Novice Slaveowner

Part 6

As much as I found his brother disgusting, I enjoyed Dan's company and he mine, I think. The only shadow in our relationship was Christine. He was obviously still very much in love and uncertain how to treat her, now she was a slave. I tried to ease the tension by keeping her out of the way when he came, but sensed that he was disappointed not to see her. I tried to have her serving us at table, but that made him embarrassed. I tried to have her in attendance when we relaxed on the terrace, sitting on the ground between our chairs. That distracted him. I tried to have Tim calling me to the phone, leaving them alone together for twenty minutes while observing discreetly from my bedroom window. They did exchange a few words, or rather Dan said something and she nodded, and he tentatively stroked her hair, only to make her stiffen. Finally I invited him up one afternoon after a game to let him find his naked girlfriend serving as my footstool, locked in the stocks. Her head was towards me, my feet resting on her back. He almost left on the spot, but with an effort limited himself to giving me a baleful glance and sat down, carefully averting his eyes. Steve knelt beside him, staring fixedly at the ground. "Angry with me?" He shook no, but kept his eyes averted. "I'm happy to hear that. Christine dropped a bottle of my very best Chablis at lunch. This is her punishment. Do you find it excessive?" "No, of course not". "Good". I changed the subject and we talked for an hour. Dan tried hard not to look at the tempting globes in front of him and the girl's exposed sex, but couldn't resist letting his eyes stray that way every now and then.

"Do you fuck your slavegirls?" I suddenly shot at him. He blushed. "Eh, I... Yes, I do". "And enjoy it?" "Why're you asking?" His voice had an angry edge. "Because I want to know if you consider it wrong". "I don't". "Even if the girls have no choice in the matter". "They're slaves, convicts". "And I suppose that you treat them kindly, unlike certain others". He didn't answer. "Do you hurt them, tie them up, spank them or whip them, when they're in your bed". "No!" Now he was angry. "I'm sorry, Dan. I have no intention of insulting or angering you by my questions, but they do have a purpose". He stared, then looked at the chained girl and up at me again. "Quite", I confirmed, "I'll offer you the use of my slavegirl". "I don't want her!" "Yes, you do. You love her, you're miserable every time you see her and just as miserable when not". He opened his mouth to protest. "And so is she. I can't have that, it's cruel to you, and what's more, it's cruel to Christine. I don't treat my slaves cruelly". "You don't, but...". "Hear me out. I'm not suggesting that you grab her, throw her on a bed and fuck her brains out. Even if I'm not sure that she wouldn't enjoy it". I felt her back trembling under my feet. "No, what I suggest is that you meet on equal terms, talk about what has happened, renew your friendship, forget your misery. After that, if both of you", I emphasised 'both', "want it, you may end up in a bed". He blushed furiously and shook his head. "And you'll not be fucking a slavegirl, but you beautiful beloved, who'll be just as happy as you". He shook no. "Yes. Can you dine with me tonight?" "I... Yes, thank you". "Good". I rose. "Come back at eight".

When he arrived, as always with Steve in attendance. I told him to leave his slave with mine and led him down to the next floor, where the evicted tenant's flat was still unoccupied. I'd planned using it when my father or mother came for a visit, and had it redecorated. When a bewildered Dan entered the parlour, he found his girlfriend beside a well-laid table, with fresh flowers and lighted candles. His girlfriend, yes, not a barefoot slavegirl in shorts. She wore a long, white, sleeveless summer dress, I'd bought her, and under that the finest lace underwear I'd been able to find, and a pair of high heeled sandals, with thin straps across her toes and around her slim ankles, leaving her practically barefoot. She'd groomed herself, set her hair and used the make up I'd given her. Only the ring around her neck revealed her status. Dan stopped abruptly when he caught sight of her and she almost dropped to her knees, but indicated a small curtsy instead, smiling shyly. "Your hostess for tonight, my friend, enjoy your dinner". I touched his shoulder and left.

I was on the terrace, discussing my, or rather our project with Fred when Dan returned. "Good dinner?" I called with a smile. He looked gravely at me, took a step forward and made to drop to his knees. "Don't!" I stopped him with a raised hand. "And don't thank me for doing a friend a favour". "But I, we...". "Are happy, just like me, so you've no need to be grateful". He shook his head and mumbled something. "And this was only the first of your weekly dinner dates". He stared. "Weekly?" "Or more often?" He shook no and turned away to wipe his eyes. "Good, just tell Fred in advance and it'll be arranged". "John, I...". "Am too upset just now, so good night". I rose to give him a hug and steer him towards the door. He stumbled away and I sat down again. "A glass of champagne in honour of our young lovers, Fred". "Yes, Sir". He disappeared for a moment, then came back, without the glass. I was about to ask why when it appeared beside me, offered by trembling hands. Christine was kneeling beside my chair, naked. "Thank you". I took the glass and sipped, then raised her head to meet her teary eyes. "Happy?" "Yes, Sir", she whispered. "Did your friend like the underwear?" I smiled teasingly. "He didn't see it, Sir". "You just talked and held hands?" "Yes, Sir". "Well, perhaps next time. I did choose it with care". "Next time, Sir?", she whispered. "I want you to host a weekly dinner for my friend, Dan". Her eyes brimmed over and large tears were running down her cheeks when she bowed to kiss my shoes. "You may leave now". "Yes, Sir". She didn't move. "May I serve you tonight, Sir?" "To show your gratitude. No, you may not". "No, Sir. Good night, Sir". She kissed my shoes again and left.

Tim looked up from my feet. "You have me hide, Sir, but I've got to say again that you're just so great, the best master in this world". "Because I let one of my friends borrow my slavegirl?" "Aw, Sir, 'tis not like that. She's so fucking happy, never seen no one so happy, less it's meself, Sir". His girlfriend did show up a few days after he and I had our little talk. A fair and pretty, petite girl, about half Tim's size. She was shy, of course, hesitatingly stating her business, but soon composed herself and impressed me with her calm self-assurance when questioned about her life. She'd had to leave high school because she couldn't afford the fees, but had tried to continue her education on her own, reading voraciously and using the facilities at the local library. Tim served us a bottle of wine and knelt by my chair like a good slave, but had trouble keeping his eyes to the floor. His pride was so obvious that it was almost comical. Of course I promised that she could borrow my slave one or two evenings a week, for whatever service she might need, but added an offer of a job as manager of the reception. Not that I was dissatisfied with the service-company's slaves and they'd continue doing most of the work, but a competent, and pretty, head-receptionist would be an asset, especially a free girl, whom the tenants had to treat politely. Some of them were rather brusque and demanding when dealing with the house slaves. She thought it over and accepted, provided that it was made clear that she'd be in charge and only answering to me. Like with her housemates, it worked well, so well in fact that I put her in overall charge of the day to day running of the estate, including the gardeners.

"You serve the young lady well?" He grinned hugely. "Do me best, Sir". "And you take care?" "Yeah, condoms are so damned expensive, Sir, but there are other ways of pleasing a mistress". "Ask Fred to buy some, for you and for Christine. We can't afford any mishaps, can we now?" "Aw, Sir, you're so kind". "When I'm beating and fucking you?" "We're your slaves, Sir, luckiest slaves in the world. Least I ain't never heard about no better master, but lots of much worse, like Steve's, not Master Dan, but...". "You like him?" "Steve? Great guy, Sir, but he's going down, won't be much left of him when he's released. Bloody shame it is". "Perhaps. He does seem a good sort, but can't be, really. Selling drugs is a very serious crime, in my opinion almost as bad as murder". "Sure, Sir, but he didn't sell no drugs". "He was found in possession of a fair amount of it". "Maybe, Sir, but he was no dealer". "What do you know about that?" He looked down. "Just something we know, Sir". "You and your friends. So you are criminals after all?" "No, Sir, but guys like us, we hear things". "I see, and you know this for a fact?" "We do, Sir. The drug business in this town's run by a black gang and Steve's white. They'd never allow a guy like him on their turf". I looked searchingly at him, but found only honest conviction. "But it couldn't be for his own use. Not a footballer like him". "Someone framed him, Sir". "Perhaps, yes, you could very well be right. Those drug dealers, to get rid of a competitor". "No, Sir. They'd kill him as a warning to others". He went to work on my feet again while I digested this new development. Of course there could be no doubt about who'd framed Steve, if Tim was right, and probably Julie as well. The more I thought about it, the more I believed that was what had happened, but what could I do about it? There was no evidence; just a suspicion based on the word of a slave and the fact that Harry hated the two of them. It proved absolutely nothing, but the thought kept nagging me.

"Augh!" Tim's right foot jerked. As so often before he was on my bed, wrists tied to the bedposts and legs forced up behind his ears, with his big toes lashed to the rail. I was working the hardened soles of his feet over with a cane prior to fucking him, but my thoughts had drifted back to the question of what to do about Steve and Julie. "Too hard was it? Sorry!" "Nah, Sir, I can take it". I dropped the cane and knelt to ease my cock into him. "I know, but this was not a punishment, just warming up". "Yessir, aah!" I took my time enjoying his hot hole, sliding slowly back and forth, but once again drifted away. "Argh, this doesn't work!" I withdrew, sitting back on my heels and began untying the boy. "Sorry, Sir. Don't know what I did wrong". "Nothing, Tim. I'm just not in the mood". "Maybe if you whipped me some more, Sir? Or I can get Fred". "No, fetch me a glass of wine. You can suck me". "Yessir". He hobbled out on his undoubtedly aching feet.

The problem kept nagging me. I had to do something about it, if only for my own sake. The first logical step was to get in closer contact with Harry to see if I could detect something to sustain my suspicions. I'd kept my distance, declined several invitations for lunch or dinner from the Allens, but politely, and the loathsome boy was always eagerly seeking my company, so a couple of days later I joined him and some of his cronies during a break between lectures. Like other groups of students they'd found a spot in the shade. All of them were drinking beer and some were having a smoke. The young masters and the mistress, of course. Their slaveboys were exercising. Just when I strolled over they were doing push-ups. "Fifty-two. Come on, you can do better than that, you lazy good for nothings!" Harry's girlfriend strode up and down the row of near-naked boys, slashing at their exposed buttocks with a riding crop. "Hello, John, can I offer you a beer?" Harry jumped up with a broad grin on his dark face and I saw that he'd been sitting on Julie's bare back. The girl was on all fours, visibly trembling with strain. "No, thanks. Tim!" "Yessir". My slave spread a blanket and worked the cork from the chilled bottle of white wine he had ready in a basket, filled a glass and offered it to me. "Sixty-eight". The crop danced on another bum. "Would you like a glass of wine?" I called to stop the cruelty. Her plain face lit up. "Why, yes, thanks". She came over to offer her hand and I indicated that she could sit down beside me. She waved impatiently at her slavegirl, who was on her hands and knees beside Julie, obviously used as another stool. The near naked girl crawled to the blanket and turned on her back beside me, raising her knees. Her mistress flopped down on the slavegirl's stomach, resting her back on her thighs, and accepted the glass Tim was offering. He kept his eyes to the ground, but his rigid stance revealed his anger. 'You're right, my boy, she's a bitch', I thought. Harry hesitated for a moment, apparently contemplating using his girl in the same way, but thought better of it. "My beer!" He snapped his fingers and Julie scurried over with a can. The other boys, who were sprawled on the grass, raised theirs in salute, but kept silent, used to letting Harry take the lead. "You can stop that, slaves, and take a tour around the compound", he called. The sweaty boys jumped up to shuffle away as fast as the short chains hobbling their ankles allowed. "Good for them", Harry sneered, "Resting all day at lectures".

We chatted for a while and the bitch asked about my country, where to go and what to do if one wanted to party. Her slavegirl must have found breathing difficult with the plump weight on her stomach and it got worse when her mistress kicked off her sneakers and waved her sweat soaked socks in her face. The bald girl raised her head to haul them off with her teeth and begin washing the bared feet with her tongue. I shuddered inwardly, but kept calm and answered her stupid questions as amiably as I could. Julie was on her knees beside her master, head hanging, obviously in very bad shape. The slaveboys came back, only to be sent for another round. "Thanks, John". The bitch beamed at me. "I'm off in a week for a six months stay and I sure don't want to miss any fun". She rested her cleaned foot on the licking girl's breast while the other was washed. "My dad's such a miser, won't give me the pocket money I need, so I have to sell this ugly slut. Can't bring her with me anyway, they don't keep slaves over there, do they?" I could only confirm that. "Silly! They're so convenient, but at least I can raise some cash on her. She was birthday present from my grandmother. I've had her for a year, so she's well trained by now. Should fetch me about twenty grand at auction, but I've been trying to sell her privately to save the commission. No luck, though, ugly as she is". She caught one the girl's nipple rings on her pinkie toe and hauled. The slavegirl winced with pain, but continued sucking the toes of her mistress' other foot. "Wouldn't she be something for you, John?" Harry interrupted. "She's a great cocksucker, takes it all the way down without gagging and it's great fun whipping those boobies. She can stand a lot of pain, never screams until after she's got at least thirty, and with a crop". I was about to decline the offer when I to my utter surprise heard Tim whispering, "Please, Sir, please, please!", in my ear and changed my mind. 'He really must have a very serious reason to dare making demands of his master', I thought. "Well, perhaps I could use another slavegirl". "Yess!" The bitch jumped up and kicked her. "Get up to let Master John have closer look, you lazy slut". The black girl rose and untied the strings to remove her only garment, a small triangle of white cloth, which barely covered her sex, clasped her hands behind her neck and spread her incredibly long legs as far as her ankle chain allowed. Four rings pierced her pussy lips, each pair locked with a brass padlock. "Not bad is she, for a slum girl?" Her mistress slapped her ample, but firm breasts and reached down to jingle the locks between her legs. "She's nineteen, got ten years for shoplifting, nine years left as a slave now. Always wet and horny, so I have to lock her up or she'll jump on every slaveboy she meets. How about nineteen grand?" She slapped the girl to make her turn and bend over. "Fine arse and a real tight hole". I was just about to explode when I heard another whispered, "Please, Sir, please!", and again wondered why Tim was suddenly so daring. "Well, I don't know... Eighteen?" "Deal!" The bitch was practically jumping with joy. "But I want to test her before closing it". "Of course, I'll send her over first thing tomorrow". "Better take her with me now. We've only got a week before you leave". "Well... OK, fine". "If she suits me, I'll keep her". "Great!" Harry looked at his watch. "Time to leave for the next lecture. My dad would very much like to see you for lunch, John. Are you free any time this week, or the next?" I wondered about his pleading, but told that I'd be delighted to come over one day next week.

The 'dirty dozen' left with their slaves, the bitch without a word to the girl who'd been serving her for the last year. She stood forlornly, staring at her chained feet, with a leash dangling from her collar. "What's your name, girl, and please cover yourself again?" "Nathalie, Sir". Tim was fervently kissing my shoes. "Oh, Sir! Thanks, Sir, thanks a million!" "What for, Tim? She can't be your girlfriend, or do you keep a harem?" He raised his head, looking at me with tears in his eyes. "She's me sister, Sir, got caught stealing food for us, 'cause that bitch of a mother we've got and her pimp never gave us nothing". "I see. That's why you dared making demands of your master, was it? You owe me one now, boy". "Owe you me fucking life, Sir". He kissed my shoes again. "Thank you, Sir". Nathalie dropped to her knees beside her brother. "I'll do all I can to serve you well, Sir". She had a pleasantly deep voice and her large brown eyes were looking softly at me. "Of course, that's what all of my slaves do". I rose and Tim looked up at me. "Can I give her a hug, Sir?" I nodded and he embraced her, dragging her up and whispering: "He's just about the greatest master in the world, Sis, ever so kind, and he doesn't beat his slavegirls". "When you've quite finished fondling my prospective slave, you may relieve her of that leash and give her your shirt". "Yessir". He beamed, whispering: "See, Sis?" "Do we have a key for her shackles?" "Guess so, Sir, back home". "Good, let's go". The slaves hastily gathered my belongings and followed me to the car. When Tim had stowed the blanket and basket away in the boot, his sister made ready to crawl in. "Hey, we don't do that here. You kneel on the floor, Sis", he whispered. She looked questioningly at me and I nodded her towards the front passenger seat.

Back at my house she hesitated before following Tim into the private lift to kneel beside him and I heard a whispered: "We're allowed using the lift here". Upstairs I told Fred to find some decent clothes for her and have her unshackled and cleaned up before presenting her to me. "Yes, Sir". I was digesting my lunch when he led her out, now dressed in a fresh white T-shirt and white shorts. She was about to kneel, but I stopped her with a wave of my hand, and she stood rigidly at attention, wrists crossed on her back, bare feet spread and eyes to the ground. 'Beautiful', I thought, and motioned her to turn around. Her fit, slim body and narrow little arse looked almost boyish. 'Tempting, very tempting'. "Are you a horny slut, as your mistress described you?" She turned, but kept her eyes to the ground. "If it may please you, Sir". "So I'll have to keep you locked up or you'll seduce Fred, or Tim?" "No, Sir". "Perhaps not Tim". She raised her eyes to look directly at me and I caught a glimpse of steel. "I serve as ordered and do all I can to satisfy my mistress or master, but I'm a slave, Sir, not a whore". 'Submissive, but not broken. Excellent!', I thought, but answered, frowning: "Rather cheeky for a slavegirl, aren't you? I do punish my slaves when they deserve it". "Yes, Sir". She lowered her eyes, but seemed quite unperturbed. "As I think I heard Tim tell you, I don't like whipping my slavegirls, but you'll be hurt in other ways if you do something to warrant a punishment". "Yes, Sir". "Good. Now back to your locks. Show me". "Yes, Sir". She drew down her shorts and took a step forward to present her shaven crotch. The labia lips were distorted by the rings and padlocks, which felt quite heavy when I weighed them in my hand. "Don't they hurt?" "Not any longer, Sir, unless they're pulled hard". "And that happens?" "Yes, Sir. When at home, the mistress locks my leash to the rings and drags me around by it. At night I sleep on the floor, chained by them to her bedpost and when I'm whipped, she uses a short chain to attach me to a ring in the wall, so I have to try keeping very still, Sir". I shook my head. 'What a damned bitch!' I noticed that her clit seemed very large and gently dragged it out to find it pierced by a barbell. "And she hangs weights from that, I suppose?" "Sometimes, Sir, and a chain with a bell when she goes to a party. The young mistresses and masters find it very amusing when I dance for them and the bell is ringing. Or bells, I have some in my nipple rings as well, Sir". "Bitch!" I mumbled. "And she lets her boyfriend use you?" "Yes, Sir, and other masters, sometimes slaves too. The young masters find it very stimulating to fuck me if a male slave has his cock up my arse when they use my other hole. He'll be chained spreadeagle on the floor; I squat over him, facing his feet, sit down on his cock and am chained on top of him. Then the masters take me". "They do that in public?" I looked incredulously at her. "At private parties, Sir. Some of the mistresses have very strict parents and dare not bed their boyfriends, so they position us slaves like that. Then a young master enters me and his girlfriend straddles my head to be licked. In that way they can embrace and caress each other, having sex together without any risk of angering her parents". She looked calmly at me. "Very often they whip us between the legs before using me, to get in the right mood, Sir. Master Harold's slavegirl is sometimes tied up beside me in the same way and the young masters take turns enjoying us".

"Good lord!" I was truly shocked at the depravity. "I can hardly believe what you're telling me, but at least you may be spared that from now on". "You'll buy me, Sir?" Her eyes lit up and a ghost of a smile was playing on her lips. "I may and as you've probably understood, I treat my slaves a bit more kindly than some owners". "Yes, Sir". "But you are my slaves and I expect you to work hard and behave as slaves should". "Yes, Sir". "I prefer fucking my slaveboys, so I'll probably not use you for sex, except an occasional blowjob". "No, Sir". "Will that be a problem for you?" She looked questioningly at me. "Being denied the joys of sex you're used to?" "No, Sir, and I didn't enjoy it". "Not at all? At least you must have got some relief, we all need that". Her eyes flashed angrily. "No, Sir. I didn't enjoy being hurt and humiliated, Sir. Not at all, and it didn't give me any sexual relief to be humped by a bunch of perverts or lick a smelly cunt". "Not just cheeky, are you, but downright insubordinate?" The eyes didn't waver. "Yes, Sir". "Not even 'Sorry, Sir'?" "No, Sir. You asked and I told you how I feel. I hate my mistress and her perverted friends. I've committed a crime, been caught and sentenced, so I'm a slave for the next nine years, have to work hard, suffer punishment and abuse. I have to serve my owner obediently and humbly, and I do. But, Sir, I'm a human being, not an animal. I have feelings and opinions. If treated fairly, I respect my owner, if not, I despise her". I had to fight an urge to smile to her. "Quite a handful, aren't you? I'm beginning to doubt that you'll fit into my peaceful household". She looked gravely at me. "You're a fair master, Sir". "And will gain a good slave, if I buy you?" "Yes, Sir". "Very well, we'll see, but perhaps you need an extra reminder. I'll punish you as I punish my other slavegirl, but if you really piss me off, I'll take out my anger on your brother, understood?" "Yes, Sir". "Fair enough?" "I'd prefer if you whipped me, Sir. I'm used to that". "But I don't beat girls". "No, Sir".

"Good. Fred is head slave and responsible for running my household, so you'll take your orders from him". "Yes, Sir". "Now find Tim and make him show you around". "Yes, Sir". She fell to her knees and kissed my shoes before picking up her shorts and going back inside. My head slave knelt beside my chair. "I've already decided to buy her". "Yes, Sir". "That ought to make Tim happy". "Much more than happy, Sir. Nat too". "But it may cause problems to have siblings serving together. She or he may resent what I do to the other". "I think not, Sir". "I hope you're right, but I want to make sure. The two of them can serve my dinner and see me to bed tonight". "Yes, Sir". "You move to the spare bedroom you're already using as a study. She can have your bed". "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir". "Now we have four slaves you can just give them your orders and use more of your time on our studies". "Yes, Sir". "And not just my study. I want you to finish that thesis of yours as soon as possible". "Yes, Sir. You don't want me serving you?" "In the morning as usual, but apart from that, only if I order it". "Yes, Sir".

He left and was replaced by Tim, who mutely kissed my shoes before taking up his position behind my chair. My new slavegirl served tea in the afternoon and knelt beside me while her brother left for other duties. They took turns serving my dinner and I enjoyed watching the lithe black girl sliding silently around, taking short steps as if she were still shackled. When I finally rose after having enjoyed the cool of the evening and closed my book with a yawn, she jumped up from her knees and followed me to the bedroom, poking her head through the door to the hall on the way. Seconds later Tim came running and dropped to his knees to relieve me of shoe and sock. His sister knelt beside him to take care of my other foot and I was soon sighing with pleasure when two hot tongues began washing and sucking on my feet. "Good, is she, Sir?" Tim looked up briefly. "And taught well". "I know what you like, Sir". They finished and undressed me. "Shower, Sir?" "Yes". Tim dropped his shorts and hurried to the bathroom. I followed to dug under the pleasantly hot spray and he began lathering up my back. A moment later his naked sister was washing my front. Her soft hands slid over my chest and down my belly before she knelt to soap up my legs and feet. I wondered what came next, but she didn't hesitate a second before continuing with my genitals. My cock jerked and stiffened when she cupped her soapy hands around it and she looked up. "You want me to suck you off, Sir?" "No, just finish washing me". "Yes, Sir".

They wrapped me in soft towels and hurriedly dried themselves while I brushed my teeth. Back in the bedroom I told them to display themselves and keenly watched Tim's eyes, while I fondled his sister's breasts and told her to turn and bend over, spreading her arsecheeks. "Hmm, nice little hole, don't you think?" Not even a hint of resentment crossed his face when he with a grin looked down at the puckered entrance. "If it please you, Sir". "It may. Kneel on the bed, show your holes". There was no hesitation when they got into position and I looked from one arsecrack to the next. "Hmm, you seem very much alike, but let's see how tight you are". I wormed a finger up Nathalie's tunnel and felt around, added another and tried to widen it. Her hands were shaking, but she didn't utter a sound and kept her cheeks spread. "Nice, very nice". I withdrew my fingers to ram them up her brother's familiar chute. "She's tighter than you. Perhaps we should make it easier for her. Lick her arse, Tim". "Yes, Sir". I withdrew my soiled fingers and sat down beside the kneeling girl, waving them at her face. Without a flinch she opened her mouth to clean me, while her brother scrambled on his knees behind her to begin licking the crack she held open for him. If I hadn't already been convinced of Tim's unfailing loyalty and devotion, I was now, but perversely I decided to put them through the last test. "She's ready, Sir". The grin seemed a bit strained, but it was still there. "Not quite. She's a bit too tight for my taste. You've better lubricate her". "Yessir". He rose to fetch the jelly. "No, I want her heated too. Fuck her until you spurt, but hurry, I can't wait all night". His jaw dropped and the girl went rigid, but his hand shot down to grab the flaccid cock and begin stroking it hard. He kept staring at me, trying to plead with his eyes, but when I just looked impatiently back, he sighed deeply, lining up the large member to plunge in. Just when the head touched the entrance, I held up my hand. "You can stop that, I've changed my mind. Better the hole I know than one that may hurt me". I'd never seen a wider grin on Tim's face than when he with a sigh of relief took a step back. "Yessir, and I get the whip so you can heat it up real good". His sister went limp and slumped forward, burying her face in her trembling hands. "No, just a good long fuck, Tim. You may leave now, girl". I gave her arse a light slap and she rose, but stumbled and dropped to her knees. "And I'll buy you". "Thank you, Sir, thank you!" She was covering my feet in kisses, not because of my latest announcement, I don't think. "No need. As you may have guessed, this was a test of your obedience, which you passed. Can you remove her pussy rings and the padlocks, Tim, or do we have to call a doctor?" "I can do it, Sir. Just cut them open". "Do that tomorrow, then". "Yessir". "Thank you, Sir". She kissed my feet again, rose gracefully, gathered her clothes and left while I turned to her naked brother. "On your back, I think".

Nathalie was a delightful addition to my household, a perfect slavegirl. I'd never had any reason to complain about the way my flat looked, but after a few days sensed that a new hand had taken over. The hand of a girl who knew how to add that little extra which made everything just right. Delicate flower arrangements, a chair moved here and a table there, small things, but noticeable. Christine had always concentrated on her cooking and was much too shy to make changes without being told. I wondered how Nathalie, a girl from a poor and abusive family, had gained such skills. 'Must have been born with them', I thought and she didn't hesitate making use them. Not that she was offending in any way, far from it. She was submissive, completely absorbed by her present task, to make me comfortable, but not subdued like Christine. In spite of the harsh treatment she'd suffered during her first year as a slavegirl, she wasn't broken. Like her brother, and Fred, she kept her own counsel, but where Tim was cheerful, almost cocky, and Fred calm, undisturbed, she was dignified, kept her head high, in spirit and body. To watch her sliding gracefully around, kneel down in one fluent motion to serve me, even washing the floors or dusting the shelves, was like looking at a piece of art. And she knew it, loved showing off her beautiful body, feeling my admiring eyes upon it. Not that she tried to seduce me, offer herself, gain my favour, but she knew what she had and was proud of it.

She could turn even a punishment into a victory. A few days after I'd bought her Fred reported that both of my girls had to be chastised. "But I can't use more than one footstool!" I eyed the two naked beauties standing behind him, hands clasped on their backs and heads bowed. Fred looked flustered. "No, Sir". "So what do I do about the other offender?". "I, eh…". "Can I suggest something, Sir?" The black girl didn't raise her head. "Unless it's a caning". "Thank you, Sir. If you want to use Chris, you could hang me from the patio beam, on my toes, Sir". I eyed her speculatively. "Well, I suppose I could. String her up, Tim, and stretch her hard". "Yessir". Christine was soon bent double in front of me, locked into the stocks, with my feet resting on her bare buttocks. Tim returned with four lengths of rope. Nathalie got into position, spread her arms to have her wrists lashed to a horizontal beam and her legs to let Tim tie her ankles to the supporting poles, stretching her magnificent body painfully. And there was no doubt about that. She was in pain, very much so. Half hanging from her wrists, only allowed supporting her body by the tips of her long toes, she was soon suffering severe cramps. Small rivulets of sweat were running down her torso, but nevertheless she didn't utter a sound, not even a faint moaning, and kept her head high. I pretended to be reading, but of course couldn't keep my eyes from straying to her, admiring the display of teenage flesh and, yes, I admit it, enjoying the agony I was causing her. Or was I? She was suffering, but that only enhanced her beauty, and she knew it. Her eyes held a mixture of pain and triumph, and perhaps something else. Was she actually revelling in her pain? I doubted it until I saw drops of moisture gathered on her labia lips. 'A natural submissive?' I mused. 'No, not submissive, but a strong girl, with a deep urge to be hurt, to find sexual relief in suffering'. An hour went by, and another. The body under my feet began to tremble and Christine's breath came in short gasps. Her time was up and I rose, gesturing Tim to release her, and went over to my new slavegirl, running my hands down her body, twisting her nipple rings, pinching her engorged clit, finally forcing a moan from her. "You like this, don't you?" I kept my voice low, so only she could hear me. "Yes, Sir". Her eyes caught mine and held them. "A painslut?" "No slut, Sir, but being helpless does excite me". "It turns you on?" She nodded. "And is that enough for you. Or should I make Fred fuck you, hanging like this?" She hesitated. "If it may please you, Sir". "But will it please you?" "No, Sir. In a consensual lovers' game, it would, but…". "Not forced by a master, to entertain him?" "I'd be happy to please my master in any way he wants, Sir". I put my fingers to her lips and she kissed them softly. "I hope you'll find an understanding lover, once you're free".