in that relaxed, logical manner that lovers can
only manage after the fires of passion have been thoroughly quenched. "Hi,
Sis, whatcha talking about?"
"We're picking out the china pattern," Denise retorted sarcastically,
then grinned to take the sting out as Mandi and Rick sidled into the room.
She didn't bother to cover her naked breasts - Rick was the one man alive she
figured had better things to do than to letch over her. Eddie, on the other
hand, made sure the sheet covered him to the waist.
"I stopped to pick up some clothes," Mandi replied, unruffled. "Pick
out anything nice?"
Denise stuck her tongue out at her sister and grinned. "Naw, they're
all too traditional. Eddie and I have time - we're stuck for a couple of
years yet. But what's this about clothes? You don't need any where YOU'RE
going!" Denise's grin turned feral.
Mandi chuckled. Putting hands on hips and pretending offense, she
announced, "I needed some flat sandals! So there!"
Denise laughed. "I get such a kick out of that - I've GOT to go over
and see it. After all, I'M the one who is SUPPOSED to be an exhibitionist..."
Mandi smiled ruefully. "Exactly! It's not my thing - which is why it's
so important..." Rick nodded in support. "Where's Momma?"
"Still at McCormick's apparently," Denise replied. "How long do you
figure we've got before old man McCormick lowers the boom?"
Mandi shook her head. "I don't know; Momma loves him, and I'm pretty
sure it's mutual. Dina's right about Bobby - he's got a positive talent for
saying something ungodly, but he ALWAYS tells the truth! And I'm guessing it
comes from his father..."
"I don't see why she's holding out..." Denise muttered, shaking her
head. "The man's crazy about her - even I can see THAT!"
"Well," Mandi sighed, "a lot of it has to do with the crater Daddy put
in her self-respect. And then there's the noble parent thing... Thing is..."
She waved at Rick.
"Yeah," Denise agreed, "We're moving on in our own directions."
"Well, with any luck, he'll manage to get her to come in from the cold.
She sure deserves it!" Mandi sighed. "See you later! I'm going to Rick's!
Bye, Eddie!" The boys nodded and waved to one another; neither had said a
word during the exchange.
Mandi and Rick left Mandi's house, arriving at Rick's very quickly. As
soon as she was in the door, Mandi shucked out of her shorts and top,
divesting herself of her bra almost as quickly. She slipped on a pair of
thongs, and sighed, "Thank God! Those heels were MISERABLE!" Rick grinned as
she nonchalantly folded her outerwear and laid it on the stairs beside the
overnight bag he'd carried in for her. He fondled her ass gently as the pair
made their way to the kitchen, where the only sounds of occupancy were coming
from.
On entry into the kitchen, they found Dina, Bobby, and Robert lounging
at the table while Merry and another woman, nude, worked to prepare a light
lunch. Bobby looked up, grinning, "The slave quarters are getting crowded
around here!"
Mandi regarded the other nude woman in bemused surprise until Merry
stepped in to do the introductions, "Mandi, this is Belle. She became a slave
of my master last night. Belle, this is Mandi. She belongs to Rick, who is
my son. I believe you may have met in another life..."
Both of the women were a bit embarrassed by the circumstances. Belle
was working on her third or fourth shock; Bobby and Dina were bad enough, what
with Dina's obviously "normal" status and Bobby's blithe acceptance
accompanied by rude comments, but another slave? And she DID recognize Rick,
and it was apparent that HE recognized HER! Altogether, it presented a new
level of humiliation and embarrassment for her.
Rick, however, got a grip on himself rather rapidly and managed a mere
nod of recognition.
Belle got a good look at the blonde Amazon that Rick had in tow and was
deeply impressed. Mandi, for her part, wondered vaguely just how many women
Robert intended to enslave? This new woman wasn't as impressive as Merry, who
was quite the fox for her age; she was a bit heavier, with larger breasts -
generally a bit wider all over. Not bad, but... Why had Robert bothered with
her?
Robert, however, had an agenda. "Well, I see that I have a car again,"
he remarked, gathering Rick's attention. "Just in time, too - I have plans for
the afternoon. It became apparent last night that we are ill-equipped to
properly chastise ONE slave, never mind THREE! I believe that we need to
create a proper area for the conduct of any training we might undertake in the
family room downstairs. I want to wander out to the Sex Shoppe and collect
some more equipment, and perhaps some documents and ideas for the creation of
proper training stations. What do you think?"
Rick eyed Mandi. "Sounds like a plan, Pop."
"I also need to outfit Belle, here. She has no proper collar. I'm
thinking that I'll take them both - that way I can get either one of them or
both fitted with whatever strikes my fancy. I need to talk to that fellow -
Alvin? - about the photographs, too." He turned and eyed the older pair of
slaves, "Of course, it would be nice if they were properly dressed for
travel... Something matching, don't you think? Something easy to get in and
out of, suggestive, and effective in various sizes..."
"Hey, Rick, what about that wraparound rig Auntie Helen wore the day you
sicced her on me? It worked well on her, and she's hefty and has those huge
tits..."
Dina snapped her fingers, "Cool! It's a wraparound dress, Pop! Easy to
get in and out of, shows a lot of leg and can be worn loose enough to show the
bust, yet it isn't an ABSOLUTE incitement to riot..."
"Great!" Robert enthused, "Would you know where to buy such a thing? On
a Sunday?"
"I do," Mandi submitted meekly.
"Good!" Rick replied, grinning like a shark, "You can go along and get
one, too! That way you'll match!" He met his father's eye, shrugging, "Hey,
if it's what she wants..."
Robert turned to his daughter, "Dina, would you do the honors?"
Dina swept her eyes over the trio that had just been delivered into her
clutches and smiled an evil smile. "Sure, Pop! When? Can I take Bobby
along?"
"Right after lunch, I should think. Sure, Bobby can go, as long as he
behaves himself. I'm sure that his wit will be instructive in certain
quarters. Hurry, lazy slaves! I'm hungry! I'm sure YOU want to eat, too!"
This outburst was primarily for Belle's benefit, and it had its effect - she
quit gaping and hurriedly went back to her sandwich making.
Rick paddled Mandi on the ass and nodded toward the work going on at the
counter. Mandi took the hint and took up a position to Belle's right,
inserting herself into the workflow. Lunch took no time at all to prepare.
Nate Adams staggered out of the laundramat, lugging his laundry. He was
carrying a basket of folded clothes and had a bag of less important stuff over
his shoulder. He was, therefore, ill-equipped to meet the large, pugnacious
looking fellow that stepped out of the car at the curb. "Mr. Adams?"
"Uh, yeah," Nate admitted, "Whatcha want?" He attempted to look
truculent, but one look at this guy and he knew he was fucked, if it came to
that. "If Ma owes you money, you won't get it from me!"
"That's not at issue, Mr. Adams," the giant said, in a strangely
educated voice, "Would you like a ride home?"
Nate eyed the giant. "Do I got any choice?"
The giant smiled, gently, "Not really."
Nate shrugged, and the huge specimen opened the trunk of the car, and,
taking the laundry basket from him, placed it and then the bag in it. Nate
half-expected to follow, but it didn't happen; instead, the giant merely waved
at the passenger door. Nate shrugged and got in. What the Hell...
As the car pulled away from the curb, the giant said, "I imagine your
curiosity is piqued..."
"Yeh," Nate admitted, "You could say that."
"I am in the indirect employ of one Armand Wilson," the giant began, "Do
you recognize the name?"
"Nora's dad?" Nate wasn't REALLY guessing.
"The same," the giant agreed.
"An' you're here to tell me to lay off, or else, right?" Nate made an
effort to appear aggressive.
"That would be a bit late, wouldn't it?" the giant chuckled. "According
to my information, if I were here to prevent you from parting the young lady
from her virginity, I'm several hours late!"
Nate got a little green at the gills. "Then, I figger you're here to
stomp my ass for doin' it?"
The giant chuckled again. "You'll no doubt be pleased to hear that that
is also not on the agenda."
"Then, whatthefuck?" Nate shrugged, grimacing.
"Mr. Wilson wants you to know that at this point he approves of both you
and your liaison with his daughter," the giant rumbled. "I should think -
although this exceeds my instructions as to what information I am to convey to
you - that you are in no danger from Mr. Wilson or his representatives -
unless you have any intention of treating Miss Nora poorly. If THAT were the
case, I should advise you that merely leaving town is inadequate protection."
"Uh HUH!" Nate responded, thinking, 'Well, I ain't got no sense...'
"Okay. You can tell Mr. Wilson that, whether he likes it or not, I plan to
keep Nora as mine! Mebbe I'll git seven or eight kids on her!" The giant
turned to regard him steadily, and Nate backpedaled furiously, "We'd be
married, though..."
The giant's eyes laughed. "That appears to reside within acceptable
scenarios, at this point. I'm sure your conduct will dictate the future."
"Awright," Nate sighed, giving up on the macho act, "You can tell Nora's
daddy that I don' wanna do nothin' but right by her - she's finer'n I deserve,
an' I got no interest in fuckin' it up..."
The cell telephone at the giant's hip went off, and he took the call,
listened briefly, and handed the phone to a bemused Nate. The voice on the
other end of the line said, "See that you don't." in an icy voice, and Nate's
eyeballs stood from their sockets! He stared at the phone in disbelief; this
was too fuckin' scary for words! Gingerly, he put the phone back to his ear
and quavered, "Mr. Wilson?"
"Indeed." A wry chuckle followed this confirmation. "Mr. Adams, I am
operating under the impression that both you and my daughter have some
untapped potential. Should I detect you trying to tap it, I may be inclined
to provide the pair of you with opportunities to excel. Should you succeed in
executing on these opportunities, others will surface; basically, the sky's
the limit. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Adams?"
"Yeh, I think so," Nate replied, somewhat perplexed. "What is it that I
gotta do?"
"For starters, you can make my daughter happy," the voice replied - and
the phone went dead.
Nate turned wide eyes on the giant. "That was really him?"
The giant nodded soberly.
"An' he keeps tabs that close?" Nate worried.
Another nod. "You'd be surprised. He knows about you, and your
mother..."
Nate hung his head. "Shit."
The giant smiled. "He considers her a cross that you have been bearing
well. He'd probably pay to have her dried out, if you wished..."
Nate shook his head, "Nah. Sober, she'd be that much more unhappy.
Someday soon, one of her motherfuckin' bastard boyfriends is gonna give her
some bad stuff, an' put her outta her misery. Or send her out to turn a bad
trick. Sucks, but that's the way it is. Some folk just can't deal wit' real
life. Mama's one of 'em. Makin' her clean an'sober wouldn't be doin' her no
favors."
Witherspoon's operative held his piece. The fact that Wilson would be
just as likely to order such a scenario set up was something that it was best
to let the boy stumble onto himself - no need to saddle him with undeserved
guilt if she should be found in an alley in the near future - with or without
Armand Wilson's assistance.
The car pulled up to the curb behind Nate's rattletrap, across the
street from the project 'apartment' he shared with his mother, and the giant
got out and opened the trunk. As he inserted the key, he eyed Nate, "A word
of advice: Take it easy with Nora until the Pill takes hold; Mr. Wilson is
handling THAT, too." Nate nodded, somewhat bemused. Before he handed Nate
his clothing, the giant stuck out his hand, "Good luck, Mr. Adams - although a
person with your understanding of the realities of life really doesn't need
it. I'll be seeing you."
Nate shook the hand, and numbly collected his laundry. Sheeit! Life
just got REAL interesting!
Armand Wilson put down the phone. In the interim, Felicia had been sent
out to clean up, Charles had returned to his duties, and Consuela to hers,
leaving Armand to study the materials gathered by Witherspoon's people at some
length. But his mind, at this point, was on something else... Picking up the
house phone, he directed Jason, "Bring Felicia in - and send for Charles."
Jason entered the room a few moments later, with Felicia in tow. "Ah,
Felicia. Come here, Dear." Felicia came and stood before him, head down.
Armand gazed upon her, "Whatever am I going to do with you?" Felicia, knowing
the question was rhetoric, flicked sad eyes up at him before resuming her
examination of her feet.
"I think you know by now," Armand continued, "that you will be unable to
fulfill the role that brought you into my orbit." Felicia nodded. "Usually,
such partings are just a fact of life - but in your case, I believe that I may
have left you in a condition unsuitable for return to the outside world."
Felicia blinked at this, and began to look really worried. Did this mean that
Armand intended to dispose of her in some way? Sell her as the slave she now
was? Kill her? Armand could be brutal; it was a basic component of his
nature. While she'd never seen him kill, she had heard him speak of the idea
of killing as if it were a tool to be employed when necessary, like any other.
A hundred scenarios floated chaotically through her mind.
Armand picked up Charles as he came through the door, and parked him
with his eyes. Jason, standing close enough to be able to respond to Armand's
wishes, picked up this byplay and was, for him, visibly unhappy.
Armand resumed, "Tell me, Dear: do you enjoy sex?"
Felicia raised her eyes, searching his for the correct answer. "Yes,
Sir."
Armand shook his head. "Honesty is what I require here, Dear. I'll
phrase the question differently: Do you enjoy sex - and the other things that
have come to be included with it?"
Felicia frowned. "Um, yes and no, Sir."
"Ah," Armand smiled. "You enjoy sex, but the other little vicissitudes
aren't necessarily pleasant?"
Felicia nodded brightly, a smile appearing on her face. Armand nodded.
"Tell me, do you find that you have come the point where you wish to enjoy sex
often? Perhaps a bit TOO often?" The smile slipped away. Armand was right;
he'd used her in ways that went beyond the norm, regularly, for over a month.
Now, she looked forward to it, expected it, desired it, in ways and quantities
that would destroy her modeling career and leave her unsuited for any
employment - except, perhaps, as a streetwalker. Death stared her in the
face.
Armand set the next barb. "While you're thinking about it, let's look
at those other little vicissitudes; do you really think you can do without
them?"
Tears leaked from her eyes. Over the last month, Armand had
inextricably linked pleasure with humiliation and pain in her. The real
question, perhaps, was whether he had actively damaged her, or merely opened
the door to something already there... Her greatest pleasures came when she
surrendered herself to the will of another. And the more unpleasant that
service...
"Obviously, you're aware of the answer, but it is best to get it into
the open, don't you think?" Armand prompted.
"I'm a slut, Sir." Felicia couldn't even remember the last time she had
called him Armand. "And the... other things... are important to me."
"You understand, then, why I believe that returning you to your modeling
career would be a disservice?" Armand asked. Felicia nodded. "There are
several options, but I prefer the simplest - don't you?"
Felicia cringed. Armand blinked, frowned. "Ah. Euthanasia IS an
option, but it would be complicated, and manifestly unfair to you. I have
something else in mind - another position, here." Felicia looked up, excited.
"Best to listen first!" Armand warned. She subsided immediately. Armand
shook his head; it was like having a pet... A dog, though, cats were too
independent. Yes, she's a bitch... "I propose to keep you as a house slave,"
he announced. "Your official duties would be to bring pleasure to those of my
guests whom I should designate to you - whatever they ask for. You
understand?"
Felicia nodded, her face a study as she considered the implications.
Armand continued, "As such, you would be a display piece, an objet d'art,
visible - nude - in the household, almost constantly. This is the closest I
can come to providing you the exhibitionistic joys of your modeling career. I
may... modify... you, from time to time, as it pleases me - but without intent
to damage you permanently. Nipple rings, and a chain to depend between them
for your guidance, perhaps. What do you think, Charles?"
Charles, caught short by the shift of attention, flicked a glance at
Jason. There would be trouble over this... "Tastefully done, it could be
quite nice, Sir. Perhaps a set to run from a collar on her neck to the
nipples, too, for balance?"
Armand raised eyebrows and nodded, "Quite." Returning his attention to
Felicia, he resumed, "As a slave, you would be the lowest of the low in my
household. This is for two reasons: No one else is an acknowledged slave,
and I will require the assistance of the household staff to keep you finely
tuned for the purpose of pleasuring my guests and to keep your appetites
slaked while I am engaged in other pursuits." He eyed her for a moment. "You
will also provide a constant, living example of perfect obedience for others
to contemplate. Should you fail at this in some particular, I will punish you
severely. Do you understand?"
"Yes... Sir." Was he Master yet?
Armand, watching her, nodded. "This is an offer - you have not
accepted, yet. Jason, get onto my lawyers - I wish to have as much legal
control over Felicia as is consistent with current law, under the
circumstances." Returning his attention to Felicia, he continued, "The
upside? I will provide for your health care, housing, and a small disposable
income - which, since I will be dictating your modes of dress, you needn't
worry about depleting by the purchase of clothing. I will also see to your
eventual release and retirement, ensuring that you can live in comfort, should
I predecease you or you leave my employ. But do not misunderstand me: To the
outside world, you may be an employee, but slavery is your reality, and you
live and die by my will." His dark eyes locked hypnotically with hers. "This
state will occur indefinitely, at my will. I may at some point decide to
dispense with you, by whatever means - as a gift to a guest, perhaps. Or I
may merely release you into the wild in your current state - I believe that
you have already contemplated this..." Felicia gulped, nodding.
"You will never leave the house, except in the company of one of the
staff who will be suitably equipped to control any foolish ideas you might
have about obtaining your freedom against my will. You may petition for your
freedom at any time - but I will grant or ignore such petitions at my will,
and you will have no choice but to abide by my decisions."
"You will be vessel for the pleasures of those I designate, be they
male, female, or some confused state between. And you will do anything that
they wish that does not appear to involve permanent physical damage. These
activities may bleed over into areas that we have not delved into; if so, you
will add them to your repertoire without comment or prejudgment, and at least
pretend to enjoy them. These will be your standard instructions in such
matters. Do you understand?" Felicia nodded. "Questions?"
"Will you use me?" Felicia asked, tonelessly.
"Regularly. While you lack some qualities that I consider important in
my primary relationships, your pliancy makes you a convenient vessel for my
use. However, you should not expect that I will be your primary sexual
partner, or that you will be mine. I may require your presence, and even your
assistance, while I interview others for the position that you attempted to
fulfill - but you are not in competition with such a one, and your place will
always be secondary. A freewoman who I may eventually accept for said
position may or may not be designated your Mistress, at my discretion.
Whatever fallout should occur from such a circumstance would be another cross
that you would be expected to bear. Anything else?"
"Uh, you've expressed some concerns for my safety..." Felicia worked
hard at not flicking a glance at Jason - and almost succeeded.
"Ah," Armand nodded. "If I have slaves, I shall require an overseer.
Since your position has been defined as that of a menial beneath the level of
the inside staff, I see no conflict with having your activities controlled
from outside their orbit." He turned his attention to Charles, "I believe
that you worked for my esteemed uncle for a number of years before you entered
my employ."
"I did, Sir."
"And, despite your talents, our requirements have been seriously
demanding of your spare time?" Charles seldom left the compound. Speculation
was that if he became highly visible to law enforcement, an old warrant might
surface. These fears were grounded, although the statute of limitations for
the offense involved had lapsed. It had been a "condition" of Charles'
employment that he avoid such things; Armand's oblique mention of the issue
was the first inkling Charles had that his current employer was aware of it.
In fact, however, Armand had facilitated the occasional arrival of a hooker
more for Charles' benefit than for the other 'yard boys', although he had
always made it appear otherwise. Armand saw an opportunity to accomplish a
number of things, here, not the least of which was to bring Charles to grips
with the fact that he was no longer under house arrest.
"Yes, Sir."
"Nonetheless, I find that I must demand more of you. You will oversee
Felicia and any others who I might obtain to fulfill her role, either
permanently or on a temporary basis. This change of focus may require that
you rely more on the gardner to deal with the outside staff, but I believe
that it will be a step up for both of you, and will adjust your compensation
to reflect it. You will see to it that Felicia is well exercised and finely
toned, and prepared to execute a variety of sexual acts at a moment's notice.
You will see to any training or discipline that I do not deliver myself, and
any phase of her daily use that involves physical abuse will be conducted
under your supervision and responsibility." He leaned forward in his chair.
"Understand, I do not wish to see them cease - she has admitted that they are
a part of her sexual requirements, as they are mine. In fact, you will be
responsible for their day-to-day continuance. I require you to see to it that
the limits are pressed, but not exceeded."
Charles maintained a poker face. "Yes, Sir." He didn't glance at
Jason; obviously, there would be Hell to pay.
Armand piled it on. "You will coordinate with Jason to see to it that
my needs and the needs of the inside staff are fulfilled - but you remain
solely responsible for Felicia's welfare and will take any steps you deem
necessary to ensure it." He turned to Jason, "I trust that I make myself
clear." Jason nodded, his face a mask.
Armand returned his regard to Felicia. "Anything else?"
"No, Sir."
"Do you understand what I am offering? The limitations? The benefits,
such as they are?"
"Yes." Felicia nodded.
"Do you accept?" Armand watched her blandly, absolutely certain of the
outcome.
For Felicia, however, things were nowhere near as clear. She was giving
up her past existence and moving forward into something murky, which might or
might not fulfill her altered requirements for a tenable existence. Armand
waited patiently for several minutes, while Felicia puzzled the whole thing
out. Finally, she looked up. "Yes...Master."
"Good!" Armand returned briskly. "Kneel before me. With the exception
of certain specifically identified times when your duties require it or I give
you leave, that is the last time you will raise your eyes to mine. Do you
understand?"
"Yes, Master." Felicia knelt quickly, divesting herself of her shoes in
the process.
"Hmmmm. Spread your knees, and place your palms on your thighs. Back
straight. Eyes straight ahead. Charles, are you getting this?" Armand
demanded.
"Yes, Sir. Every nuance."
"Good. It will be your responsibility to see to it that she is letter
perfect. Jason, go to the playroom and get some binders. Charles needs to
stay here with his charge, for the moment." Armand returned his attention to
Felicia. "Remove the dress, Slave. I would have you assume your natural
condition in my household. You will remain nude until I or my overseer
directs otherwise."
"Yes, Master." Felicia got out of her dress and resumed her position.
Armand pointed out various aspects of the position for Charles, "She
kneels with her feet flat, the tops on the floor - she may have to remain in
position some time, and having her ankles flexed would not be conducive to
this. Knees are spread, so that I might check her condition at any time."
Deliberately, he reached beneath her from behind and dragged his thumb along
her labia, eliciting a gasp and a quelled jump. He nodded. "Such a reaction
is acceptable. I don't want her to pretend I'm not here. However, should she
break position, she should be punished." Coming around front, he announced,
"She should present her breasts, and appear serene and happy at all times,
unless it is absolutely obvious that other conditions obtain."
"You will have full access to the playroom - it is necessary for the
slave's training. You will utilize such of the household staff as is
necessary to keep her fully engaged, sexually - male and female. That
includes the 'yard boys'. She's to be able to do absolutely everything you
can think of."
"You, slave, are the lowest of the low. You will address every member
of this household as Sir or Ma'am, except me - and you know what to call me,
don't you? "Armand smiled grimly. "When not engaged in your primary duties,
you will respond to anyone who requires your assistance. Charles, manual
labor won't hurt her - but I don't want her utility for her primary purpose
damaged. Such determinations are yours - unless I disagree." Armand smiled.
"On to fringe benefits. The slave will be quartered in the south wing, near
your quarters. Any time she is not assigned to myself or someone I designate,
or in training, I expect you to be tuning her sexual response from the comfort
of your bed."
Charles blinked. "Sir?"
"You have a problem with that?"
"Nossir! I just..."
"You've just spent twenty years providing excellent service while
basically under house arrest - I think it's time you had a sex life!" Armand
grinned. "You don't think I brought in those women for the yard boys?"
Charles stood there, nonplussed. Armand continued, "However, if the
pair of you develop a relationship, you need to realize that I will NOT
release her from bondage and she will always have to answer to me, first. And
you KNOW I will enforce that requirement."
Charles sighed, "Yes, Sir."
"Come here, Slave." Felicia crawled forward. Armand opened his robe.
"Pull down my pajama bottoms." Felicia did so. As she did, Jason returned
from the playroom with a pair of wrist binders. Armand indicated that he
should toss them to Charles with a wave. "Bind her - behind the back. Jason,
I'll want her submission documents as soon as possible." Jason nodded and
left.
Armand waited, apparently patiently, while Charles secured Felicia's
wrists behind her, then addressed his new slave. He slid forward in his chair
and announced, "All right, then. You need to thoroughly understand your new
station in life, and I need to urinate. To me, those two situations appear to
be complimentary."
Felicia's eyes popped, but she was bound, and Armand had her behind the
head. Obviously, if she fought the whole thing, she would be beaten... Hot
tears of shame filled the beautiful redhead's eyes as she engulfed Armand's
member. "No sucking, now - I don''t want to get an erection, I want to
urinate!" Armand instructed. "And don't spill any; if you do, I will have
Charles beat you and supervise him to ensure that he does an adequate job!"
The flow began, and Felicia, shuddering at the taste, struggled to keep
up. Armand took pity on her, controlling the flow; her effort at compliance
was clear, so there was no reason to make things unnecessarily difficult.
Felicia swallowed, and swallowed, and swallowed - the awful act seemed to go
on forever! But finally, Armand's cock stopped emitting the vile tasting
stuff. Felicia sucked a bit, cleaning and clearing the drips without
prompting.
"Ahhh," Armand sat back. He thought about filling her throat, but
decided against it - there were other, more pressing matters to attend to. He
dismissed her with a wave. As Felicia backed off, Armand directed Charles,
"Take her into the playroom, jam a vibrator up her ass, and fuck her,
brutally. Establish your dominance over her. Her service to you is to be
secondary only to her service to me. She should go to sleep with your cock in
her mouth, and wake up with it in her ass. You get the idea - use your
imagination. See if you can come up with a name for her - until you do, and I
approve it, her name is 'Slave'. I may call for her this evening, but I doubt
it. Coordinate with Jason regarding her new quarters, then supervise their
outfitting. They are not to be comfortable; I want her to have a positive
inducement to be pleasing enough to share one of our beds. There is a 4 foot
square cage in the playroom, for instance... You're a fine artificer, use
your imagination. She can test your designs; if they don't work, it's no
loss..." Armand smiled like a shark, and Felicia watched him through
frightened eyes.
Charles, smiling, rasped, "What if I can't improve upon Felicia?"
"Then we'll call her 'Spot' for a while, or something," Armand replied,
indifferently. "Run along, now. Make sure Jason takes a turn with her -
it'll soothe his anger and help patch things between you. He'll want to beat
her; let him - but he leaves no permanent marks, or I'll mark BOTH of you
similarly. Run along." Armand waved, and Charles led Felicia out.
<1st attachment end>
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