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From: artyeleven@yahoo.co.uk (Artyeleven)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 24 Feb 2004 17:05:20 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} Serena 1/10 {Arty} (MF slow rom cons D/S Mdom Fdom span lght)
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Date: Tue, 24 Feb 2004 19:10:05 -0500
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Serena
by Arty

1.	Revelation

"I am a pleasure slave."

I sat with my mouth open and suddenly the world was slipping
sideways and going grey.

"Sit forward and put your head between your knees." She
knelt by my side and helped me into the suggested position.
The rushing noise that had all but overwhelmed me receded
and the colour returned to the richly patterned carpet that
was all that I could see in my current position. I replayed
the words that she had spoken and now I felt a rising
nausea.

"Toilet, I think I'm going to..."

I staggered from the settee and made a dive for the toilet.
Over the next few minutes I regurgitated my share of a very
expensive Italian meal. At last, my stomach was empty and
all I was doing was dry heaving. All the time, Serena was by
my side helping me, wiping my face with a damp cloth and
generally being a comforting presence. Assisting me to stand
up from my supplicatory position in front of the toilet
bowl, she guided me to lie down on the settee that I had
vacated so precipitously. She looked at me, concern shading
every feature of her beautiful face.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out, only a
strangled croak. Even had my vocal chords not been affected
by my recent vomiting, I doubt whether I would have spoken
anything intelligible or coherent. I tried again anyway,
with the same result. Serena stroked my face and placed a
fingertip on my lips.

"Don't try and speak yet; I'll get you some water to ease
your throat and to take the taste away."

I watched as she stood up; God, she was so graceful;
everything she did, she did with such grace. She returned
with a glass of water and knelt again by my side. She
offered the glass to my lips and helped me to raise my head
and take sips of water. She seemed to focus her whole being
on me and the errant thought - that she had been trained to
do this - passed through my mind. I pushed the glass aside
and sat up.

"Do you want the rest of the water?"

I nodded and took the proffered glass from her and drank
deeply. Serena remained kneeling. From the maelstrom of
thoughts, that were currently paralysing any hope of
coherent speech, came a single question that suddenly popped
to the forefront of my mind: I realised that in all the
times that I had been here, I had never seen her sit on the
furniture.

"Why do you always sit on the floor?"

The sudden change of subject didn't seem to faze her and she
smiled gently before she replied. "I'm not allowed to use
the furniture unless my Master gives me permission."

I stared at her in shock; once more the world was a crazy
place. Only an hour ago I had asked her to marry me and I
was imagining cosy nights-in, planning a wedding and a
honeymoon, discussing houses and children; now I found that
I didn't know her at all. Now I found that the woman that I
wanted to spend the rest of my life with was beholden to
another. Some unknown man was her 'Master' and even though
he couldn't possibly know if she sat on the furniture or
not, she didn't because he wasn't there to grant permission.
Serena, speaking out of turn, halted further unwelcome
speculation on my part; something else I realised she didn't
do often, was that part of her training too?

"I love you."

The sudden declaration returned me to the question that had
precipitated the revelation.

"Do you?"

"Oh yes! I love you, more, much more than I love my Master."

She was so matter of fact about it. Each mention of her
'Master' sent me spinning off into crazy speculation.
Slavery had been abolished hadn't it? This was the
twenty-first century wasn't it? Round and round until I felt
dizzy. I looked up and met her gaze. There was no doubting
the look of adoration that I saw there and part of me felt
relief; she did love me it was obvious in the way that she
looked at me.

"Who is he?"

"I'm not allowed to tell you." She held up her hand to
forestall me. "He wants to meet you."

"When did he tell you this?"

Serena looked uncomfortable; for the first time this evening
she seemed embarrassed and somewhat lost for words,
eventually she shook herself and started to speak. "I have
to meet my Master once or twice every month and I must tell
Master of all the significant events that have occurred
since the last time I was in Master's presence."

My eyes widened at the implications of that. Serena hurried
on, not giving me time to react.

"I also must tell Master of the times when I have
transgressed my-" she searched for a phrase, "standing
orders. And then I am punished or rewarded as Master sees
fit. I have told my Master that I'm in love with you, that I
wish to marry you and that I thought that you would want to
marry me. Master said that should you ask me to marry you, I
must tell you of my status as a pleasure slave. If you were
still willing to marry me then I should arrange for you to
meet my Master."

She stopped and looked at me, adoration and questioning in
her gaze in equal measure. I thought about what she had told
me. I considered, briefly, saying no and then I realised
that I couldn't conceive of not having Serena as part of my
life. Did I love her enough to share her? I didn't know; but
at the moment I loved her too much to give her up without a
fight.

"I want to meet him. How soon can you arrange it?"

"I am to 'phone him tonight if you have asked me to marry
you and if you have agreed to meet with him. He will make
the arrangements with you directly."

I realised that she had stopped referring to him in the
third person.

"Why have you stopped referring to him as 'Master'?"

She blushed, "I saw that you were getting hung up on the
word in relation to me and so I tried to desensitise you."

"It seems to have worked. At least for now."

"Will you want to stay with me tonight?"

"I think I should go home, I really need to think about
this."

"Please stay. I need to feel you near me tonight, please?"

I felt my resolve crumble; I never could resist her when she
pleaded like this. I consciously veered my thoughts away
from the speculation that this thought engendered and simply
nodded.

"I'll 'phone him now and then we can go to bed."

I watched as she rose and walked to the 'phone, but before
she dialled she pulled off her dress; as usual she was now
naked except for her hold-up stockings. I'd found this
aspect of her dress incredibly arousing when I was first
allowed to know of it; now I realised that she dressed this
way for other reasons. In my reverie I'd missed her rolling
off her stockings and now she knelt again as she picked up
the 'phone handset and dialled. The main room lighting was
achieved by a series of low-voltage spotlights. I realised
with a small shock that she was now kneeling in the centre
of a pool of light; her 'Master' even controlled where she
knelt to make or answer 'phone calls! The light from the
spotlight glinted from the rings that pierced her nipples
and the hood of her clitoris, yet another piece of the
jigsaw puzzle of his domination of her life. I wondered what
sort of man could command this kind of submission; grimly I
hung onto the fact that she said she loved me more.

"Master?"

I noticed that she straightened up and thrust out her
breasts as she spoke, also she widened the spread of her
knees. I could just hear the sound of a voice from the
handset, but couldn't make out any words. Serena blushed
deeply and she looked at me pleadingly. She spoke again with
a catch in her voice, "Please, Master?" again the sound of a
voice. "Yes Master." There was resignation in her tone. Her
free hand began to caress her nipples and tug on the rings
that pierced them, gently at first but harder as each one
became erect, until finally she was cruelly twisting them
back and forth. Her breathing became erratic and I could see
moisture gathering in the folds of her sex. I sat
transfixed. Now her hand travelled slowly between her legs
and she began to masturbate in earnest, running her fingers
around her clitoris and penetrating herself; her hips
undulated as she started to cum, which she did with a series
of moans and grunts. As her breathing returned to normal,
she once again straightened up. I noticed that she was still
flushed and she looked at me with tears beginning to fall as
she began to lick her juices from her hand. I heard again
the sound of a voice, this time with a rising inflexion -
obviously a question, which she answered. "Yes, Master." She
held the 'phone out to me but refused to meet my gaze as she
knelt there crying silently.

I stood and as I did so, I became aware of the hardest
erection I had ever had in my entire life. Shame flooded me.
Here I was turned on, while my girlfriend, my fiancée in all
but name, masturbated in front of me at the whim of another.
I stood irresolute, how could she love me? I should be
outraged; instead I couldn't remember when I was so turned
on. Serena met my eyes once more and then looked down as she
blushed at the lust that she must have seen there, but still
she held the 'phone out to me. Finally I took it. If I were
to leave now - I knew I would not have the courage to face
her again and I couldn't countenance the prospect of living
without her. Once I had the handset in my hand, she placed
both of hers on the back of her neck and laced her fingers
together.

"Yes?" I cursed myself for sounding so feeble, but what else
could I say? What was the etiquette associated with talking
to the 'Master' of one's fiancée, whom one has just
discovered is a slave? This and other suitably ridiculous
thoughts crossed my mind while I waited interminable seconds
to hear the voice of this mysterious 'Master'.

"Good evening, David. May I call you David? Given the, ah,
intimacy of your recent experiences with my slave, I think
first name terms are in order, don't you think?"

The clipped tones of a public-school-educated Oxford
graduate rolled from the handset. Here was the voice of a
man used to being obeyed without question. There was a
familiar ring to it, though I couldn't think where I had
heard the voice before. I gathered myself to answer in an
equally urbane tone - this was just farcical; my happiness
depended, in some measure, on this man's goodwill and here
am I attempting to play mind games with him!

"Yes, I suppose so. What should I call you?"

He chuckled warmly, not fooled for an instant. "Jack, yes,
call me Jack. Now to business; we need to meet, so to that
end I will send a car for you. It will pick you both up
tomorrow at 10 sharp; casual dress is acceptable. Please
tell my slave that I expect her to adopt her standard dress
code even when in your presence from now on. Goodbye." 

Before I could reply the line went dead. I replaced the
handset and looked with bemusement at Serena. She had
stopped crying though her shoulders still heaved with silent
sobs. I lifted her up and held her in my arms and tried to
comfort her, but in trying not to let her feel my erection
she must have felt rejected and she started to cry again.

"I'm so sorry that you had to see that. You must think I'm
terrible, to be able to do that, to be so shameless-"

"No, it's not your fault; it's me. I'm awful. I should be
outraged at his treatment of you, but instead all I can
think of is how erotic you were and how turned on I am."

She stopped crying, "You don't hate me?"

"How could I hate you? I love you!" I hugged her to me hard
and let her feel my erection. She kissed me then and the
feral power of her kiss took my breath away and left me
struggling to maintain my balance.

"I love you. I love you. I love you-" she murmured over and
over, grinding herself into me and punctuating each
declaration with little kisses. After a while she quieted
and we moved toward the settee. I sat down and pulled her
onto my lap. She started to protest, but I stopped her with
a kiss.

"You're sitting on my lap not the furniture."

"That's sophistry and I'll probably be punished terribly."
But she didn't attempt to leave my lap. Talk of her 'Master'
reminded me of my conversation and his enigmatic message
that I was to pass onto her.

"He said he was sending a car for us at 10 o'clock sharp,
that casual dress was acceptable and he said something
else." I struggled to remember his exact words; "He said
'Please tell my slave that I expect her to adopt her
standard dress code even when in your presence from now
on.'" Serena sighed in resignation. "What does that mean,
darling?" Serena blushed and buried her face in my shoulder.

"Well you know about the no underwear rule, but it also
means that when I am in his presence or, on or in his
property I must be naked. While you were unaware of my
status I sought a dispensation, which he granted, so that I
did not have to strip before I entered this house, for
example." She snuggled closer to me. "But now he has
rescinded that and I must once again strip whenever I am
expected to, whether you are with me or not." She took a
deep breath. "I must also resume removing my pubic hair; all
of his slaves must be hairless there." She wriggled her
bottom in my lap. "I know you are ashamed of it my love, but
you cannot deny that you find this arousing." I blushed my
shame. "Do not be ashamed, darling, I am proud that you find
me arousing, it is, after all, what I am trained to be."

Despite the twinge that this produced, I was glad that she
felt that she could joke about it, somewhat, with me. She
stood and pulled me up from the settee and towards the
bedroom. "Go and get undressed while I get ready." I did as
she asked and lounged naked on the bed while I listened to
the sounds of Serena in the bathroom. Why is it, I wondered,
that women take so long to do the simplest things? And yet
stuff that we consider complicated they can do in
milliseconds?

"What are you doing in there?"

The sound of the shower drowned out her answer.

"I didn't hear that."

The shower stopped and she spoke again from the doorway. "I
said, 'you'll see!'" I certainly did; she had removed her
pubic hair and now her sex with its prominent lips was
completely exposed to me. I practically drooled; the erotic
vision before me completely drowned the incipient
realisation that she was doing this at another man's whim.
As she came closer I realised that there was now a small
chain attached to her clit-ring. As she walked the chain
swayed back and forth gently teasing her clitoris. She
moaned as she reached me. "God that makes me so horny. Now
let me take care of this." So saying she knelt on the bed
between my legs and engulfed me in a single smooth movement.
The feelings she evoked in me were incredible. Conscious
thought left me as I surrendered to her expertise and
fountained my release down her throat as she hummed her
approval.

It was several minutes before I felt able to speak again.
"Where did you learn to..." But I already knew where, or
rather who; the happiness that I had felt moments before
fled and left me heaving great, tearing sobs as I finally
gave in to the storm of emotions that I'd been holding at
bay. Serena held me to her breast and crooned wordless
sounds of comfort until the squall had passed. Finally I
stopped and looked up to see fresh tears on her face too.

"I'm so sorry to have hurt you this way my love; it was so
selfish of me to let you fall in love with me. I love you so
much darling, don't forget that."

"But all this," I waved my arm in an all-encompassing
gesture. "Master and slave business..." I was lost for
words.

"Please let him explain tomorrow. It will be easier for me
to talk to you after he has laid the groundwork."

She turned me on my front as she spoke and started to
massage my neck and shoulders. I felt the tension ease and
the next thing I knew it was morning and I was spooned
around my love with my 'morning glory' pressed into the
crease between her buttocks. She stirred as the alarm clock
beeped again, more insistently this time. I checked the
clock - 8:45 - time to get up. 

I blew gently into her ear and whispered, "Wakey, wakey,
sleepyhead."

Her usual grumpy grumbles were cut short. "What time is it?"

"Quarter to nine. The alarm has just gone off; I presume you
set it."

She subsided as her minor panic left her, then she slipped
out of bed and into the bathroom, I heard the shower start.
"Come and join me." She shouted over the sound of running
water. I followed her into the bathroom.

"Why the rush? Even you can't take more than half an hour to
do your hair and make up?"

"I'm going to be naked, so I have my whole body to do." 

Before I could say anything else she kissed me and dragged
me into the shower. She began to wash me; using her breasts
as a 'washcloth'. The feelings that this evoked drove
rational thought from my mind. Once I was rinsed she checked
that there was no soap residue left on my penis.
Unfortunately the checking resulted in the need to wash me
again. Once this was done she gently pushed me into the
bathroom and, while I was drying myself, shaving, and
brushing my teeth, she completed her shower. I started to
watch her get ready for him, but she turned and spoke.

"Please don't watch me, it will only cause you pain." I
realised that she was right and left her to it. As I got
dressed I found myself thinking of our first meeting...

-Continued-

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