This story is dedicated to Lisa Jones, a true friend and great writer whose help and guidance on this and other of my stories has inspired me more than she knows

1. The End of a Day

Deanna began to slowly roll her head to and fro on her pillow, her hands alternately grasping at the bed sheets, as Michael kneeling at the side of her bed, the short end of the double ended dildo firmly clenched between his teeth, began to plunge the longer pleasure end of the device deeper and more urgently into her inner recesses.  Her moans, which had slowly been building in intensity, were now becoming gasps and full throated groans as she approached the convulsion that was soon sure to come.  He could smell, and almost even taste despite his full mouth of rubber, the musk of her juices that were beginning to seep out around his ever more vigorous thrusts.  He knew that she was close and this spurred him on to even more ardent efforts.  At that moment he desired nothing more that to bring her gloriously up and over the brink to that ecstasy that would fulfill his one and only purpose for the night.

It had all begun earlier in the evening when he had been summoned by her.  None of them ever knew which of them might be called for this service at any given time.  Thrilled, as he always was when he was the one chosen, he had entered her bedroom naked as was the requirement for this particular function, and had stood head bowed at the door awaiting her bidding.  She was lying prone on her bed, covered only by a sheet, her head with eyes closed, resting comfortably on her folded arms beneath her.  Her night lamp was dimmed low and for several long moments as he stood there he wasn’t sure if she was aware that he had arrived.  It was not his place to speak first however, but his growing anxiety was finally quelled when she opened her eyes, turned her face toward him, and simply said,  “Come.”

He made his way quickly to her side and knelt down.  She regarded him, expressionless, for a few more moments, and then a small smile began to play on her lips as she uttered her next command.

“Bathe me.” she said

“Yes My Lady.  Thank you.” he reverently replied, knowing now what was required.  He reached up and carefully pulled the covering sheet off of her, finding her also naked beneath.  Starting at the bottom of one foot he began to run his tongue in long, slow, broad laps up over her heel onto the back of her leg, over her calf, up to the back of her knee, covering every inch with leisurely strokes, before proceeding up the back of her upper leg.  Reaching the bottom crease of her derriere he ceased and returned to the bottom of her other foot and performed the same sensuous service to that leg.

Upon reaching the lower fold of her other cheek, this time he played his tongue within and across it to the other side, then swirling it slowly in ever smaller circles around each mound, missing no part of either.  Eventually he extended it up and down the center crack, eliciting from her as he did so soft purrs of pleasure.

In further response Deanna lifted her pelvis slightly up and off the bed.  Taking this intended cue Michael cupped each half of her bottom in his hands, spreading them apart to expose her lower portal, which he instantly began to profusely lave.  Luxuriating in this ultimate homage to her nether orifice for several long minutes she finally lowered her hips back down onto the bed, clearly indicating that it was time for him to move on.

He brought his tongue to the small of her back, covering it all before bringing it up the length of her spine, and then around each shoulder blade, to each flank, before returning to her shoulders, ending at last with light grazes over the back of her neck.

Sighing softly Deanna turned over onto her back as Michael moved his tongue to the front of her throat.  He would go no higher.  None of them were ever allowed the privilege or grace of her lips or mouth.  These were far above any of their roles or station.  Understanding this fully he came down to the cleft between her breasts, and then retracted his tongue to its very tip before ranging over the expanse of each, ever so lightly lingering over each  of her hardening nipples.

Arching her back and mewling softly in clear invitation to proceed further down he re extended his tongue and played it lovingly over her entire belly, paying special attention to, and flicking it in and out of her navel.  Mews became moans as Deanna then bent up her knees, spreading them apart, and put a hand on his head pushing him down, signaling without any question that her bath was now finished, and she now had more urgent needs and uses for his lips and tongue.

Michael shimmied down off the side of the bed back onto his knees and positioned his face between her bent up thighs.  For a moment he gazed adoringly at his holiest of holies, but he wasn’t there to revere but to serve, as some up and down motion of his Lady’s pelvis made abundantly clear.  He immediately moved forward to bring his nose and mouth in contact with her already moist and glistening outer lips, which he gently began to nuzzle and nibble.  He continued as such for over a minute bringing on even more swaying of her hips.  Suddenly she spread her knees wide, opening the way to her treasure within, inviting ... urging ... demanding that he move forth.  He obeyed at once, his tongue darting out to join its moisture with her own, seeking and finding her now exposed jewel, swirling around and around it, and then pursing his lips as if trying to capture it between as he began to suck as well as lick, and she began to buck ever more vigorously in response.

He slid his tongue further into the cleft, probing deeper into her sanctum.  He extended it as far as he was able, trying to stiffen it as much as possible, pushing it back and forth ever more rapidly.  Deanna’s entire body began to tingle as she felt herself fast approaching the crest.  But she knew that she required more, she needed greater penetration than could be provided by a mere tongue.  None of her slaves however, no matter how fond she might be of any of them, could ever be allowed such entry within her.  This was crucial for her own sake, as much as to absolutely maintain the strict hierarchy she had created.  But she wanted, needed more.  And she was never to be denied.

“The joystick, Michael.” she hungrily, breathlessly commanded.

Michael pulled back and reached under the bed, easily finding the open box with the appliance within, where it was always kept to be readily available at need.  Brushing aside the cloth covering, he brought out the double ended dildo, inserted the shorter end into his mouth, and as swiftly as possible secured the straps around his head.  It would not do to make his Lady wait.

At once his positioned his face, with the longer end of the joystick jutting forth, between her legs and carefully guided it to and through her bottom folds, up and into her impatiently awaiting vault.  With his first stroke he slowly advanced it in its full length, eliciting from her an arched back and a long guttural sigh.  Using his face then as the engine to piston faster and faster, she began to squirm and then writhe, rising higher and higher to the top of the wave.  In moments she was there and knew that it would soon break and she would get the ride she so desperately desired.

And then it broke and crashed forward and she was flung as if in free form tumbling wildly within with almost no control.  She clamped her thighs tightly around his face and sat up as much as she was able, locking both of her hands on the back of his head to keep it firmly in place, the device buried fully inside as she now rocked back and forth providing all the movement, and at least some semblance of her own volition.

With her head arched back a scream she couldn’t hear in the tumult erupted from her as the wave surged forward from every fiber of her body to gush, as her juices surged out around the appliance to soak the face imprisoned below.  It went on and on as she gripped tighter and tighter, and rocked more vigorously and vigorously, until the wave, almost blessedly, began to recede, and her cries became whimpers, and she finally released her hold, opened her legs, and fell back on the bed, exhausted.  But sated.

Michael drew back as unobtrusively as possible, quickly unfastening the joystick and laying it on the floor by his side.  He remained kneeling, head bowed, awaiting her dismissal, or, dare he even hope, that this night might be one when she would allow him blessed relief.

Deanna lay softly panting as she slowly came back within herself.  That had been most enjoyable, as it almost always was.  After several minutes she turned her head slightly to regard her kneeling slave.  She knew what he, what they all so fervently desired, and she did attempt to occasionally grant it, just often enough to keep them ever striving to please her to perfection enough to attain it.  Not too often, she knew, or it would lose its motivating allure.  How long had it been for Michael?  Maybe a month, she surmised.  It was so hard to keep track with all of them.  And his service had been exemplary, not just tonight, but in all of his day to day duties, not that she would ever tolerate anything less.  So, on a whim, she decided that this night she would grant his always unspoken plea.  She raised her hand languidly toward him.

“You may masturbate, Michael.”

He almost swooned in front of her.

“Thank you my Lady.” he could barely answer in a whisper.  Collecting himself he brought a trembling right hand up to embrace his rock hard manhood.  In reality, it had been well over seven weeks since his last release, and almost six weeks from the time before that.  It had become apparent that the intervals between such allowances for all of them appeared to be growing longer and longer.  But he had no right to question, only to be ever grateful for whenever and whatever reward his Lady might deign to bestow.

He began to stroke, slowly at first, hoping to savor the sensation for as long as possible.  As he did so he bent forward and began to kiss her toes and the bottoms of her feet.  This was the inviolate protocol established for him, that whenever given sufferance to pleasure himself so he could only do so while paying  oral homage to her feet, to more firmly symbolize his place in her world.  She also understood however that he regarded this allowance as a cherished gift as well.  Truth be told, she had to admit to herself, she often got quite a rush from it herself, although as time had gone on the thrill, while still pleasant, had become less and less.  Still, rituals and protocols, for all of them, needed to be observed, to keep it all on a solid footing.  This time though, she was barely aware of his worship as she lay back, staring above as her mind drifted.

Michael began to pump harder, his left hand positioned in front to catch every drop of his emission when it came.  This was another rule that dared never be broken.  His veneration of her feet became even more ardent as his right hand pumped ever more furiously.  Suddenly even Deanna became aware that his adoration of her feet was becoming more ragged and somewhat sloppy, then actually haphazard as he began to grunt in spasms, in time to what she realized was finally erupting below.  Given the duration since his last ejaculation he had copious amounts of cum to collect..  Even after all pleasure had subsided he continued to squeeze and milk to get every last drip into his hand, his heaving breaths slowly calming in the process.  At last all such dribbling appeared to end, and Michael bowed his head once again, cupped his right hand under his goo-filled left, and extended them up toward her.

Deanna glanced down at the large puddle of the pearly translucent offering which filled his entire palm.  Now for the final act of the ritual.  A ghost of a smile graced her lips.

“You may consume your offering, Michael.”

“Thank you, My Lady.” he sighed as he brought his hand to his mouth, and under her indolent gaze, lapped and licked until it was completely clean.  When this was done, she turned her head away.

“Send Edward in.” was all she said.

“Yes, My Lady.  Thank you, My Lady”

Thus dismissed he arose off his knees, picking up the joystick as he went.  He would later lick it completely clean, before washing it with soap and water, and then replacing it back under her bed for future use whenever she required it.

A mere minute after he departed a distinguished looking gentleman, dressed in full butler attire, entered the room.  Appearing decidedly younger than his seventy years, Edward was Deanna’s oldest slave, both in age and longevity of service.  He had been the first she had acquired, over five years ago, and he had become over that time her chief administrator, her major domo, who kept her growing household and stable running as a well oiled machine.  He had also become her personal attendant ... and even an advisor and confidante, something even a Domme needed at times.  For all of these reasons and more she had developed a special fondness for him, something he would never dare to believe, but which he always strove mightily to deserve.

“My Lady?” he inquired deferentially once he had stepped inside the bedroom door.

“My robe and slippers, Edward.”

“Yes, My Lady.”

He strode briskly to her walk in closet and came out seconds later with a white silk robe and a pair of furred slippers which he brought over to her bedside.  She sat up and shifted her legs over the side.  He put the robe down carefully beside her, and then knelt down to place the slippers onto her feet.  She arose and he also stood, picked up the robe and helped her into it, finally tying it for her in front.

“I’m going to freshen up a bit before bed.” she informed him as she walked toward her personal bathroom.

“Yes, My Lady.” he answered to her receding back as she entered it and closed the door behind.  Ten minutes later she re emerged to find, as was expected, her rumpled bed remade, her pillows propped and plumped, and the sheets and covers smartly turned down.  On her bed as well, her satin nightgown and a pair of panties were carefully laid out, as Edward stood unassuming at the foot of her bed awaiting her return.

She made her way back to the side of her bed where he helped her out of her robe, once again revealing her nudity beneath.  She sat down on the edge and he immediately knelt down to take off her slippers, and then reached up to take her panties off the bed and guide her feet and legs through until they were up and settled in their proper place.

“Moisturizer.” she said.

Edward reached over to the bedside table for a bottle of lotion.  He poured some liberally into his hands, then rubbed them together to warm it.  Beginning with one of her feet he applied it smoothly and evenly up her leg to the top, then pouring more lotion into his hand did the same for her other foot and leg.  Deanna leaned back and he stood up to spread more over her belly, up, around and over her breasts, not lingering there any longer than was necessary.  This was not playtime, nor even the long, soothing body massage that was also one of his regular duties to her.  This was simply his bedtime care of her skin.

After he reached the front of her neck she straightened up and turned to her side so he could minister to her back and shoulders.  Once he was done she reached over to the bed stand for her jar of facial creme.  As always, contact with her face was forbidden for any slave ... or anyone else for that matter.

Rubbing some in over her entire face she then recapped the jar, handed it to Edward to put back, and stood up.  He helped her into her nightgown and then pulled down the covers of her bed more fully for her entrance.  She sat and then slid her legs beneath, laid her head back on her pillow, and looked up at him.

“Is Thomas attended?” she asked

“Always, My Lady.” he replied.

She turned her gaze away from him.

“Seven o’clock, Edward.”

“Yes, My Lady.”

“Good night, Edward.”

‘Good night, My Lady.”

As he departed she settled back more comfortably into her pillows.  It had been a full and busy day, with a pleasant enough nightcap at the end.  She reached over to turn off the lamp on her bed stand.

She drifted off to sleep, vaguely unsatisfied. 

   

 

This is the 2nd part of a 12 part tale of a Lady and her stable of slaves

2. Binding Attachments

The next morning, precisely at 7 am, Edward re-entered the bedroom and quietly made his way over to Deanna’s bedside and gently touched her shoulder.  She had never liked being awoken by an alarm clock nor by the sound of a blaring clock  radio, but much preferred, now demanded being nudged awake by the a soft jostle, as Jared had once always done when he lay on the other side of the bed.  Now it was Edward who performed this daily service standing fully uniformed over her.

She groaned and murmured sleepily.  “Fifteen more minutes.”

“Yes, My Lady.” he replied and moved over to stand in the far corner so as not to be hovering over her.  Exactly fifteen minutes later he was back, hand carefully on her shoulder once again.

“It’s time, My Lady.”

She groaned again, but this time raised her arms over her head to stretch.  After several seconds she dropped them back to her sides and opened her eyes for the first time.

“Robe and slippers.” she ordered.

“Right away, My Lady.”

Edward strode away and within seconds returned from her closet with a different robe and slippers from those of the night before.  Deanna kicked off her covers and sat up, extending her arms up again in a prolonged stretch, this time accompanied by a huge yawn.  When she was done Edward knelt down to place the slippers on her feet, then arose as she did to help her don her robe.

“Good morning Edward.” she finally said.

“Good morning, My Lady.”

“I’ll be back in a bit.  Have everything ready when I get out.”

“As always, My Lady.”

With that she walked over and into her bathroom, closing the door behind her, to take care of her morning necessities.

********

Deanna was in her late thirties, with long brown hair that hung down just below her shoulder blades, perfectly accentuating her slim yet well proportioned figure.  Though not conventionally beautiful in the Hollywood starlet sense she had a presence that was almost always riveting and alluring.  Her most striking feature was her eyes, which could wordlessly convey her passions at any time, dancing when delighted, gleaming when satisfied, sparkling when happy ... to piercing when perplexed, smoldering when frustrated, and burning when actually angry.  Her slaves constantly strove to produce the thrill of the former ... and trembled when subjected to any of the latter.

She was a highly acclaimed writer in the romantic fiction genre, having had three hugely popular best sellers.  Her latest book, recently published, was not doing quite as well, probably because it was of a darker nature from her earlier works.  But given her stature and fan base it was still selling briskly.  She was currently at work on her fifth venture.

She had met Jared when they were both in their late twenties.  He was a moderately successful major league baseball player, while she was still just an aspiring novelist not yet halfway through the rough draft of her first book.  They quickly connected and soon became a couple.  It was Jared who had introduced her to the concept of dominance and submission.  Over time, as they had become completely comfortable with each other, he had confessed his submissive nature and tendencies to her and his desire for her dominance.  Initially reluctant, having little knowledge of how this might work in real life, she did begin to play at it with him.  At first it was only at specific times and in certain circumstances, mostly under his direction as she allowed him to top from the bottom, not minding that as she was ever learning from the experiences.  It wasn’t long before she realized how much she enjoyed it all and began taking more of a lead, their games becoming more frequent and adventurous and more a vital part of their lives.

As Jared was often away on his team’s road trips she would utilize that time to actively explore and examine the myriad facets of this lifestyle’s activities that were presented on the Net.  Many of these she would incorporate into their playtime when he would return.  Some he did not enjoy all that much, but that was all part and parcel of the power exchange she would explain.  She was finding this all becoming more and more part of her inner core and how she defined and saw herself, and she believed that Jared sincerely felt the same.  Still she understood that trust, to see to each other’s safety needs and care, was a vital component of their relationship at all levels, and she vowed to herself never to betray that.

After living together as such for nearly five years Jared found himself nearing the end of his productive life as a professional athlete.  This might not only have been due to his age but also because his focus had been increasing drawn elsewhere.  Though still a young man otherwise, given the bounties accrued for virtually anyone even modestly accomplished in a major professional sport, he was financially set and secure for the rest of his life.  So he felt that the time was right to settle down and devote all of his energies to their relationship.

While both of them were aware that this was a direction which they were likely heading, Jared, after the completion of his most recent season, one in which he had performed poorly leading many pundits to suggest that he might retire or even be released, made plans to make their union more official.  So one night after a lovely night out on the town they returned to the apartment they shared together and he had her sit in the big easy chair in the living room.  He then got down on one knee before her and offered up to her a flawless two caret diamond ring.  Though such a moment and event had not been completely unexpected, Deanna still felt an utter exhilaration as he placed the ring on her finger.

“Oh Jared, I’m so happy.” she enthused, her eyes beaming.  “It’s going to be so unbelievably wonderful having you as my full time slave forever.”

Jared’s joyous expression became a bit quizzical as he put his other  knee down and sat back on his heels.

“Dee, I’m asking to be your husband.” he ventured.

“Oh, being a husband is just a legal convention.” she answered gaily.  “You know that what we’ve been evolving is so much more than that, the complete surrender of you to my will and ownership.”

Deanna was never one to joke very much, though she had a good sense of humor.  Tease maybe, but rarely joke.  Jared wondered cautiously whether she was doing so now.  He just wasn’t sure.

“Deanna, I know we’ve been playing these games a lot, maybe a little bit too much, but we’ve both enjoyed them and we certainly can continue them in the future.  But we’re going to be husband and wife.  Life partners.  Equal and fully supportive of each other in every way.

Her eyes pierced him.  “No Jared.  That’s not what this is about.  It stopped being a game long ago, and became our life.  I thought you understood and embraced that.

“You can’t be serious.” he replied incredulously.

“Deadly serious.” she responded, shocked and becoming very upset that he didn’t feel the same way.  Her eyes flashed with vehemence.  “Look Jared, I don’t know where you thought this was all going, but I know where I expected and demand that it go.  That you pledge your life now and forever, your entire being totally as my slave and property to be used as I will.  It’s what I want, and what you need.”  Her voice and even her eyes grew softer.  “You know I will take the greatest care of it because I care so much for you.”  More steel again, especially in her glare.  “But it ... you ... will be mine to use how so ever I desire.  If you can’t accept that ... if you don’t accept that ... then let me know right now.”

Jared, all joy now gone from his face, stared up into her eyes, and they locked together and held.  After many long moments he knew that this was no joke.  She meant every word that she said.  He just never would have believed.  Sure, they had embarked on some very different ways of interacting and developing their relationship, ways that they both had found so perfectly fit what they had discovered they were inside.  And that had been the glue that had bound them so much more closely together.  But it was only supposed to be a foundation, not the entire structure, the whole sum and substance of who and what they were to be for each other.  As he sank more deeply into her resolute and unyielding gaze he no longer had any doubt that for her ...it was.  He slowly dropped his eyes to the floor and stood up.

“I can’t accept that.” he said quietly.

Her eyes burned as enraged she pulled off the ring and flung it at him.  As an adept ballplayer he reflexly caught it against his body.

“Then get out.  Now.  And never come back.  You’ve made your choice.  The only one I’ll ever give you.  GO!!!”

He was shaken.  “Please Dee.  We mean too much to each other to throw it all away for something as stupid as ... “

”STUPID.” she practically screamed.  “Is that how you see it?  It doesn’t seem so stupid to you when you’re groveling at my feet.”  Her eyes widened with wonder.  “It’s EVERYTHING to me.”

He had to give it one more chance and try.

“Dee, I want you to be my WIFE.”

Her eyes became hooded and implacable, as her voice lowered and hardened.

“I have to be so much more.”

He raised his eyes to look at her one last time.  He knew now that there was no turning back.   How could he have gotten it so wrong?  Where had it gone so wrong?  But it had.  Slowly but resolutely he turned and left.

********

Deanna had fully expected that Jared would come crawling back to her.  They had been through and meant so much to each other.  She readily acknowledged that she had lost her temper, during what should have been the happiest event of her life.  She also had to admit that she had been somewhat cavalier about his concerns and feelings at that moment.  Of course, she emphatically thought to herself, he was going to be her husband and she his wife, life partners sharing and forging a life together with all the caring and intimacy which that joyously entailed.  But he had to have realized that she needed him in a very real sense to be her slave as well.  It had been he after all who had started them down this path, who had planted the seed within her, and they both had nurtured it as it had grown and flowered.  It was now a vital part of her, who she was, and what she wanted to continue to develop and be.  And she had always believed that he wanted and needed this as well, and that he would always be there for her, to serve and play his part, just as she would play hers for him.  It would be the perfect meshing of their inner selves.  Maybe she had over stressed that aspect a bit too much, but that was part of the dynamic, wasn’t it?  And when he had flatly rejected it she had lost it at that moment.   She would make sure, when he returned, that he understood all of this, and that she would always be there for him and would never abuse his trust and the gift of himself that he was offering up to her.

But Jared never did return, never even called, to her shock and consternation.  He had left her high and dry, without any opportunity to explain, to make it all come out right.  She remained in a daze feeling betrayed for weeks before slowly coming out of it, with a determination and an even greater craving to dominate and be in control.  To never again be in a position of vulnerability to be hurt and deceived.  She vowed to herself that she would always be fair but from this point on all direction and choices would be hers, and hers alone.  How and in what fashion to achieve this became her overriding passion.

So after this period of time she was finally able to submerge her bitterness and wall it off within.  She returned to the Web and began actively engaging in a wide variety of D/s blogs and femdom chat rooms.  She developed and evolved her persona, Lady D, who soon became a well known and appreciated contributor to these sites.  For the most part she kept her interactions in these postings impersonal, merely exploring and commenting extensively on the D/s lifestyle and orientation in general, but never revealing any private information about herself.

There was one blog though that she was increasingly drawn to, and had actually been following even before her breakup.  It was written by a college professor who several times a week would write about his ongoing and increasingly lonely struggles with being a secret submissive, and his inability to act upon these urges and desires while being in his position as a well regarded and respected academic in a small insular university town.  He would write in the most creative and seductive ways about his fantasies on how he would serve and be used by The Woman who would care enough to own him.  While these were acknowledged fantasies they were grounded enough in reality that one could easily imagine them truly being lived as such, and Lady D thoroughly enjoyed reading and commenting upon them, even as the blogger would always readily and dejectedly admit that he did not have the courage or the strength to expose and reveal himself so.

There came a time though when he announced on his blog that he had reached the mandatory retirement age at his university, and that he was planning to move away to a bigger, more anonymous city environment where he hoped that he could finally dare to experience what he considered his real self, in real life.

Over the next several months he detailed on his blog his at first tentative, then more resolute but increasingly disappointing forays into the D/s world, from multiple visits to a variety of S&M clubs, to unfulfilling sessions with Pro Dommes, to a few ultimately failed encounters that resulted from personals he had placed on the web and in the local alternative media.  He readily admitted that being a ‘mature’ sub, and a real life novice as well despite his extensive blog ruminations over the years, did not make him prime submissive stock for any prospective Domme, and this was proving to be the case.  It was beginning to appear to him that the time for such a life for him had likely passed him by.

Deanna became increasingly sympathetic to his plight, and often commented and even offered advice as Lady D to him on his blog.  As his dejection and rejections became more apparent she took a leap, and using the email address listed on his blog profile she sent him a private post.  He immediately responded in sincere appreciation and they began corresponding frequently.  They began to discuss all manner of topics, many not lifestyle related at all, and she came to enjoy these cyber interactions immensely.  Finally, after a time, she decided to take another leap when after discovering that they actually lived in the same city she proposed that they actually meet.  Heart in his throat he readily accepted, and so one Saturday evening in a small out of the way wine bar, Edward and Deanna met face to face.

They spent the greater part of this first encounter getting to know better the real person from behind the keyboard.  Deanna found Edward to be every bit as authentic and sincere, engaging and intelligent as she had imagined from his blog and emails.  She felt a quickly developing rapport with him, not in any romantic or sexual way, but as someone she could relate and connect with despite his being almost twice her age.  As the night pressed on she chanced one more leap and asked him that if given the opportunity, what small enticement might he offer so that she might ever consider meeting with him again.

For the first time of the evening this charming, seemingly self assured and distinguished older gentleman appeared unsettled and uncertain.  After several long moments of hesitation he lowered his eyes and quietly answered that if she had any errands she needed done, or tasks around or in her home ... shopping, cleaning, straightening up ... anything at all, he would consider it an honor to be allowed to do those for her.  When she then asked what he might anticipate in return he replied that the privilege alone to so assist her in any way would be more than he would deserve.  Another moment of indecision, and then a gamble of his own as he continued on by saying that if she found all of any such efforts to be impeccably performed she might allow him to express his gratitude by granting him the further privilege of kissing her foot before he departed.

Deanna was beguiled by the humility of his offer and the austerity of what he might desire in return.  This was not a suggestion for some elaborate scenario or exotic session as she might have expected, but rather a simple offer to serve.  Perhaps, she concluded, it was time for her to stop just being a cyber voyeur and get back into the real game.  She took her final and longest leap of the day.  Taking a pen out she wrote her address on the paper cocktail napkin in front of her and passed it over to him.  “Be there at nine tomorrow morning,” she ordered, “and expect to work the whole day.” she finished.

Edward took the napkin, raised his eyes, which for the first time in such a very long while were glistening with moisture, and replied,  “I’ll be there ... My Lady.”

She simply nodded in return.

The next morning, precisely at nine, he arrived at her apartment and spent the entire day sweeping, vacuuming, dusting, polishing, washing and putting away dishes ... even doing whatever laundry she needed done, then sorting, ironing and folding it all when it was finished.  His performance in all of these duties was indeed impeccable, and she did grant him the privilege of expressing his gratitude to her foot before he left.  As she commanded upon his departure he returned the next weekend to perform similar services, and for the following few weekends as well.  Soon he was coming several times a week, and it wasn’t long after that, as she became more comfortable with the situation and with him, that Edward became her full time domestic, and Lady D had her first personal slave.      

While she rapidly found his assumption of virtually all of her household chores to be deliciously delightful, she discovered that her frequent and lengthy conversations with him to be even more enjoyable and valuable.  Though she was well on her way to completing her second romantic novel, she had as yet been unable to find a publisher for her first.  As a former Professor of English Literature he humbly offered to read her first work, and then with her further permission to edit it.  When he was done she had to readily admit that he had greatly tightened and strengthened the story without in any way altering her tone, voice or style.

Of even more eventual importance to her in this regard was a person Edward had met on one of his early unsuccessful sojourns to one of the more extreme S&M clubs.  As a completely inexperienced submissive neophyte at the time he had opted to remain solely as an observer that particular evening, trying to remain as unobtrusive as possible in the shadows in the back of the club.  His attention had been increasingly drawn to a forty-ish year old man attempting to ingratiate himself with a trio of younger Dommes who were sitting in an out of the way back corner table.  It was one Domme in particular, who appeared clearly the leader of the three, that he seemed to be trying the hardest to curry favor.

The sub spent much of the night hopping up to fetch the three women multiple drinks, all of which he apparently paid for.  Much of the rest of the time he spent on his knees by the side of the table awaiting any other tasks they might have for him.  Most of this time the three ignored him but at one point the lead Domme looked down at him and said that her friend needed her boots cleaned.  One of the other women then lifted her foot off the ground slightly and agreed that her boots were filthy.  “Get to it” the lead Domme ordered and the sub immediately bent his body down under the table and began licking the ankle high boots clean, while the women all went back to their conversation completely ignoring him again as he worked.

Practically everyone in attendance that night was awaiting the audience participation show that the club put on every Saturday night.  Minutes before it was scheduled to begin a young male Dom sauntered over to the ladies’ table.  The three apparently knew him well and greeted him warmly.  “Why don’t you sit with us for the show.” the lead Domme proposed.  “I’d love to,” he answered, “but I have to take a piss first.”  Glancing over toward the long line for the Men’s Room in the back she lamented that if had to wait on that line he was going to miss the beginning of the show.  She then flashed a wicked grin.  “Why don’t we see if we can put this worthless piece of shit who’s been annoying us all night to some real use.” giving a short but firm kick to the kneeling sub’s backside.

Edward could see the very real panic in the sub’s face as this transpired.  This was clearly more than the sub had bargained for as he realized that he may be in way over his head and didn’t know what to do.

“Come on piss pot, open up for our friend here.” the leader intoned as the man unzippered his pants and pulled out and held his organ in front of him.  Terrified, and apparently seeing no way to easily extricate himself from the situation, the sub slowly brought his head up and reluctantly began to open his mouth, perhaps praying that this was all just a cruel jest at his expense.

“Closer and wider.” her voice lashed out like a whip as her boot once again found his butt.  “And don’t you dare miss a drop.”

Finding no way out of the trap he had set himself in, the sub positioned his face inches from the Dom’s member and opened his mouth wide.  He was immediately met with a steaming stream shooting into his mouth.  Though shocked beyond his ability to comprehend he desperately tried to swallow as rapidly as he could, but within seconds urine was pouring down his chin, soaking his shirt beneath and splattering down onto the floor in front of him as the women all laughed derisively.

Chuckling himself and seeing that the mess was already beyond hopeless the man began shifting his tool about spraying ths sub’s nose and cheeks.  “Catch it all, you clumsy oaf.” the Domme jeered as he haplessly bobbed his head to and fro trying to do so.  This all went on for over thirty seconds, proving that the man had indeed had a full bladder, before the torrent slowed to a trickle and finally to a few drops, which the man dismissively flicked onto the sub’s already drenched face before pulling his penis back inside his pants and zippering them back up.

“Look at the mess you’ve made.” the Domme spoke down at the shaken sub scornfully.  “The management is going to be furious.  Clean it up right now.”

The sub looked up and around frantically for something with which to comply with her decree.

“With your tongue, idiot.  Get down and lap it all up.”

Mortified and trembling, and not knowing how else to proceed, the sub bent down and began to lick up the puddle on the floor in front of him, greeted once again by laughter from those at the table.  Just as he was finishing, trying his best not to retch and add to his woes, the emcee on stage began to announce the beginning of the show.

“God, you stink.” the Domme declared to him.  “We can’t have you around fouling our air like this while we try to watch the show.  Get the hell out of here you stupid dork before we have you thrown out.”

Visibly shaking now and appearing utterly lost the sub staggered to his feet. “Good riddance piss pot.” she sneered at him, and then to her friends, “It’s disgusting how piss poor the quality of serving scum has become in this place.” to which her companions at the table snickered their agreement.

The sub appeared to shrink into himself as if trying to become invisible as he stumbled away from the table and out.  Trying his best not to look at anyone he did glance up, stricken, as he passed by Edward, who saw the absolute look of desolation on the sub’s face, which while already wet was being added to by tears.  As the man lurched his way out of the club Edward instinctively knew that this was a person whose inner core had not only just been battered, but may well have been broken.  Distressed himself by this, Edward rushed out after him, but upon entering the alleyway where the entrance of the club was situated he did not see him moving out toward the main street.  He searched back down the darker further end of the alley and spied the curled form, slumped on the ground, back against the wall.  As Edward made his way to him he saw the man’s sides heaving as he sobbed uncontrollably.  Gaping up in fear as Edward approached he garbled out,

“You ... you saw ... I tried ... I thought I wanted ... I thought I needed ... to be used and humiliated ...” he panted, “but that ... how could I?” He buried his face in his hands. “What am I?” he wailed quietly as he began sobbing again.

“Shhhhhh ...” Edward whispered softly as he slid down beside and put his arm around the distraught man.  “It’s alright ... It just got away from you, is all ... I understand.” and he held him even tighter, for how long neither one of them would ever really recall.  After a time though the man’s crying subsided and his breathing became more regular, and he allowed the older Edward to take him home, and once there to help him clean himself up.

Thus the two failing submissives, Edward and Michael, met and became bonded friends.  They talked well into that night about many things, including personal topics they would never have believed they would have discussed with a ‘stranger’.  As it happened Michael not only knew of but was an avid follower of Edward’s blog, which gave them another connection, and they had maintained contact with each other since that night.

As it also turned out Michael worked as a literary agent, and as a further happenstance his uncle was a major book Publisher.  After receiving her enthusiastic permission Edward reached out to ask Michael as a favor to read Deanna’s first manuscript, and when Michael did and then indicated that he thought very highly of it Edward arranged for a meeting between them.  He was very careful to introduce her as Deanna Douglas the aspiring novelist, keeping her Lady D identity separate and hidden.

With an inside track through both profession and family connections Michael pitched the manuscript to his uncle who also liked it and agreed to publish it.  Within months it was out, and exceeding everyone’s originally modest expectations rapidly became a huge seller.  As her second novel was already completed it was quickly put into print, and just as quickly became a best seller, and in almost a blink of a eye in the literary world Deanna became very well known and acclaimed.

And increasingly well off financially.  With the ongoing hefty sales of her first two books, and the near seven figure advance she received for her third one, she was able to put a very hefty down payment on a small but lovely manor house on a secluded twenty acres about an hour outside of the city.  She moved into this with Edward in tow as her now full time live-in house slave.

As a major architect of her initial success Michael had become more and more involved in managing her professional time, scheduling interviews, book signings and personal appearances for her.  He was even heavily involved in negotiations in the lucrative sale of the movie rights to her first book.  Being an intelligent man it didn’t take him long to suspect and deduce that there was far more to Deanna Douglas than met the public eye, especially as on his frequent business visits to her new home he always found Edward in attendance.

By a mutual unspoken agreement Edward and Michael did not discuss this situation although they both knew of each other’s shared orientation, as did Deanna who was clearly appreciative of all that Michael had, and was continuing to do for her.  On one of his business visits Michael decided to take a major lifetime step and put forth a proposal to Deanna to become her full time literary manager and publicist.  Astutely sensing that this proposal was moving in far more than one direction, and that she was more than interested in seeing where it might all lead, she coyly asked him what compensation he might expect for such a position.  Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath he took the plunge that he had been fantasizing about for quite some time and declared that the honor alone of working for her would be more than enough recompense, but that he would accept whatever she thought fit.  She smiled knowingly and triumphantly and answered that such an honor alone then was indeed what she saw fit.  From that moment on they understood each other completely.  Deanna Douglas now had a full time literary manager and publicist.  And Lady D had her second full time live-in personal slave.

*********

After a leisurely fifteen minute shower, and some further time taking care of her morning needs in her powder room, Lady D finally emerged to find her bed made, her day clothes carefully laid out upon it, and Edward standing expectantly at its end.  She walked over to the bed and he helped to remove her robe, then assisted as she put on her bra and panties, followed by her cotton blouse and a mid length skirt.  As she then sat, he knelt down to take off her slippers and put on her sandals.  When this was done he looked up.

“I believe Abel has your breakfast prepared, My Lady.”

“I think we should see to Thomas first.” she replied.

A nearly imperceptible flicker of relief flashed across his face.

“Of course, My Lady.  Right away.”

Lady D stood up and strode purposefully to and out her bedroom door, with Edward following quickly two steps behind.

       

This is the 3rd part of a 12 part story of a Lady and her stable of slaves

3. Man Maid To Serve.

Deanna made her way down the stairs to the first floor.  The second floor of her small manor house consisted of six rooms, her master bedroom with its large bath and powder room and large walk in closet, an office and computer room where she did her writing and other work, an exercise room and small gym where she regularly worked out, with another adjoining bath and shower, a never yet used guest room, a stand alone bath room, and finally quarters for Edward so he could be close by should his Lady have any personal needs that required him at night.  The other slave quarters consisted of a number of rooms at the back of the house on the first floor, and a loft above the garage.

The larger main floor was comprised of a sitting room, a separate living room, a state of the art multimedia room, a formal dining room where the Lady always took her meals, and a large eat-in kitchen where the meals were prepared, and the slaves were fed, and a number of rooms used as slave quarters in the back near the laundry room.

Deanna walked through to a door leading to the basement.  Not waiting for Edward, still two steps behind, to rush forward to open it for her as she would most other times, she opened it herself and continued down the stairs there to the large well lit room below.  It was not a particularly well stocked dungeon, that not being one of her own specific interests, but it did have several implements and equipment that certainly indicated its use as a lifestyle oriented playroom.  At the bottom of the steps Michael, who had been sitting in a chair several strides further on, jumped up and bowed.

“My Lady.” he greeted.

“Is he well?” she inquired in reply.

“Yes, My Lady.”

Deanna turned her attention to the figure facing her in the middle of the room.  Thomas had been the third slave she had acquired, about a year after Michael, and a year and a half after she had purchased and moved into the manor.  Extremely well muscled and athletically built he was in his early thirties.  The determination to seek a third slave had been born from the fact that while Edward was responsible for all of the household duties, there was a continuous amount of outdoor labor that needed to be kept up.  Given his age and his full slate of other chores, and that Michael was almost always away during the day managing her professional career, she had had to hire a landscaping company to come several times a week to maintain the upkeep of her outside property.  She was never pleased with this arrangement, not least because of the inherent loss of privacy and the possible exposure of her lifestyle, which was especially concerning given her recently acquired celebrity.  After a number of long discussions with Edward about this she directed him to investigate the possibility of recruiting another slave to care for the grounds.

This proved to be much easier that she would have thought.  With her permission, Edward had actively continued his blog.  While meticulously masking all identities and location, he had broadly outlined in it the course that his life in submission, now slavery, had taken.  As might have been anticipated this greatly increased the interest and popularity of his blog.  So when he put out an inquiry about his Lady’s need for a live-in slave groundskeeper he received a brisk response.

Most of these he could sense and see were from fantasy seekers who would have no strong or lasting commitment to the role.  A few however attracted his attention, and with his Lady’s consent he arranged for individual meetings and initial interviews with three of them in another city.  The first one not show up, and he found the second to be clearly unsuitable for a number of reasons.  But the third one, Thomas, appeared very promising.  He had owned his own landscaping company which in the faltering economy had financially failed.  He was getting by at that point by hiring out for a wide variety of handyman jobs.  He had no firm ties to employment, locality, and no nearby relatives.  Even more important, Edward perceived the inner seriousness that Thomas was investing in trying to gain the position.  He was intrigued enough that he recommended to his Lady that she meet with him as well, which she did soon after in a hotel room in the same city, using her own special interview techniques and requirements.  She also was impressed with him, and agreed to take him on a trial basis.  This worked out so well that it wasn’t long before Lady D had a full time landscaper and handyman, and her third personal slave.

Beyond their overarching primary desire to serve and please her, each of the slaves had their own particular specific kink that she not only enjoyed exploring with them, but even more importantly, she exploited as a means to bind them even more closely to her.  With Edward, of course, it was to be her service slave, responsible for all her daily necessities.  For Michael it was his deep need for humiliation, although somewhat paradoxically he needed it to be administered from someone he truly believed cared for him.  For Thomas it simply turned out to be a desire for bondage ... extreme bondage.

Deanna regarded the man facing her from the center of the room.  Except for a leather hood covering his entire head, with openings only for his nose and mouth, Thomas was entirely naked.  His arms were stretched out above him, bound at the wrists with leather restraints and two cables connected from them to a pulley and winch.  He was pulled up so that only the balls of his feet and toes were touching the ground.  Hanging fully in this position his heels could come no closer that an inch above the floor.  Also connected to the ceiling were two steel wires that were tautly attached to his breasts by rubber tipped nipple clamps.  Down below a cord was tightly wrapped around his testicles and tied firmly to a ring on the floor.  When he hung down freely his arms would be stretched to their limit and his breasts and nipples would be pulled painfully upward.  To relieve this stress on his arms and breasts he could push himself up further on his toes, but that would also stretch his bound scrotum further downward.  When his aching calves, toes, and balls could take no more he would ease himself down, once again putting the strain on his arms and tits.

Lady D had personally placed him in this apparatus the prior evening, just before she had retired to her bedroom for her more pleasurable activities.  Thomas had spent his entire night alternating with his own actions the agony above with the agony below.  Concerned with his safety whenever he was so bound, Deanna always insisted that he be constantly attended during those times, and Edward arranged for one of the other three slaves to always be there with him, to release him should he utter his safe word, or if they felt he was ever in any danger or trouble.  Lady D imaginatively constrained him in similar types of confinement roughly twice a month and this night Michael had been assigned the second shift of guardianship.

Deanna watched as he struggled to remain up on his toes, his genitals stretched painfully below.  After less than a minute he sagged down, his arms hung to their limit and his breasts pulled and puckered upward.  Earlier in his ordeal this night Thomas had been able to last four to five minutes in either position, but as the night wore on the intervals became less and less until he could barely last a minute in each.  Lady D was not a sadist.  She did not enjoy inflicting or even observing pain for pain’s sake.  But she was more than willing to explore it, at least to an extent, with those in her world whose psyches required it.  There were limits though beyond which she believed none of them should ever go.

She finally approached him and first removed the clamps from his breasts.  This produced its own sting of torment as blood rushed back into his tortured nipples.  She then relaxed the pulley enough that he could now bear his weight fully on his feet.  After untying the cord around his ball sac she straightened up and unbound his wrists, his arms falling leadenly to his sides as she then unzippered and removed the leather hood from his head.  Thoroughly spent, a sheen of sweat covering his entire body and his hair plastered to his scalp, he almost instantly fell to the ground on all fours before her.

“Thank you, My Lady.” he hoarsely uttered out.

Deanna was never sure in these circumstances whether he was thanking her for releasing him, or for placing him in the bondage in the first place.  Most likely some of both she usually concluded.

“Go and get some sleep Thomas.” she said.  “You are relieved of any outdoor chores today.  But rest well because tonight I will require your service as a chauffeur driving me into the city for an outing.”

“Yes, My Lady.  As you wish, My Lady.”

Without another word Deanna turned and retraced her steps up and out of the basement.  It was time for breakfast.

Upon her entering the dining room Edward rushed around from behind to pull her chair out for her to sit.  Her table setting was already laid out and moments after she was settled another slave, wearing a full length apron, came through from the kitchen carrying a tray of freshly squeezed orange juice, a cup of hot coffee with cream, and a freshly baked bran and raison muffin, toasted and buttered as she liked it.

“Good morning Abel.” she said pleasantly.

He bobbed his head. “Good morning, My Lady.  Your Eggs Benedict will be out in a minute.”

“Excellent.  I look forward to it.”

The most recent addition to her stable, less than a year prior, Abel was the youngest and also the shyest and least self assured of her slaves.  In his mid twenties, he had shoulder length blond hair, now wrapped under a baker’s cap, and a slim physique.  The impetus to acquire him came because after four years, despite his many other attributes and his most sincere efforts, Edward was still at best a mediocre cook, and Michael and Thomas in their few attempts were even worse.  Deanna was also finding that although he never gave her any cause for dissatisfaction, the managing of all of her other in-house chores as well was perhaps becoming too onerous, particularly as she had become more and more desirous of his personal attendance duties.  So about a year after Thomas had been acquired she broached to Edward that he search and recruit another possible member for the manor, to help handle the cooking and house cleaning responsibilities.

As Edward had continued to regularly blog about their experiences living as such in the manor, particularly after the addition of Thomas he had been inundated with personal inquiries and requests from all sorts of submissives begging to be brought into the Lady’s service.  Most of these he could again readily see were from fantasists who would never truly be serious about their pleas.  For these he would politely decline once via email and then further ignore.

There were a few however with whom he maintained a degree of private correspondence, as he sensed in them a serious searching to find and better define their own orientations.  One now in particular came to mind given his Lady’s ‘request’.  It was a young man who had recently graduated from a prestigious culinary institute and was currently pursuing advancement in his career working as a su-chef in a well regarded restaurant.  But the young man was also having a great deal of difficulty in his private life coming to terms with his strongly submissive nature, most especially in expressing his own specific manifestation of it.  Edward had had a number of private post conversations with him about this, and truly wanted to help the young man sort through his issues.  But for these very reasons he was extremely unsure whether having him potentially enter his Lady’s service would be a good situation for any of them.  When he brought these concerns to her, she suggested that he be brought in for an ‘interview’ after which SHE would better judge his suitability.

So despite his qualms Edward had no choice but to contact the young man, Abel, and arrange for him to come to the manor for this evaluation.  He had made it clear to him what all this would entail, and what was to be expected, and with an obvious degree of anxious anticipation and nervous desire Abel pleaded to be afforded this opportunity.

Thus one early Saturday morning soon after, Edward and Thomas drove two hours to the city where Abel resided to bring him back for his trial run.  As per Lady D’s instructions Abel was to be blindfolded for the trip back.  This was not only so he would have no knowledge of where he had been should he prove unsatisfactory, but she also felt that it was important, even at the very beginning, that he understand and realize that he had no rights, even of sight, without her leave.

Once the journey began Abel was also forbidden to speak.  Edward still had significant reservations about how the young man would handle everything, especially if he was chosen by the Lady, particularly in light of his self acknowledged struggles dealing with the most intimate aspects of his orientation.  Even so, Edward was impressed with the courage he had demonstrated so far, despite his clear tension and uncertainty.  Being blindfolded and struck dumb, and being taken by strangers to an unknown location where his innermost and to this point unsettled self would be fully exposed, had to be terrifying.  Yet he was allowing himself to suffer all of this for the merest chance to have his underlying, and to date hidden nature possibly be brought to light and life.  Edward truly hoped and really did believe that his Lady, however she decided, would be kind.

Arriving back at the manor in the early afternoon Abel, blindfold off and permission to speak again given, was taken immediately to the kitchen where the first part of his ‘audition’ was to take place.  He was to prepare dinner for the Lady.  As this was to be one of his major ongoing duties, if it proved unacceptable there would be no need to proceed further.

He had been apprised beforehand that this would be the first step in his evaluation and that it would be left to him to decide what to prepare, and to bring with him all the appropriate provisions to do so.  He had packed two full coolers of foodstuffs and other dinner needs to be brought with him and he now set about preparing his fateful repast.  He planned to offer up a roasted duck garnished with a cherry and brandy glaze.  Using the duck’s liver, along with several others he had purchased separately, he made a duck liver pate to be served as a appetizer, to be followed by a wild mushroom and truffle soup.  This was to be accompanied by a baby Romaine and endive salad with chopped walnuts, cranberries and crumbled blue cheese.  The duck would then be presented with a julienne of fresh vegetables.  And for dessert he had created a fresh chocolate raspberry mousse.  With each course he had purchased and brought a specifically selected wine, including a special one with dessert.  All of this had cost him almost a week’s wages, but in his heart, when placed against what he hoped to gain, he considered it as even less than a pittance.

Despite his toil throughout the afternoon, when the time for dinner came he was not allowed to present it personally to the Lady.  Edward performed this task, taking each course in and serving it to her when she was ready.  Abel paced back and forth in the kitchen, on pins and needles the entire time, having never yet set eyes upon the Lady, wondering frantically how she was judging his efforts.  Finally, after coffee and a cordial followed the dessert, Edward re-entered the kitchen and informed him that the Lady had been pleased, and that he should now prepare for his ‘formal interview’.

Having previously been advised by Edward about how this would proceed Abel was led to the sitting room where he was instructed to remove all of his clothing and then to kneel naked in the center of the room in front of the overstuffed leather sofa, forehead to the floor with his arms stretched out in front of him, palms up.  In this position he waited for close to thirty minutes before he heard soft steps enter the room, pause for a few brief moments beside him, as if he was being inspected, before a few more steps then someone settling into the sofa.  A good minute more of silence before ...

“You may kneel up, Abel.” the Lady spoke.

Abel raised his head and upper body up and gazed, mesmerized, for the first time at the Lady.

She smiled.

“That was a delicious dinner you made for me, Abel.”

“Thank you ... My Lady.” he stammered out.

“That is a talent we may have to cultivate.”

His heart pounded.  “Anything you wish, My Lady”

Her smile grew more pointed, and her eyes narrowed slightly.

“What is it that YOU wish for here, Abel?”

He took a second to try to best formulate his answer.

“I want to cook and clean for you, My Lady.” he offered hopefully.

“Those would indeed be your primary duties.” she concurred.  “But what is it that you would dream of while doing them for me.”

This was the crux.  Edward had made her intimately aware of the struggles and difficulties that Abel was having in coming to terms with expressing his inner being.  But she absolutely had to have him begin the process of baring his soul as naked to her as his body was now, or he truly wouldn’t be worth possessing.

Face blushing, and breathing hard, Abel fought to overcome his shame, and the derisive rejection he was sure to come.  But she had asked and he knew he had to answer or whatever very slim hopes that he had would all be for naught.

“I would like nothing more, My Lady,” he panted out hoarsely. “than to serve you however you wish ... as a man ...”  his voice lowered even more,

“ ... and as a woman.”

He hung his head awaiting her scorn.

“What an interesting proposition.” she responded after several moments.  “You seem to be offering me two for the ‘price’ of one.  Is that what you would like me to take?”

He took a deeper breath, both terror and thrill coursing through his body.

“Please ... do” he whispered out.

“Than I shall.” she answered brightly.  “This is the one choice you will be allowed.  When you cook for me, and the household, it will be as Abel.  For all your other domestic duties it will be as a woman ... Anabelle ... I think we’ll make that Belle for short.”  She paused expectantly.  “And make no mistake, you WILL be female during those times and treated by all as such, not just dressed like one.”  Her eyes bored into him.  “Is this your desire?”

His entire body was flushed with the emotions roiling through him, but Deanna couldn’t help but note that the part of him that marked him first and foremost as a male, up to this point flaccid with fear, was now rising firmly up in response.  He swallowed hard.

“Yes, My Lady.” he declared in no uncertain terms.

“Very well then, I accept.  Edward,” who had been standing silently in the back of the room throughout, “will take you out and get you settled and help you with whatever arrangements you need to make to terminate your outside affairs and move in here to begin your new life.  All instructions and any questions you may have will be addressed through him.”

She scrutinized him closely one last time before dismissal as he appeared to grapple mightily with the enormity of what all had just transpired.

“You may go.” she finally said satisfied and delighted that, as Edward  gathered him up to take him away, she had just procured a fourth member for her stable.

********

And Lady D did enjoy and use both aspects of her new slave.  Abel had proved to be as exceptional a chef as his initial meal had suggested.  And Belle, though tentative, awkward, and very self conscious at first, grew more comfortable and confident as time went on.  This was likely due in no small part to the fact that everyone in the manor regarded and interacted with her solely as who and what she was, a scullery maid.  Deanna had brought her along slowly, demanding at first only that she be Belle in every  way, before eventually beginning to stretch her boundaries.  This night would be a major step in that direction.

It was to remind Belle of this that she sought her out later that afternoon.  It was not that Belle needed reminding.  She had been fearfully ruminating about it almost constantly since her Lady had first mentioned her plans earlier in the week, and Deanna knew and relished this and  enjoyed observing her maid’s inner turmoil.  She found her dusting and polishing the furniture in the living room.

“You’ll need to finish up your chores earlier today Belle, so you can get ready.” she said as she came up unnoticed behind her.  “I want to leave no later than six.”

Belle spun around upon hearing her Lady’s voice and quickly curtsied.  She was smartly dressed in her French maid’s uniform, blue blouse with a white smock, blue skirt reaching just below her knees, her shapely legs evident down to her comfortable working flats.  And atop her head, a white bonnet.

“I will be ready, My Lady.”

“I know you will.” the Lady smiled knowingly.  “Dress casually.  The place we’re going to tonight is nice but not formal.” she further instructed.

“As you say, My Lady.”

“Yes.  As I say.”  Deanna’s smile grew even broader.  “I’m really looking forward to this, Belle.  It’s going to be a lot of fun.  A real Girls’ Night Out.”

Belle could only nod with the thumping of her heart.

            

This is the 4th part of a 12 part tale of a Lady and her stable of slaves

4. Girls Night Out

Belle fretted terribly about what she should wear that evening.  Her Lady had said to dress casual, but this would be the first time she would ever be going out ‘socially’ so she had to look perfect.  That also caused her some concern however.  The last thing in the world she wanted to do this night was to call attention to herself.  She was sure that everyone would know.  True, everyone in the manor knew, but they all accepted her unconditionally for what she was.  She didn’t think that most others would be so forgiving. 

While Abel did all of the food and cleaning supply shopping for the manor, Belle had only been out in ‘public’ one time before, and that had been several weeks earlier.  At the very beginning Edward had supplied her with a few different maid uniforms, and some functional ladies undergarments.  When it became evident shortly after that she would need more than this, he gave her several catalogues to have her choose whatever other apparel she felt that she needed, which he would then order online.  He made it clear to her that being the property of the Lady, the Lady would be providing for it all.  Afraid to incur any significant cost for the Lady, Belle had not ordered much, and only the most inexpensive articles she could find.  When the Lady eventually found this out, to Belle’s horror she insisted on taking her out on a shopping spree.

With Thomas as their driver, Lady D directed them first to a high end Lingerie store.  There, after much consideration and ‘consultation’ with the petrified Belle, she selected for her a number of daring, even racy items, from frilly nightgowns, to lacy bras and panties, and even a garter belt and fishnet stockings.  She then gave her enough money to pay for it all and had her take them all to the check out to personally purchase.  The young salesgirl there, appearing no older than Belle, smiled and clucked approvingly as she went through and accounted each selection as Belle stood in front of her, dying a thousand deaths.

Even more stomach clenching for her was the next place that the Lady took them.  It was the most popular ladies clothing store in the area.  Here, not only did the Lady choose a wide variety of dresses, blouses and skirts for her, but Belle was required to try them all on.  Each time she went into the dressing room she obsessed about the stories she had heard that these areas were constantly monitored by security cameras to protect against theft, and that after such observation of her she would be apprehended when she came out for her much greater crime.  When this never occurred she was only slightly less frazzled as she was then forced to ‘model’ each new article of clothing under the discerning scrutiny and analysis of the saleslady and her Lady.

As harrowing as those experiences had been however, at least she now had a brand new and fairly extensive wardrobe from which to choose this evening’s wear.  Yet she still went about selecting with severe trepidation.  Abel was decidedly masculine and hetero.  Though strongly submissive in nature he certainly had intense urges and was always sexually stimulated whenever he was utilized by any female in his natural form.  But for as long as he could remember he also had occasional fervid cravings to experience being a female, especially if forced into that role by another female for her amusement and pleasure.  It wasn’t that Abel thought he was a woman trapped in a man’s body.  He had never entertained any thoughts or desire for any transgender procedure to actually become a woman.  He was happy being a man.  It was just that at times he had the overwhelming obsession to be, and be used as a woman.  But only by another woman.

He had lived his life so far believing that he was some kind of pervert, and had only dabbled at the edges of his fantasies in strict solitude.  But dressing up in women’s attire alone in the privacy of his own room did little to satisfy his real hunger, even as it still fueled his constant fear of discovery and continued self disgust.  His cyber conversations with Edward had begun to help him see that he wasn’t sick or twisted, but that he just had desires different from the norm, desires that would never hurt anyone even as they seemed to him impossible to attain.  He continued to believe though that many if not most people, if they knew, would still regard with disdain.

But the Lady had changed all of that.  Abel had little doubt that Edward had hinted to her beforehand about his predilections, but from the first she had gazed into his heart and saw that there were two.  And she demanded from the very outset to have and use both.  Abel would always continue to be, but she had helped to create Belle, and continued to fashion her into what she wanted her to become.  Abel and Belle weren’t split personalities.  They knew, understood, and were always aware of each other.  But they were separate, and the Lady insisted that they remain so at all times, so as to better for her to enjoy their individual pleasures.  This had not only allowed Belle to grow, but had given Abel the time and chance to begin to accept.  And even to come to approve.

Still, the two were not equal.  Abel could and did exist and survive in the outside world, while Belle was convinced that she could not, and wouldn’t want to.  But the Lady apparently had other ideas, and Belle had no choice but to submit to the Lady’s will.  She would be and do whatever the Lady, her creator and owner,  desired, whatever the cost.

She finally selected her ensemble for the evening.  A rose colored satin blouse with a slight ruffle in front, accompanied by a burgundy colored skirt that went down below her knees to just cover the dark suede, calf high boots with two inch heels that were among the number of different footwear that the Lady had purchased for her at the shoe store that had been the last stop on their shopping adventure.  Underneath she made sure to wear the lacy black panties, and a sheer, almost see through black bra, hoping that maybe, when this night ended ...

  She then spent over a half hour combing and brushing out her shoulder length blonde hair so that as perfectly as possible it framed her face, to which she meticulously applied makeup as subtly as she could.  The final touch was a lovely red embroidered pashima which she hung delicately over her shoulders.

Convinced that she would never pass muster or her Lady’s approval, but knowing that it would be unforgivable to be late, Belle then forced herself out to the front of the manor where Thomas was waiting by the side of the car.  He greeted her with a low admiring whistle as she approached.  She dipped her head in embarrassment, but she really did appreciate it.  She knew that he was in no way mocking.  Thomas, indeed all of the slaves, had been fully supportive of her, and of each other, every step of the way, which helped to make their toil and the many ordeals encountered in their service to the Lady so much more bearable and fulfilling.

A half an hour later, at twenty after six, Deanna stepped out of the front door of the manor which Edward had opened for her.  She was dressed in a gray shirt with matching gray pants and wearing black flats.  Her normally flowing hair was pulled backward from the front and then bound up in a bun in the back, and it didn’t appear that she was wearing any makeup at all.  Both Abel and Belle had always thought of their Lady’s appearance as stunning, but this night, though elegant, it was far more austere, even severe.  It was almost as if, Belle thought nervously, she wanted someone else to stand out this night.

Thomas bowed his head down and up as Belle curtsied and they both simultaneously greeted her with “My Lady.”  Deanna nodded to Thomas, and then turned her attention to Belle.  “You look QUITE fetching, Belle.” she said smiling.  “I strongly suspect you’re going to turn a lot of heads tonight.”

Belle’s face became beet red and remained so as Thomas opened the back door of the car for the Lady and then Belle to enter.  Once they were settled in and Thomas had assumed his place in the driver’s seat, Deanna turned and again smiled toward Belle.  “This is supposed to be a fun girls’ outing for us tonight Belle, so I don’t think it fits for you to be referring to my as your ‘Lady’.  For this evening just call me EL ... for Lady”

“Yes My Lady.” Belle answered, then shrank back as, though still smiling, the Lady’s eyes narrowed.  “I mean, EL.” she hurried to correct.

Deanna’s eyes softened, “Good.”  She then turned to Thomas and leaned forward to hand him a slip of paper.

“This is the name and address where we’re going tonight Thomas.  Put it in the GPS and let’s get moving.”

“Yes, My Lady.” he responded as he hastened to comply.

The place, still unrevealed to Belle, that Deanna had selected for their evening out was a dinner club and bar that catered exclusively to those of the lesbian persuasion.  Though open to the public, its advertisements on the web strongly discouraged the attendance of men, even gay men.  All women were welcome, but it was meant primarily to be a place where followers of Lesbos, either as singles, in pairs, or in groups, could gather socially, comfortably and enjoyably with those of their own orientation.  While neither the Lady nor Belle were of that type, Belle being even dramatically less so, Deanna had two reasons for choosing this establishment.  The first was that she wanted to have some direct observation and experience of such a place for a scene she was planning to include in her latest novel.  More important though was that while she had no real desire for their true natures to be exposed, she did want to savor the thrill in herself, and the apprehension in Belle, of the ongoing danger of potential discovery as the night progressed.

The club was located in one of the larger suburban towns just outside of the main city.  It was about a forty minute drive from the manor, and during the trip there Deanna chatted amiably throughout on all manner of topics, to which it didn’t appear to concern her that Belle’s responses were persistently quiet and short.  Belle very much prayed that this remained the pattern for the evening..  Though she had tried her very best to look the part, she knew that her voice was much lower than would be expected, and which she would try to mask by speaking very softly if forced to say anything to anyone else.  Far better, she concluded hopefully, for her to just be seen and not heard.

Once the GPS got them successfully to their destination, Thomas parked in front and jumped out to open the car door for his Lady.  Belle slid out after.  Deanna handed him a fifty dollar bill.

“Go get something to eat Thomas, and then come back right away and wait for us in the car.”

“Yes, My Lady.  Thank you, My Lady.” he replied.  Deanna then twined her arm with Belle’s and walked her into the club.

It didn’t take long for Belle to notice that everyone inside was female.  The club was crowded, particularly around the long bar in the front.  After a few moments a hostess arrived and asked them their pleasure and Deanna indicated that they would like a table for two for dinner, near the small stage in back if possible.  The hostess checked, noted that a table was available, and then led them past the bar back to it.

As she walked to the table Belle felt that every eye in the club was on her, and as a first time very attractive new patron, many actually were.  Once they were seated and they began scanning the menus given them, she somewhat furtively spied the surroundings.  There were women of all ages, many in pairs at the smaller tables enjoying a quiet dinner, although there were also a number of larger tables with larger groups.  There was also a fair collection of singles, most of them clustered around the bar, doing what singles do in such a setting in any type of club.  Heart in her stomach, Belle now fully understood though just what type of club THIS was, and how she was not only one, but a double imposter.

A young waitress come to the table to take their order.  Her smiling attention lingered on Belle for several long moments before she turned to Deanna, order pad in hand.

“Why don’t you order for us, Belle.” Deanna spoke.  “I know you know what I like.”

Belle’s head jolted as if struck, before the waitress shifted her attention back her friendly smile widening even more.  Belle pointed her face down toward the menu desperately trying to decide how to safely proceed.

“Miss?”  The waitress politely inquired after a minute.

Her face still directed toward the menu Belle struggled forth.  “Um ... We’ll both have the, um, French onion soup,” she began, and couldn’t help but glance up to see the waitress’ smile become quizzical.  She started to panic.

“You have to speak louder, Belle.  She can’t hear you.” Deanna informed.

Belle swallowed hard and then rushed to have this over with as rapidly as possible.  “Ah ... two onion soups and ah ... we’ll ah ... both have the salmon special.”

“What salad dressings would you both like with your salads?”

In her current state Belle hadn’t even considered this.  “I don’t ... ah ... what kind do you ... ah ... I’ll have the House and the La ... I mean EL ... ah, will have ... um ... the vinaigrette.”  Her insides were churning.  She knew she was making a complete mess of this.  The waitress had to know.

“What would you both like to drink?” the waitress continued.

Belle was now at a total loss.  She sat there paralyzed, her mind a blank.

“I think we’ll both have a glass of Chardonnay.” Deanna came to the rescue after the prolonged pause.  If Belle could have crawled down to kiss her Lady’s feet in profound thanks at that moment, she would have.

“Very good.” the waitress proclaimed, casting one more smiling glance at Belle as she moved away.  Although still somewhat shaken, Belle couldn’t help but be inwardly ecstatic that the waitress had seemed taken with her.

The various courses of dinner went by in a blur for Belle.  Deanna kept up a steady stream of small talk to which Belle tried to respond, in as soft a voice as possible, to at least try to keep up some part of her end of the conversation.  As the evening wore on they had attracted a fair amount of notice.  Dressed as she was Deanna clearly appeared older than her actual years, more so in ready comparison to her much younger companion.  Some of the other patrons, mostly from other pairs sitting at nearby tables, wondered if she was a Cougar on the prowl.  Others speculated to themselves that the younger very pretty one might even be a trophy mate.  A number more, mostly singles on the lookout, secretly hoped that Belle was on a one night stand, and might return unaccompanied sometime in the future.

Saturday was Karioke night at the club, which Deanna had noted on the website.  At nine o’clock a club manager took to the stage where the Karioke machine and monitor was located and announced that the opportunity to perform was now open.  This obviously was a very popular club event, as immediately a large number of participants rushed up to get on line, and the entertainment began.

The sweep of selections that followed was quite wide, ranging, among many others, from Cher to Madonna up to Lady GaGa.  One singer even did a very creditable rendition of a torch song by Billie Holliday.  The performances ran the gamut from excellent to enjoyable to funny, to a few that just dissolved into embarrassed giggles.  A group of three did their own well choreographed and hilarious version of ‘Boogie Woogie Bugle Girl From Company B’, and another threesome brought the house down with an apparently expected and greatly anticipated version of Aretha Franklin’s ‘RESPECT’.

As the cheering and stomping finally subsided after that performance, the line of volunteers began to thin.  Deanna turned to Belle.

“Go up and sing a song for me, Belle.” she said pleasantly.

Belle gasped.  Her worst nightmare.  How could the Lady even think? 

“My Lady ... Please ...” she pleaded.

“Belle.” Deanna responded sharply.

There could be no mistaking the command in the Lady’s voice.  Trembling both inside and out, Belle stood up woodenly and numbly made her way over to the end of the now much shorter line.

Belle’s brain was in a whirl.  How could she do this?  She was sure that everyone would Hear, and then they would See.  As she was only two performers away she just couldn’t find any way to escape.

But the Lady ... her Lady ... had ordered her to sing ... to sing a song ... for Her.  And a song did come to mind.  A song she loved, and sang to herself often when doing her chores.  A song whose lyrics she had changed in her mind to reflect her new life.  A song whose female artist also had a low, throaty voice, so maybe, just maybe, there was a chance.

Clinging to this desperate hope as her turn came up she approached the monitor and microphone and told the female emcee her choice.

“Tina Turner’s ‘Private Dancer’.”

The emcee nodded and cued it up.  The lights dimmed and the music began to play ... ominously.  The words began to form on the monitor, but Belle didn’t need to look.  She knew her own markedly different  words and meaning by heart, and drawing a deep breath she took her plunge.

Well we all came from dark places

And none of us were the same

You didn’t look at our faces

You didn’t ask for our names

But you knew we were human

That we had a role to play

You keep your mind on our purpose

Filling our lives every day

Then the chorus.

I’m your Private Dancer

A Dancer for nothing

I do what you want me to do

I’m your Private Dancer

A Dancer for all things

I’ll always be there for you

          

I don’t need a million dollars

Just the chance to continue to be

Someone who has a reason

To be part of your family

We all came from dark places

And none of us were the same

You keep your mind on our purpose

Filling our lives every day

We’re your Private Dancers

Dancers for nothing

We’ll do what you want us to do

Your Private Dancers

Dancers for all things

We’ll always be there for you

All inhibitions gone she now finished with one last full throated chorus, her attention riveted on the table where her Lady sat.

I’m your Private Dancer

A Dancer for nothing

I’ll do what you want me to do

A Private Dancer

Dancer for all things

I’ll always be there for you

The music ended.  A few brief moments of silence, and then genuine applause.  Anyone in the club who had previously harbored any before now knew absolutely without any doubts, to whom Belle belonged.

She made her way back to the table.  Deanna nodded, a very small smile on her lips, but her eyes distant.  They sat through the next singer’s song and then the Lady indicated it was time to go.  She paid the bill, stood up, and, with Belle following closely behind, left the club.

Waiting vigilantly for them all these hours in the car, Thomas rushed out as they returned.  He opened the back door for Deanna who got in without any acknowledgment, with Belle then going in from the other side.  When Thomas returned to the driver’s seat Deanna simply said “Home.”

They rode the entire way in silence, Deanna gazing vacantly out the side window.  Belle, who had initially been exhilarated that she had done all of her Lady’s bidding and had not been exposed, now feared that she had somehow failed her.  The entire night, from beginning to now had had many moments of sheer terror for her, but many of extreme excitement as well.  She had been seen, heard ... and accepted as Belle, before the most difficult of possible audiences.

Before the evening had begun she had even had secret hopes that if somehow she did successfully survive, at the end of the night her Lady might invite her up to her bedroom to provide more intimate service, for the very first time ever as Belle.  All prior summons for such activities had been for Abel, who had always performed enthusiastically.  But Belle yearned to be used so as herself, and though she knew she had no right to expect, she couldn’t help but pray that this night might be such a night.

As they arrived back at the manor, and Deanna departed through the opened car door, she was greeted at the opened front door by the waiting Edward.  She walked into the foyer, and then turned to face the trailing Belle.

“I had a delightful time tonight, Belle.  And I really did enjoy your song.  But I find myself very tired now, so I want to retire.”  She turned back to Edward. “There’s no need to attend me tonight, Edward.  I can take care of myself.  I think I’ll sleep a little later tomorrow morning.  Nine o’clock.”

“As you wish, My Lady.”

With that, Deanna nodded to them both and went up the stairs, leaving Edward perplexed, and Belle’s dream deflated.

As she finally slipped into her bed, Deanna reflected once again on the evening’s events.  She had indeed been proud of Belle, and she knew that Belle ... and all of her slaves, were totally devoted to her ... as slaves to their Mistress.  It couldn’t ... and shouldn’t ... be anything more than that.  But as she drifted off to an unsettled sleep she continued to wonder, as she had for the entire trip home ...

Could there ever be a true Private Dancer?

  

This is the 5th part of a 12 part tale of a Lady and her stable of slaves

5. Writer’s Block

Over the next month Deanna seemed noticeably more distracted and detached.  She had not bound Thomas once in that time, nor had she taken any opportunity to chastize Michael for any inadequacies, real or manufactured.  There were no special dinner demands for Abel or extra chores for Belle.  She had not even indulged in any of her usually much relished body massages, manicures or pedicures performed by Edward.  And most distressing to them all, none had been summoned for any more intimate services.

She recognized her increasing irritability, and though she tried to remain civil most of the time she found herself being curt and even cutting more and more often.  She didn’t feel particularly guilty about these occasional outbursts.  Slaves had to accept any mood of their owner.  It was just that she didn’t like being that type of person.

She blamed most of her current malaise on the difficulties she was having writing her most recent novel.  She was substantially behind schedule with it and had changed its direction and tone a number of times, and was now bogged down trying to decide how to further proceed.  Her first three books had been huge successes.  Although they had all followed the tried and true romantic novel formula of lovers having to suffer through all manner of trials and tribulations before finally being happily united in the end, her eclectic and jaunty style, and incisive and sharp edged characterizations all gave a very fresh patina to this old coda, and large numbers of readers of the genre obviously appreciated and flocked to them.  There were still traditional expectations to be met however, and when in her most recently published book she had her main male protagonist die at the end in very unseemly circumstances, despite several literary critics applauding her departure from the norm, many of her fans were dismayed and the novel was not selling anywhere near as well as her previous ones.

Her latest venture was veering even more radically away from the standard.  It might be acceptable and even somewhat endearing to have one half of a romantic relationship be a lovable rogue.  It was quite something else for him to be of clearly questionable character.  Though she certainly didn’t want or tolerate Edward or Michael to be toadies when analyzing and helping with her professional work, when they pointed out these problems after reading the early outlines and drafts, she found herself making the character even more despicable.  Even she began to realize that she was going beyond being provocative and her character was becoming unpalatable, and the story just wasn’t working.  Yet try as she did, she just couldn’t seem to make him any more sympathetic or less unsavory.  Short of starting all over with a completely different project, which she most definitely did not want to do, this was the character she wanted to develop and explore, along with the doomed heroine who loved him.  She just had to find a way to make this story soar.

This was proving much harder than she could have ever imagined.  She was spending far too many work days of late staring at a blank computer screen, or deleting the small amount of words she was actually producing.  Her frustration was growing, and with it her impatience and temper.  One morning, after eating hardly any breakfast, unusual for her, she went to her office to work and after an hour not one new idea or word came to mind.  She wanted to scream.  Something had to change.  She needed a break, something to take the edge off her anger.  She buzzed Edward on the intercom to come.

“I’m taking the rest of the day off, Edward.” she said to him when he entered.  “I’m going to work out first and then I want a full spa treatment.”

“Very good, My Lady” he replied, a smile brightening his face as he was becoming very concerned about her.

Deanna went back into her bedroom and changed into her work out clothes; shorts, a tee shirt, socks and running shoes.  She pulled her hair back  into a pony tail with a scrungie and then marched into her small gym.  She started out with a number of stretching exercises and followed that up over the next half hour using a variety of different free weights for her arms and legs, with Edward spotting for her when necessary.  She finished up with a vigorous 45 minute run on the treadmill, tracking over six miles in that time and working up quite a sweat, while expending at least a fair portion of the nervous tension that had been building up.

Edward had been standing in the back of the room for most of her run in case he was needed.  Near its end though he went into her master bathroom to make sure that her Jacuzzi bathtub was filled and ready.  When she finished she joined him in the bedroom.  As she sat on the side of her bed he hurried over to go down on his knees to first take off her shoes, and then her sweaty socks.  He immediately began to massage her moist and tired feet.

“I hope you had a good work out, My Lady.” he said as he kneaded.

“Yes, I needed that.” she replied.  “A few more minutes of this, and then I want to get into the whirlpool.”

“It’s ready and waiting for you, My Lady.”

“Good.”

After five more minutes of Edward’s soothing ministrations, Deanna stood up.  He helped her out of her shorts and panties, and then her tee shirt and sports bra.  She removed the scrungie by herself, letting her hair fall below her shoulders, and then made her way fully naked into her bathroom with Edward right behind.  He slipped past her to turn on the Jacuzzi, and then helped her to step in.  She settled sown with a sigh as the hot jetted waters swirled around her.

‘A cold drink, Edward.” she bid after several minutes.

“Right away, My Lady.”  He stepped to the intercom, called and instructed Belle to bring up a large glass of lemonade.  He met her at the bedroom door when it was brought up minutes later, taking it from her to bring into the Lady.  Deanna drank half immediately, and then sipped down the rest over the next ten minutes as she continued to relax in the bubbling water.  When finished she ordered Edward to turn off the whirlpool.

“Wash me.” was her next decree after it was  off.  Edward took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.  From the cabinet nearby he took out her scented bath gel and a loofa.  He knelt down by the side of the tub as she lifted one of her legs out of the water.  With his hands he applied the gel up and down her leg, dipping them into the water to get to every part.  He then gently scrubbed with the loofa, starting with her foot and going down her entire leg to her hip.  When that was complete she lowered her leg back into the water and raised the other one out.  He repeated the entire process with that foot and leg, but this time when he reached her groin he rubbed the loofa between her legs to cleanse that area as well, eliciting another sigh and a smile from her as he did so.

Pouring a more generous amount of gel onto the loofa he then softly scrubbed his way up her belly with it, then to and around each breast.  After he finished with the front of her neck and shoulders she leaned forward so he could continue on with her back.  Once this was done he handed her a small wash cloth with some facial soap so that she could cleanse her own face.

With her permission he used a connected spray nozzle to rinse her off thoroughly, and then with her head held back he dampened her hair.  Setting that aside he applied a large amount of conditioner to her hair and rubbed it in vigorously.  After rinsing that out he did the same with her shampoo, rinsing even longer after that to make sure all of the shampoo was removed he then helped her up and out of the tub, holding an overlarge bath towel for her while handing her a smaller one.

As she used this latter one to dry her face and hair he, starting at her shoulders, began to pat her dry, working his way quickly but thoroughly down her torso, to her pelvis and buttocks and between her legs, and then down each leg to both of her feet which he then helped her place into bath slippers.  Standing up again he reached for her robe which he assisted her to don.

Deanna made her way back into the bedroom to sit in front of her vanity table.  Edward retrieved a hair blower and began to blow dry her hair.  Once fully dry he spent the next twenty minutes combing and brushing it out as she watched with pleasure in the mirror his diligent efforts behind her.  When she finally deemed these efforts sufficient and satisfactory she directed him to get her manicure and pedicure kit.

As he returned with it from the closet he found her settled into her recliner next to the vanity.  He knelt down on one side of it, taking out the necessary equipment and laying it out on the table.  She offered her first hand to him.

While this had become one of his regular responsibilities she had not had him do so in some time, so her nails were not as pristine as she usually demanded.  Using acetone on cotton pads he carefully removed all of the old polish.  He cut away any cuticles he discovered and followed that by filing each of her nails.  He then applied the new polish she had selected, a crimson red, and as he completed that hand and she laid it on the armrest to dry, he scurried around to the other side of the chair to perform the same service to her other hand.

Throughout these efforts Deanna carried on a chatty conversation with him, it proceeding comfortably almost as if between equals.  She inquired about events in the household to which she had of late not been paying as much attention as she should.  She sought Edward’s opinion about how each of her other slaves were doing in the performance of their duties, and then how he thought the manor was functioning overall.  As he knew that she expected and demanded, he was very forthcoming and honest in his answers and assessments, being truthfully complimentary about the other slaves and their conduct, but she sensed a bit of reticence in him about her last question.  She also had a certain reluctance at that moment to delve too deeply into that issue herself however, so as he finished with her second hand she reached over to put on earphones to her IPOD, leaned back in the recliner which brought her legs up as well, and as he repositioned himself on his knees at the end she turned on some soft music to listen to and further unwind, as Edward proceeded to attend to her toes.

If anything he was even more diligent with her pedicure.  After removing all of the worn polish he carefully clipped and filed each toenail.  Then after placing cotton balls between each toe he meticulously painted each nail making certain that no polish strayed onto her surrounding skin.  Once all ten toes were refinished and resplendent, and knowing that she found it enjoyable, he began to softly blow on them to help them dry.  He was rewarded as she languidly flexed and extended her toes as he did so.

Even after they had fully dried Deanna continued to lay back listening to her music as Edward waited patiently on his knees at her feet.  Eventually she sighed and stretched, sitting up in the recliner, then arose and walked to her bed.  She had Edward remove her robe and once off she lay down prone and naked on the bed.

“A massage, Edward.” she murmured, unnecessarily as he already knew what her next pleasure would be.

He had studied a variety of different massage techniques on the web and had become quite adept in a number of them.  It had become one of  his most desirable, and desired, services to his Lady.  Picking up a bottle of lavender scented body lotion he decanted a liberal amount into his hands, rubbed them together to warm it, and then began the process by kneading it firmly into the back of her neck and shoulders.   His fingers, then knuckles, then base of his palms probed slowly and deeply in circles along her upper back, pausing only at times for more lotion.  They worked their way down to the small of her back and her sides, his thumbs and even elbows digging in as her muscles throughout unclenched and untensed.  He found his way to her buttocks on which he payed extensive attention before moving down the backs of her thighs, spending time in the hollows of her knees before firmly massaging both of her calves.  He finally arrived at the bottoms of her feet after she had raised her lower legs up at an angle from her knees so that he could work out any remaining tightness from her arches, balls and toes.  When she finally, contentedly, lowered her feet back down he sprinkled a bit more lotion onto his hands and returned for some finishing touches and strokings to her upper back, neck, and shoulders.  He only stopped when she raised her hand for him to do so, and he then stood up and away as she slowly rolled to her side, and eventually sat up to regard him.

For the first time in weeks she felt absolutely wonderful.  But there was still just that little bit of tension within that cried to be worked out.  And she knew just how to do it, which she also knew would serve some of Edward’s needs as well.

“Pull down your pants, Edward” she purred.

With perhaps just a bit of seeming reluctance he slowly complied, and when both his pants and underpants were down around his ankles his manhood was revealed, encased as always in a plastic chastity cage.  Early on in his service Edward had shamefully confessed to his Lady that he was unable to cease playing with himself when alone, and had even had a number of unauthorized emissions.  After being suitably punished for those, for his better control the Lady had then demanded that he purchase and wear the chastity devise at all times.  It only came off once a week under her close supervision so that it and he could  be cleaned, and for some other occasions, which came more frequently for Edward that any of the others, when he was allowed permitted release and relief.  Deanna kept the key in the drawer in her bed stand and Edward knew it was there, but she knew that he would never seek to use it by himself except for the most dire of emergencies.  He was the only one of her slaves who had need of, and wore such a device.

“That was as delightful as always, Edward.” she continued on to him smiling, as he stood there somewhat comically so exposed.

“Thank you, My Lady.” he replied in sincere appreciation.

Her eyes narrowed.  “But there have been some other areas where your service has not been quite up to standard.”

He bowed his head.

“And I think I’ve neglected to address these most recent failings for far too long.”

Beyond his overwhelming craving to be a service slave, Edward did have one other significant kink ... a strong desire for discipline, a need to be punished for any perceived transgressions on his part.  And the Lady occasionally deigned to meet that need, when she herself felt the urge.

“Get over my knee, Edward.” came the command.

Humbly shuffling forward, Edward positioned himself over her bare lap, keeping most of his weight on his bent elbows and knees, his butt arched upward and inviting, over her legs.  After some very long and for him tense moments of anticipation, her beautifully manicured hand slashed down with the first stinging spank.  This was followed in rapid succession by several more.  A brief pause, and then a steady stream of staccato strokes, carried out in silence except for the sharp swats that seemed to go on and on until Edward’s backside became a very interesting shade of red.  This became even more vividly crimson after a few more resounding smacks reaching a fiery crescendo.

But Deanna’s arm grew tired and her palm had its own sting, so she ceased and nudged him off her lap and onto his knees before her.  As he lifted his eyes up she gazed down at him and slowly raised her foot off the floor  extending it toward him to allow him the precious opportunity to express his gratitude.  His behind still bristling he bent forward and down, placing trembling lips on the top of her foot, and with a slight catch in his voice, offered,

“Thank you My Lady for providing the correction I so desperately need.”

She smiled as he knelt back up after paying his homage.  There was now something else that she felt he had been without for too long.  She reached over to her night stand, opened the drawer, and took out the chain with his key.  Seeing this, Edward realized what she meant to do, but he also knew that this had always before only been offered after she had been fully sated and satisfied herself.  He could not allow this to be.

“My Lady ... please ... no.” he implored.

She frowned.  “What do you mean Edward?” she responded, confused.

He had been trying to determine for some time how to confront the issue with her, and he decided to now risk the attempt.

“It’s just that I ... that all of us ... have noted that for too long you have not summoned any of us for your own ... intimate pleasure.”

Her eyes darkened.  “That is none of your concern.”

“Of course not, My Lady.”  He paused, and then plowed ahead.  “But unless you insist and I am forced to obey, I do not wish to have my own relief without you having had your own pleasure.  And if you do so insist, it will be without any enjoyment for me.  Please, My Lady”

Oh Edward, she thought keenly.  Good, kind, caring, steadfast Edward.  Her slave, but even more so her friend.  She looked away and then back, a hint of moisture in her eyes..  She felt that she had to try to respond.

“It’s the writing, I think.” she attempted to explain.  “It seems to be dragging me down.  I just can’t seem to find my voice or direction with it anymore.”

“If you forgive me, My Lady,” he continued after letting that linger a moment, “but I think it’s somewhat more than that.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, now even more confused.

“I think that your difficulties with your writing may be due to something other.  Something else that might be missing.”

“Just what are you suggesting?”

And he really didn’t know.  Just that she needed a change, something different, some new spark.  Things may have been becoming too staid, even stale.

“Maybe a new challenge, something new to stimulate and excite, to help bring back your joie-de-vie.”  He wasn’t sure that this was the answer.  He wasn’t even sure that he liked the answer.  But his Lady’s needs and happiness had to come first, so he ventured ahead.  “Perhaps a new slave.” he offered carefully.  “It’s been almost a year since your last.  But this time not one to fit the needs of the manor, but one solely for you, to form and shape however you want, into whatever you need.  To help rekindle your joy and creativity in everything.”

A heavy silence hung over them for so long that Edward feared that he had overstepped his bounds.

“A new slave.” she finally mused aloud.  One that wouldn’t be for the manor, but solely for her.  One that wouldn’t come with any predetermined passions except to want to be molded by her, in her own time and fashion, into what she most wanted and needed him to be.  Whatever she ever found that to be.  One who would serve no other  purpose.  Is that what was missing as Edward had implied?  She felt an unexpected pang of desire.  Maybe he was right.

She reached to her side to pick up her robe and draped it over her shoulders to cover herself, and beckoned Edward to stand and pull up his pants.

“I think that is a very interesting and nice idea,” she admitted to him after he had done so.  “But he would have to be selected very carefully.  No excess baggage.  Just an intense desire to become what I most want and need.”

“I understand, My Lady.”

She nodded and decided. 

“Begin a search then, Edward.” she resolved.

He bowed his head, with a small, relieved smile.

“As you will, My Lady.”      

      

This is the 6th part of a 12 part tale of a Lady and her stable of slaves

6. The Fifth

In actuality Edward already had a possible candidate in mind.  It was a person with whom he had had many lengthy cyber conversations over the past year and had even arranged to meet once in the city when he was sent there on an errand by his Lady.  The initial contact of course had come through Edward’s blog when the man had sent him a long private email.  Edward received many of these and usually dismissed the vast majority of them after one polite response.  In this case however he had been struck with the man’s sharp insights, but also with his seeming vulnerability and even his poorly masked loneliness.  Edward had kept up with the correspondence and they had become more varied, even at times philosophic, and oftentimes very personal.

A self acknowledged submissive, the man readily admitted from the very start his inability to commit to his orientation and how this had left a huge hole in his life.  He was apparently about the same age as the Lady, and Edward couldn’t help but identify with him as he remembered his own struggles trying to cope with the secret desires of his heart.  He had not been able to find such fulfillment until now, so much later in his life, and he found himself strongly wanting to aid this fellow submissive discover and embrace his own.

Although the man obviously knew from the blog about Edward’s current life situation Edward was intrigued and impressed that he had never directly asked about it or indicated any interest in possibly becoming part of it, as virtually every other cyber correspondent had done.  Edward had wondered if he was just trying not to be intrusive and rude, or that possibly he did not want to jeopardize the on line relationship they were developing.  Most likely, Edward finally surmised, the man was probably still not mentally prepared to consider such a real life changing step.

In all of their many discussions Edward had never been able to discern in the man a specific submissive bent, just a professed fantasy to someday possibly find that special person, a singular woman, who would take control of his life with caring, and hopefully even with affection.  For such a woman he would offer up his entire being for her use, in adoration and complete servitude.  Whether he would ever actually act on such a fantasy, if such an opportunity ever did present itself, was open to real question.

Edward had never before considered that HIS Lady might possibly be that special, singular woman for THIS man.  But now that she had charged him to find someone new for her, someone who posed a challenge, who did not come prepackaged, but upon whom she could write and imprint her own tableau, he had to concede that this man seemed more than promising and appropriate.  And he was also someone whom Edward already felt that he knew and could even trust, which would lower the risk for all of them.  It just might be the perfect situation for all involved, most especially for his Lady, who was of course his most important concern.

But was the man yet at a stage to contemplate such a course.  He was extremely insightful in probing the concepts of dominance and submission, but was he someone who could actually never live such a life despite his protestations and desires otherwise.  Edward concluded that the man would likely never have a more favorable chance to do so, and if it ended in failure for whatever reasons he truly believed that it would not be due to malice or ill will by anyone, and that no one would then be irrevocably hurt.  So he finally resolved to offer his cyber friend this opportunity and let fate work its will.

He carefully crafted a post to him outlining his Lady’s wishes and expectations and the many reasons why he thought his friend should put forth his petition and himself before her.  It took over a day for him to receive a reply, and in it the man expressed deep reservations about his own sufficiency in satisfying the Lady’s needs and requirements given his lack of real experience and confidence.

Edward was actually elated at this initial response.  This was not a potential slave who was coming in with a set of predetermined expectations of his own, but rather a concern that he would be found wanting and would thus prove to be a failure.  Edward sent him a second email hoping to convince him otherwise.

‘Understand that this is a consensual relationship for all concerned’ he wrote.  ‘We all chose to be the Lady’s slaves when she offered it to us.  And if you choose to so submit as well, and she accepts you, it will be the choice of both.  And you will have the ability to leave at any time, as do we, just as she can dismiss you or us at any time for any reason.  But if you are so accepted, and you do so choose, it will be as a slave, totally obedient and subject to her will for as long as you are in her service.  And if you ever choose in any way not to obey, she WILL dismiss you.  But that will have been through your own actions and choice.’

‘So now you have to decide,’ he continued, ‘whether to take a leap to another life, one to which you may find that you are not suited despite the yearnings of your soul.  But if you do not take this leap now you may never again have such an opportunity to learn and to experience.  To live and not just dream.’

This time the response came much more quickly, a mere number of hours later.  ‘Please beg the Lady to allow me a few days to put my affairs in order so that I can then more properly present myself for her judgement.’ 

Edward immediately went to his Lady and detailed to her all that had gone on and everything that he knew about the man.

“Make it happen, Edward.” she directed after hearing his presentation.  “Bring him for an interview.”

So Edward arranged to meet the man the following weekend in the city and bring him back.  He outlined to him all that was to occur and the protocols involved.  He wanted no surprises or misunderstandings.  The man would make his plea and entreaty with his eyes fully open, after of course being blindfolded as was required for the trip back.  And then the Lady would make her decision, and if the man was deemed suitable he would then be offered the only decision he would be allowed to make, whether to accept his enslavement or not.

The car ride was is silence as was also the rule.  When they arrived at the manor the man was taken immediately to the sitting room.  There would be no initial audition of talents this time, just the formal ‘interview’.  He was instructed to strip, and as previously discussed to then kneel naked in front of the easy chair, forehead to the floor and arms stretched out before him.

He remained this way in silence for well over an hour, as his knees groaned and his back stiffened.  But he dared not move lest this be judged his first disqualifying act of disobedience.  Finally he heard steps move softly from behind and then around him to the chair in front, on which someone then sat.  More minutes of silence as he could almost physically feel the weight of the scrutiny bearing down upon him.  At long last ...

“You may kneel up.  Let me see what I have.”

The moment had come.

The man knelt up. 

The Lady stiffened.

“Edward, what is the meaning of this?” she stammered, horrified.  “How could you even dare?”

“My Lady?”  Edward moved forward quickly from the back of the room.  “What is it?”

She looked up at him, enraged.  “How could you do this?  Why would you do this?”  Her eyes were dragged back down almost as if against her will as Edward followed her stricken gaze.

There on his knees before her was Jared, Deanna’s former for one very brief moment, fiancé.

********

It had been a difficult and troubled six years since Jared had walked away from Deanna.  Though he had been the submissive, and would normally have been the one expected to yield, for that one most important  time he had needed, deep within him, to have her be the one to come for him.  To reassure him that she really did want him to be so much more than her slave.  That she wanted, needed him first and foremost to be her MAN.  He loved her so much.  He had wanted to be everything for her.  A part of that would have been to be her slave, a part he would have reveled in as well.  But it could only have been a part, and not even the most important part.  She had to want him to be more.  But she had never come, had never sought him out in any way, and he had finally come to conclude, as he had feared on the day that he had left, that she really had only wanted him as a slave.

For a long time Jared was left bereft, teetering at the edge of a pit of despair.  Trying to find some lifeline out he turned back to his professional career.  He embarked on a punishing exercise program and got himself into the best condition of his life, and to the surprise of many he then went on to have two more very productive seasons with his baseball team, in the second one helping them to win their first World Series in decades.  Even the attainment of this highest professional goal however could not fill the hole in his life.  So, using the rationale for the public that he wanted to go out on top, he retired, knowing full well that the real reason was that his heart was no longer in it, that it hadn’t been for some time, and that it belonged in only one place and that place only.

Fighting it as hard as he was able he could never get Deanna out of his thoughts.  This became even more difficult when she ‘suddenly’ became a best selling author and literary star.  She seemed to appear in front of him in some media venue practically every day.  His longing for her grew, almost as much as his depression over his loss of her continued to drag him down.  Not for the first time he began to seriously wonder whether being her full time slave wouldn’t be better that being nothing for her at all.  But he still had massive doubts about whether he could actually live such a life.  He began to consider an idea of attempting it somewhere else, with someone else, to see if he could handle it before then throwing himself at Deanna’s feet begging her for another chance, even if only in that role.

He had been a follower of Edward’s blog for quite some time.  Along with so many other readers he had been happy for Edward when he was finally able to find and live out his true vocation and nature.  It seemed to be every submissive’s fantasy come true, and even as it seemed to be real and actual slavery Edward appeared to embrace it and thrive without reservation.  Thus when Edward suddenly announced on his blog that his Lady was looking to take on a new slave to be responsible for the care of the grounds of her estate, Jared was forced to confront the possibility that this might be the opportunity that he should seize to test his resolve and ability to become a real slave.  He had no experience as a groundskeeper, but he was fit and strong and not afraid of manual labor.  It was the other more serious aspect of it all that terrified him.  But he had to find some way to prove to himself that he was capable of this, so that he would not fail her again if Deanna were to ever consider accepting him back.

Steeling his resolve Jared wrote to Edward to offer his petition.  He readily admitted to having little experience at either grounds keeping or in being a slave, but promised to work to learn and be taught how to excel at both.  Upon receiving the post Edward was impressed with the honesty and humility, but even more so with the lack of expression of any set of expectations or rewards, only the correspondent’s desire to serve.  Though he expected that this lack of experience would probably lead to the man being  ultimately found unsuitable Edward did include him in his winnowed list of three candidates to meet and interview face to face.

As Jared arrived at the designated hotel for his ‘interview’ he was once again assailed with serious doubts.  Looking on from a distance at the assigned area in the hotel lobby for their meeting he saw an older gentleman sitting there waiting, whom he could only assume must be Edward, and he had the sudden realization that entering any potential relationship with Edward and his Lady would be done under false pretenses.  It was not that he was backing away from his decision to try to be a slave.  It was just that he now understood that he could only ever be Deanna’s slave.  And even if she never wanted to have anything to do with him, or ever see him again, he felt that being a slave to anyone else would not only be cheating on her, but given the circumstances of their break it would be the worst form of betrayal.

Coming to this sure conclusion after standing in the background and watching Edward for well over thirty minutes he finally worked up the courage to go up to him to attempt to explain it all.  But as he started to walk forward to do so another somewhat younger man approached Edward.  They both looked at their watches, looked around and shook their heads, and then walked away together, leaving Jared to suppose that it had all worked out for the best.

Returning home however he felt both relieved yet very depressed.  More than ever he knew that he needed to be with Deanna, even if only as her slave.  He had to find her, to plead his case, to pledge his servitude.  It had to be in person so he could convince her of his utter sincerity and need.  But he had no idea of how to accomplish this.  He no longer knew where she lived or how to contact her, and because of her new won celebrity she had apparently gone to extraordinary lengths to protect and safeguard her privacy.  She didn’t even have a literary or author’s website, very unusual in the current media age, but this lack of easy public availability, almost as it she wanted to be hidden away, only seemed to add to her popular allure.

Still, books had to be sold and publishers continued to have certain intractable demands, so when her third book, almost instantly a best seller, came out soon after, she was more than willing to take this one opportunity to bask in her fans’ adulation on a requisite book signing tour.  When Jared, heart in his throat, saw that she would have one such appearance in his home city he knew that this would likely be his last and only chance, and he swore to himself to make the most of it.

The bookstore on the scheduled day was mobbed and the line for Deanna’s personally signed books snaked through the length of it.  Jared decided to stay in the back and not make his fateful approach to her until it was over and she was preparing to leave.  He was of course extremely unsure of what her reaction would be and he didn’t want to risk ruining her day and the occasion before it was done.  He could only hope that she would give him the chance later to plead his case.

Seeing her for the first time in over six years, even at a distance from the back of the store, Jared could see that she was more beautiful than ever, regal and captivating as always, appearing like a benevolent Queen holding public court before her adoring populace.  He was totally bewitched and entranced and he knew now without any question that all he could ever want was to spend the rest of his life at her feet.  But when she turned to speak to one of the two men standing behind her Jared staggered backward.  It couldn’t be.  He stared and gaped but soon had no doubt.  The man to whom she was speaking was the same older man he was supposed to have met for that ‘interview’ at the hotel.  The one he had assumed could only have been Edward.  And the man standing next to him, whom Deanna now addressed casually as well, was the same one who had come up, met and then left with Edward when Jared had failed to reveal himself.

That both of these men were with Deanna and not just bystanders became clear very quickly, as they remained implacably behind her throughout except when one or the other would scurry away on some errand at her bidding, bringing her refreshments, or more books to be signed, or for a pillow for her to sit on, or anything else that she might demand or require. 

The ramifications were impossible to ignore.  Jared had always understood that after all of these years Deanna might have found and be involved with somebody else, even as there had never been any mention or inkling of that in the public domain.  But that she might be ‘The Lady’ of Edward’s blog, the Lady who, if Edward was to be believed, now lived with and ‘owned’ a ‘stable’ of slaves, was almost beyond his ability to grasp.  There was no denying the scene playing out before his eyes however.  There was Deanna soliciting ... no, commanding the two men attending behind her, the same two men who in the recent past had wanted to interview him to become another one of her slaves.  Though this was a role that Jared had so ardently desired it no longer seemed in the realm of possibility.  She had seemingly moved so far beyond him that he felt that she would most likely laugh if not actually sneer at his presumption.  He had steeled himself in advance to face the possibility of her rejection, but he didn’t believe that in light of where her life had now apparently gone that he could withstand her delighted scorn.

He knew that he was likely being very unfair as to how she would react.  In his heart he knew that she was a far more kind and caring person than that.  It was just that, as he now understood, she needed deep within her to be in total control.  When they had first started experimenting with dominance and submission, at his behest he readily acknowledged, he had regarded it as a fun and enticing game.  But it had obviously become far more vital and important to her than that and he hadn’t at the time known how to respond.  He had come back now willing to be just her slave if that was all she wanted of him but he had still harbored the hope that he could be so much more than that for her, as it had been before.

Now, looking upon her and considering all that had been detailed in Edward’s blog, Jared realized that Deanna had gone on to a far different realm, one where it was very unlikely that there would ever be a place or a role for him.  Distraught, he felt that it would now be far too uncomfortable for both of them for him to try to impose his presence and his petition upon her.  The last thing he would ever want was to cause her any further distress or pain.  She had apparently found, without him, what she most wanted and needed in her life.  For both of their sakes he would not allow himself to disrupt or interfere with that in any way.  Desolate but decided, he turned and left, leaving hopes and dreams dashed behind.

But over the next several weeks and months Jared found that he was unable to completely let go.  He had to try to maintain some connection to her, to their past together, no matter how tenuous or removed.  He read  every new entry in Edward’s blog over and over, which only further ensnared him.  After much time and continuous vacillation he finally worked up the courage to send Edward a new private post using a different email address and name than he had before.  In it he detailed how much the blog had come to mean to him, and how much it had helped him come to terms over the years with his own submissive nature, though he readily admitted that as yet he had not been able to bring it to any useful fruition.  He wasn’t greatly surprised, but was very much thrilled, when Edward posted a long reply and they then began an active and spirited correspondence.  At Edward’s suggestion, after some time and many online discussions, they had even once met, further cementing their relationship and growing friendship.  Jared was always extremely careful to avoid questions about Edward’s current life situation with ‘his Lady’ and her ‘stable’.  He didn’t want to do anything that might risk the severing of this very indirect link to Deanna, and even more importantly the friendship he was  forging with Edward.

So it was with a great deal of consternation when after over a year of correspondence between them he received a post from Edward suggesting that his Lady was interested in acquiring a new slave, and that Edward thought that this would be a perfect opportunity for him to stop yearning and actually start living the life he professed to want to have.  This brought Jared into a serious quandary.  He had never really expected any such offer to occur, even as he had inwardly fantasized it so.  Presented with the reality however he could not see how it would not end in any way except in pain and disaster.  After a day of tortured indecision he crafted a response indicating reasons why he would not be up to the task.  Edward’s answering salvo not only played down these ‘concerns’, but offered every rationale of why he should proceed.  If only Edward really knew.  But Jared’s paper thin defenses crumbled.  Despite his protestations, even to himself, he knew that he wanted this.  Badly.  Even as he believed and feared that this would be how it would end.  But he had to try, or he would never be able to live with himself again.

********

As he knelt up naked in front of her after all of these years Jared was at a total loss in imagining how Deanna would react.  He had of course anticipated some degree of anger, even possibly rage until her shock subsided, but nothing like the wrath that was now being directed not at him, but rather at Edward as she ‘explained’ just whom Jared was.  He could not allow his friend to bear what should be directed solely and deservedly only at him.

“Edward didn’t know, My Lady.” he ventured forth.

“Well he should have” she practically screamed.  She shuddered, and made a visible effort to collect herself taking several deep breaths.  “No, that may be unfair.” she finally conceded, looking only at Edward.  “I really shouldn’t find so much fault with anyone being taken in by someone who is obviously so practiced in deceit.”

She slowly turned her eyes, which had been so aflame with fury but were now cold as ice, to the figure kneeling before her.

“What can you possibly want here, Jared?”.  She spat out his name with utter disgust.

He gathered himself.  This was the moment and he would keep it short and simple.  No lengthy explanations or entreaties.

“I want to be your slave, My Lady.”

“I’m not your Lady.” she replied in a rush.  “I will never BE your Lady.  You were given that choice once before, and as I told you then it would be the only chance you would ever have to take it.  And you rejected it.”

The pain in those last words was palpable to all and brought Edward out of his anguished haze.

“Let me take him from here and send him on his way, My Lady.”

“NO.” she responded sharply.  For reasons she didn’t fully understand she couldn’t bring herself to order him away.  He had to be the one to leave, of his own volition.  As he had done before, he had to do again.  She would not be the one to force him to go, even as she would make it clear to him how unwelcome his presence was.

“No Edward.” she repeated more calmly.  “He has to leave of his own accord as he did once before.  Only that time I wanted him to stay.  This time there is nothing that I want more than for him to be gone.  Forever.”

She turned her attention to him once again.  “So Jared, understanding that, and make no mistake about it, do you still wish to stay?” she asked with pure disdain in her voice.

“Yes ... Ma’am.”

Deanna’s eyes blazed once again.  How could he be doing this?  And the bigger question was Why?  Too late she realized that she had painted herself into a corner with no easy way out.  She desperately wanted him to leave but she needed him to decide to go on his own.  There was no way that she could allow HIM to become the wronged one, the victim, as he had caused her to be all those years ago.  He had been the one to leave before and he had to be the one to do so again.  She couldn’t let him get off so easily.  She would not be the one to force him to go and allow him to believe that the scales had somehow been balanced.  That could never be.  No, she had to find a way to convince him to leave on his own, to be the perpetrator, the snake, once again.  And she had to find it right away.  But what?  A glimmer of an idea began to form and she grabbed onto it with force.  He certainly wouldn’t put up with this.  She bore her gaze down upon him once again.

“So you came here to be a slave, is that what you’re saying, Jared?”

Jared bowed his head.  “Yes Ma’am.” he answered softly.

“Well if you truly want to stay it can only be as a slave.”  She paused and then continued with vehemence.  “But NOT as MY slave.  You will never be MY slave.  To remain here it will only be as the personal slave of all of the rest of my slaves.  Then you will find out what being a slave is really all about.”

Edward took an anxious step forward.  “My Lady, I don’t think ...”

“Edward!” came the pointed rebuff which silenced him immediately.

“So Jared,” she continued, “you would be the slave of my slaves, to be used in any way that they see fit, and I’m sure that they will find any number of interesting ways to use you, not only to ease the many burdens I lay on them, but also for their own amusement.  And it will remain that way until you finally choose to leave.  Which will be the only choice allowed for you to make.”  She paused again to drive home her point.  “I ask you then one last time.  Is this what you want?”

Jared was seriously shaken, and he struggled to maintain his outward composure.  This was most definitely not what he wanted.  But he had come so far and he was so lost.  He needed her so much.  He slowly raised his head and eyes to meet her glare.

“As you will, Ma’am.”

A sharp intake of breath.  “No, as YOU will, Jared.  I will have nothing to do with it.  Or with you.”  For the briefest of moments a flicker of doubt, even of fear, played across her eyes before they returned to frost.  An exhale.  “So be it then.” she finally proclaimed.  She broke their eye contact and turned back to Edward.  “Edward, take this piece of trash and deposit it somewhere, and then gather all the rest and come to me so I can inform you all of ... the new circumstances.”

“As you command, My Lady.”  Edward, with undisguised enmity, then prodded the still kneeling Jared up and led him out of the room.

Watching them leave Deanna couldn’t help but feel unsettled.  ‘A new challenge’, Edward had said as they had embarked on all of this.  Well it certainly would be that she had to concede, but a far different one than either of them had ever envisioned.  But, she vowed to herself, it was a challenge she was determined to win.

 

This is the 7th part of a 12 part tale of a Lady and her stable of slaves

7.  Slaves’ Slave

Jared  was ‘deposited’ and left without a word by Edward in the basement of the manor.  He remained naked as his clothes had not been brought along, either through an oversight by Edward, or as a deliberate display of pique.  Or, Jared wondered, as possibly to more starkly emphasize his new circumstance and status.  He was still dazed by all that had just occurred.  That Deanna might not be pleased, and even be furious at his unexpected reappearance in her life was something he had accepted, and for which he had tried to be mentally prepared.  He would have been devastated but not entirely surprised if she had immediately insisted that he get out and never come back.  But she had not done that.  She had made it a point that she would not tell him or force him to leave, even as she made it very clear that she did not want and would not have anything whatsoever to do with him.  He would have to make that decision to go himself.  But the conditions under which he would be allowed to stay if he so decided, were something beyond his direst imaginings.  He would be a slave, not to the only person to whom he would ever be willing or desire to be enslaved, but instead to four strangers, men who themselves all had the privilege of which Deanna had just vowed that HE would never again be granted ... to be HER slave.

This was definitely not something that Jared would ever have conceived of wanting.  There was nothing remotely romantic, erotic or even caring about it.  It was purely and solely enforced and unquestioning servitude and labor for people to whom he had no wish to be subject.  She had said that he could end it at any time, even before it began, by simply leaving.  But it was not so simple.  To do so would forever sever any dreams he might have of being with her, and he just couldn’t bring himself to do that.  Not again.  Not without trying.  If this was the condition she set for him to have any place in her life, however minuscule and debased, he would grab it and try to prove himself to her.  If he failed, and if she continued to want nothing more from him than to be out of her life for good, it would not be for the lack of his determined effort.  And maybe, just maybe ...

Jared banished and walled off that last thought deep within him.  It would not help his situation to have such thoughts so readily evident.  He began to more seriously contemplate his lot.  He could understand why Edward would be so angry, feeling both betrayed and played and himself now subject to his Lady’s displeasure.  That had never been Jared’s intention.  Indeed he had never truly planned for any such return and had honestly tried to resist when as a bolt out of the blue it had first been proposed.  But he had been overcome by Edward’s gentle persuasion and his own deeply buried but  overwhelming yearnings and dreams.

He wondered as well about the other three ‘slaves’.  From Edward’s blog he knew names, but whether these were their real names he couldn’t be sure.  Jared suspected though that Edward’s description of them and their duties and life here were probably reasonably true.  How would they all react to him?  Would they hold him in contempt for what he had done to their Lady, and to Edward?  Or even worse, would they view him as a threat and do everything they could to drive him away?  He shuddered at the many possibilities even as he again resolved to try to see it all through.

To calm himself he began to survey his surroundings.  In his blog Edward had described it as more of a playroom, and in truth it really wasn’t the classic S&M dungeon.  There were a few items that did reflect the manor’s nature.  In the center of the room there was a winch with several hanging chains, surrounded by a number of floor and ceiling hooks.  In one far corner there was a four foot square steel kennel like cage, and in the other corner there was a pair of wooden stocks.  What was conspicuous by their absence however was the lack of any evidence of whips, crops, paddles or canes.  Thankfully, as Jared remembered, this had not been one of Deanna’s particular interests.  There was also a scarcity of places to sit.  Except for one small wooden stool there was only one large leather easy chair that was on a small slightly raised platform against the near wall.  There could be little doubt for whose use that chair was reserved.  With no idea how long he would be waiting before someone came for him, Jared sat down on the wooden stool.

With increasing anxiety he sat in silence as one hour passed onto well over two.  Finally he heard the door above open and he jumped off the chair and made his way to stand in the middle of the room as four men with Edward in the lead came down the steps.  They paused at the bottom to regard him, and then led again by Edward they walked forward slowly, stopping several feet from him, the other three spreading out behind Edward to form a small semicircle.  They continued to stare at him, their faces for the most part impassive.  His ongoing nakedness was now so much more utterly humiliating under the stern scrutiny of these clothed unknown men than it had ever been before Deanna.  He felt that they were looking at him as if he was some repulsive insect that had to be crushed.  The silence stretched on for over a minute before Edward coldly spoke.

“It would be best for everyone involved of course if you decided right now to just take your things and go.”  He let that sentiment hang for a moment.  “It is what everyone, most of all the Lady wants.” he continued.  As once again there was no response from Jared, he went on.  “But the Lady has also made it explicitly clear that none of us are allowed or should do anything to physically force you to go, and of course ... we obey.”  Another long pause before he again proceeded.  “But as she also declared to you, there are strict conditions that you must meet for as long as you persist in remaining.  You can only stay here solely and simply as a slave, to be used as such by each and all of us in front of you.  You will answer to any and all of us with unquestioning, immediate and total obedience, and the only reward you will ever be granted is to be allowed to proceed onto you next ordered task.  Any actual or even perceived dereliction will result in necessary correction, which as none of us here wish to waste our time or energy in corporeal activities, will instead be meted out by having you spend the very little time that will be allotted to you for rest at night be spent in some of the ... accommodations ... you see down here.” he added nodding toward the cage and then the stocks.  He again waited another moment to let that be absorbed.

“Your life here will be one purely of work and drudgery.” he continued.  “There will be no attempt or desire by any of us to have you find any comfort or solace.  While you undoubtedly will hear us call each other by our names, you will only refer to each of us as ‘Sir’ ... or in one particular case,” he added nodding at Abel, “as ‘Ma’am’.  Unfortunately,” he went on, “it may be unavoidable that your presence might from time to time cross the path of the Lady.  You will make every effort to evade those possible times, but should they occur you will immediately cast your eyes down and away from her and try to make yourself as insignificant and invisible as possible.  Under no circumstances should you ever attempt to address her.  In her eyes you do not exist, and that is how you will act.”

Edward took a deep breath and sighed.  This had all been very distasteful to him and he wanted nothing more than for it all to be over.  He would never be able to forgive himself for how he had failed his Lady.  Still, he could only pray that this part of it could end now.  “So these are the conditions that must be met for you to remain.  If they are not then you will be punished.  But of course you are free to leave ... forever ... at any time.  Would you like to leave now?” he concluded hopefully.

Jared called on every bit of inner strength he had within him.  There was really no choice for him to make, at least not yet.

“No Sir.” he answered softly.

“I was afraid of that.” Edward sighed.  “Alright then we’ll do it the hard way, although I strongly suspect it going to be much harder for you than for us.  Follow me.”  With that Edward turned and started up the stairs.  The others made no move, but Jared had been given an order, and he now had no choice but to immediately obey.

The Lady had indeed made it very clear to them, when they had been gathered to her, of what she wanted and expected of the ‘new circumstances’, even as it was not entirely clear yet to herself.  She had declared that Jared was to be used but not physically abused, and she had meant that in more ways than one.  He was to be worked however, and worked hard, and treated and regarded at all times as nothing more than a slave.  Their slave.  They were to make sure that she never had anything to do with him, and that she have as little contact with him as possible.  She left the details and any extensive explanations for all of this, as far as he knew them, to Edward.  She left little uncertainty for any of them though of how she desired it all to end.  She wanted this new slave gone, but the decision to leave had to come from him.

Edward led Jared up to the first floor and to the back of the house to a small 8 by 8 foot room adjacent to the laundry area.  Except for some storage of laundry supplies stacked in the corner, it had basically been unused.  Now there was a small mattress on the floor with a pair of folded sheets and one blanket on top of it.  The only other piece of furniture in the room was a small wooden stool, like the one in the basement, on top of which was a folded pair of gray trousers, a gray tee shirt, a pair of white socks, and a pair of white briefs.  At the foot of the stool was a pair of old sneakers.

“This is where you’ll stay at night for those few hours when you’re not working.” Edward informed him.  “We were able to put together some old clothes for you to wear until we get you some others.  As a slave you have nothing and you will only be allowed to use and wear what is provided to you.  The clothes you came in will be given back to you only when you finally decide to leave ... hopefully sooner rather than later.”  He paused as if hoping that Jared might take him up on that offer right away.  When he did not, Edward continued.  “We all meet in the kitchen every morning at 6 o’clock.  Be there before us.  You’ll get your work assignments then.”  Edward paused once again as if he wanted to say something more.  “I would get as much rest as you can tonight.  There won’t be much of it for you from now on.”  With that he turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Jared stood numbly, alone and unmoving in the room for several minutes.  He wasn’t sure what to do.  About any of it.  He finally went over and put on the pair of briefs.  It wouldn’t do to try to sleep in the rest of the clothes, the only ones they had left him.  He then put the sheets and the blanket on the mattress, noting the lack of a pillow.  The only light in the room was a bare one in the ceiling.  After a few more minutes he went and turned that out, plunging the small room into darkness. He made his way carefully over to the mattress and lay down, covering himself.  Try as he might though, he was unable to fall asleep.  Too many thoughts and fears roiled through his mind.  How could he do this, and more importantly did he really want to?  They were all making it abundantly clear that they would do everything to ‘encourage’ him to go.  But he just had to stay, to do anything and everything that it took, until he was absolutely certain that there was no longer any hope.

He tossed and turned uncomfortably for how many hours he couldn’t judge, finally catching a few snatches of sleep along the way.  From one of these he snapped awake and bolted up to turn on the light.  His wristwatch had been one of the items that had been forfeit with his clothing so he had no idea of the time.  But he had been given his first order when Edward had left and he didn’t want there to be any chance of failing it.  He put on the rest of the clothes that had been left him, all a little big on him although the sneakers pinched, and he then ventured out into the still darkened hallway.  He left the door open so that light could filter out, and started his way down the hall.  About halfway along he came across a bathroom and went in to relieve himself.  There was no telling when and if he would be allowed to do so later.  He then made his way to the end of the hall which opened into the kitchen.  He turned on the light there and was relieved to see a clock on the wall which read 5:15.  He was on time.

About 15 minutes later one of the other slaves hurried into the room.  It was the slim, youngest appearing on with the long blond hair.  Jared estimated that he was probably in his twenties.  The young man seemed startled and even somewhat embarrassed when he saw Jared, but said nothing and immediately set about his duties of making the morning meal, apparently first for the other slaves.

Jared stood in the middle of the room not knowing what to do, and an awkward silence continued.  At times he had to step out of the way as the other man moved back and forth to get items for his meal.  Finally, a bit exasperated, the young man spoke.

“You’re just in my way here.  Why don’t you go stand over there until Edward comes.”

“Yes Sir.”  Jared responded and moved over to stand in the corner that the young man had indicated.  About 20 minutes later, almost precisely at 6, two other men entered the room, the large muscular one wearing work clothes, and another somewhat older one wearing a suit.  A minute later Edward in his Butler uniform arrived and they all greeted each other quietly.  Then, except for the young man, they all sat down at the long kitchen table along the side wall.

The young man brought over platters of scrambled eggs, bacon, and buttered toast that he had prepared, along with carafes of coffee.  He then sat down to join them as they all ate.

“I’ve got a late meeting in the city this afternoon negotiating the movie rights to the Lady’s second book, Abel,” the man in the suit said, “so I probably won’t get back until well after eight.”

“I’ll have some dinner saved and put aside for you, Michael.” the young man replied.

“Thanks.”

“How are the negotiations going?” Edward inquired.

“Very well so far.” Michael replied.  “With the very nice box office success of the film of her first book I have little doubt that the Lady is going to reap quite the financial reward for the second.”

“As she should.” Edward concluded.

The four men continued to eat and converse quietly as Jared stood, completely ignored, in the corner.  He himself had not eaten anything since breakfast the day before in his own apartment and his stomach now grumbled as he watched them eat, and he would have died for a cup of coffee.  Finally, after about 30 minutes as some of them were making motions to get up and leave, Edward turned to him.

“You, come here.” he ordered.

Jared made his way quickly over to stand before the still seated Edward.  “Yes Sir?” he responded.

“You will work for Thomas this morning.”  Edward stated indicating the man in the work clothes.  “And then this afternoon you will be under Belle’s supervision.”  Jared knew from the blog that one of them, probably Abel, dressed up as a maid and did all of the housework in such attire.  “After that,” Edward continued, “I will inform you of what you night time duties will entail.”

With that Edward stood up and turned his attention back to Abel.  “The lady doesn’t want to be woken until nine this morning, Abel.” he said as he rose.  “She had a rather tiring and irksome day yesterday” he continued, glancing pointedly at Jared, and then back to Abel.  “So have her breakfast ready about 9:30 if you please.”

“Of course, Edward.”  Abel replied.  He then stepped forward carrying a plate with two pieces of buttered toast that had been left over on the table, along with a cup of black coffee.  “Could you let him take a minute to eat and drink this, Edward?”  He asked indicating Jared.  “We don’t want him passing out on us.”

“No, that wouldn’t do.” Edward concurred dryly.  Turning back to Jared.  “Hurry up with that then.  I’m sure that Thomas wants to get you to work.”

Jared took the offered plate gratefully, and standing there rapidly consumed the two pieces of cold toast.  He then quickly drank the lukewarm black coffee, which he always preferred with cream.  Oh well, he sighed internally,  beggars ... no, make that slaves ... can’t be choosers.  In less than a minute he was done.

‘You come along then.” the one called Thomas then said irritably, and turned and strode out of the room.  Jared put the plate and cup down and hurried to follow.

They went outside and first to a shed where Thomas took out a shovel and handed it to Jared, and then led him to the back of the manor, much of which appeared to be set aside as a garden.  Thomas indicated a six foot high, twenty foot long stone wall at the far side, with nothing in front of it but a few bushes.

“The lady wants a row of rose bushes along the entire length of that wall.” Thomas informed him.  “I want you to dig up those bushes and then dig a two foot wide, two foot deep trench along the entire length so that I can plant the new roses there.”  Thomas glared at him.  “Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir.”

Thomas grunted, then “I’m going into town to buy the rose bushes and the necessary top soil and fertilizer.  See that this is all done and ready when I get back.”  He turned and walked away without even acknowledging Jared’s second  “Yes Sir.”

Jared took the shovel and set to work.  A few moments later he saw Thomas driving away in a large pick up truck, and a minute after that Michael driving off in a sedan.  Attacking the few bushes first he found that removing them was far more difficult than he would have thought as the roots were deeply embedded and entwined and he only had the shovel to try to cut through them.  It took him over two hours to finally clear the three bushes.  He then began digging the ordered trench.  This also proved to be far more laborious than he had anticipated as there were more than a few large underground rocks encountered that had to be dug around and pulled out, all making the going much slower than he would have hoped.

Well past what he thought must be mid morning he saw Edward come out and drive away in the large Town Car that had brought him to the manor the day before.  He rested for a moment and looked at his hands which were already blistered and raw.  He had not been given any work gloves.  He still had about half of the trench to dig and he was already tired and aching.  But he couldn’t give in this early and this easily.  He set back to work, his muscles and back groaning and his hands burning.

About an hour and a half later Thomas returned in the pick up truck and came to inspect.  Jared still had about three feet of trench to go to the end of the wall.

“I thought you’d be well done by now.” Thomas complained. “You must have been slacking off quite a bit.  Well, it’s about a half an hour to noon so it looks like you’re going to have to miss lunch while you finish this up.  And when you’re done with the trench, go get the bags of soil and fertilizer from the back of the truck and bring them here.  And then bring the rose bushes over as well.”  Without another word Thomas then turned and went into the house.

Fortunately the last three feet of trench had no rocks and he was able to finish it in about 15 minutes.  As he did so he saw Edward return and go into the house carrying two large shopping bags.  Jared went around to the garage to the pick up truck and found the back cab filled with about a dozen individual rose bushes and bags of topsoil and fertilizer.  There were at least twenty bags of both, each weighing forty pounds.  He sighed and then began carrying them one at a time to the back, which took him close to an hour to finish.  He then started bringing back the rose bushes, which while not as heavy were much more bulky, and he couldn’t help but be pricked often by the thorns.  He had only carried three of them back when Thomas returned.

“Damn, you’re not done yet?” he snorted.  “Well I guess there’s nothing for it.  You have to get to Belle.  Maybe you’ll be a little more useful to her.  But you can’t go traipsing around the Lady’s house as filthy as you are.  Take a fast shower in the bathroom by that room of yours and then report to Belle.”  Thomas turned and walked away and Jared was too tired to even offer a “Yes Sir.” to his back.

He made his way through the back door by the laundry room and to his little room next to it.  He was surprised to find two other new pairs of gray trousers and two gray tee shirts, two pairs of socks and a three pack of white briefs all set out on his stool, at the bottom of which were a new pair of work shoes and a pair of sneakers, all of them in his size.  That must have been where Edward had gone and what he had brought back.  At least he now had some clean and better fitting clothes to wear for his afternoon duties.  There was also a towel folded on his mattress.  He took it and made his way to the bathroom to hurriedly shower.  Five minutes later he was washed, dried and dressed, and he rushed down to the kitchen to report to Belle.

He found her there waiting and he was instantly taken aback.  It was not that she was fully dressed in a maid’s outfit from the cap on the top of her head to the flats on her feet, but that, to his very surprised eye, she seemed in every way, every inch a female.  This was not at all what he had expected.

“Ma’am?” he offered tentatively.

“Here.” she finally answered and pointed to the table.  “I saved you a sandwich and something to drink.  Eat it up so we can get to work.”

“Yes Ma’am.  Thank you Ma’am.” and he meant it sincerely.  He went over to the table and found a well stacked ham and cheese sandwich with tomato and lettuce, and a tall glass of lemonade.  Not wanting to keep his benefactress waiting any longer than necessary, and also because he was starving, he gobbled and gulped them both down rapidly.

“Okay then.” Belle said when she saw that he was finished.  “Come with me.” she said, not at all sharply.  They walked out into the main body of the first floor.  “There are three bathrooms on this floor.  I’d like you to clean them all while I do the other rooms.”  She paused as if considering.  “Under no circumstances are you to ever go up to the second floor.  Cleaning there will be my sole responsibility.”  She guided him to the supply closet and pulled out a bucket, scrub brush, sponges and a bottle of cleaning liquid, handing them to him before leading him to the first bathroom.  “The Lady likes the porcelain in all the bathrooms to gleam.” she said.  “And make sure you get out all the grit and mildew in the cracks and grout between the tiles.” she added almost apologetically.

“Yes Ma’am.” Jared answered as she left, and he spent the next four hours up and down off his knees, scrubbing, washing and polishing the floors, tiles, and the porcelain sinks, baths and toilets in all three of the bathrooms he had been assigned.  It was Abel who finally came back for him just as he was finishing up in the last one and told him to put everything away and come to the kitchen for dinner.  After he had done all that  had ordered he made his way to the kitchen to find all of the other slaves except for Michael already there eating.  Abel got up to bring them more platters of food, and then a plate full to Jared standing in the corner where he had positioned himself.  Not being ‘invited’ anywhere else, he ate there standing up.  When he had finished Edward motioned him over.

“You clean up the table here, wash and put away the pots and pans and dishes, and then your evening duties each night will be to clean all the slave quarters, including making the beds and doing all the slave laundry.”

Completing those tasks took the rest of the evening, and it wasn’t until close to 11, when having been given no further assignments, that Jared with every muscle in his body seemingly sore made his way back to his room and collapsed onto the mattress.  Before getting up to turn off the light he noticed an old fashioned alarm clock on the floor next to him.  It was probably just that they didn’t want him to miss any work, he thought, but he couldn’t help but appreciate the small courtesy as he set it for 5 AM and then turned off the light.  He had no trouble falling and staying asleep this night.

And so a pattern was set.  In the mornings Jared would work on the grounds outside for Thomas.  He was then allowed his daily shower before the afternoons when he was Belle’s to use.  At her direction this rapidly evolved to where he became totally responsible for cleaning and maintaining the first floor and basement, while she worked exclusively upstairs and took care of the Lady’s laundry.  His evenings were spent cleaning the other slaves’ rooms, and washing, drying and ironing their clothes.  As long as his work was completed he was allowed to take his meals at the same time as them, although not at the table with them.  He ate either standing up or sitting on the floor in his corner, where he remained unless he was summoned over for some other chore.  None of them ever spoke to him except to give him orders and they never called him by name, taking Edward’s lead referring to him simply as ‘you’, or just issuing a curt command.  Most of them made little effort to hide in any way their disdain for him.

As his first month there stretched to the end of two there did begin to be a small softening in attitudes though.  A number of them couldn’t help but develop a grudging respect for how hard he worked, how immediate his obedience was, and how he performed all of his chores without any seeming complaint.  While there was no lessening of work assignments they no longer went out of their way to make them more onerous than they already were, beginning to allow him use of more adequate work aids and equipment, and even at times helping him out when it was obvious that more than one slave’s efforts were needed.  The only one whose attitude didn’t thaw was Edward, who continued to make it readily evident that he always found Jared’s ongoing presence as never better, and usually worse than unpleasant.

During this entire time, except for Edward, contact for any of them with the Lady had become much less frequent.  She rapidly had become aware of the ‘schedule’ and except for meals she only came downstairs to the first floor in the mornings, and only ventured outside in the afternoons, and remained exclusively upstairs after her dinner in the evenings.

She diligently returned to her writing and her latest novel.  Much to the growing concern of both Edward and Michael as they read the rough drafts, her main character was becoming even more loathsome and despicable.  Often when writing in the morning she found her attention drifting to outside her office window when she heard Thomas and his slave working below.  She never ceased to admire and enjoy watching Thomas’ well muscled physique toiling for her, but her eyes were now all too frequently and almost involuntarily drawn and riveted to the other body there, one that had always, and still beguiled her, and from which she found that she had to consciously force her attention away.

Despite her precautions, in the first month of his unwanted stay Deanna had had two chance encounters with Jared.  They weren’t very involved or prolonged as on both occasions he had immediately tried to melt into the nearest wall, as she had rapidly turned on her heels and hurried away in the opposite direction.  After both episodes she had been inwardly furious with herself for her childish reaction.  This was not how the Lady of the Manor should act in front of anyone, especially a ... a ...   That was the issue wasn’t it.  What was he?  She just didn’t know. And just as surely she didn’t want to find out. She resolved to make every effort to avoid any contact with him in any way until he finally understood the message and exited from the manor... and her life, for good.

As the second month of Jared’s stay progressed into a third Edward noted with growing alarm his Lady’s increasing isolation from the rest of the household, and how it was adversely affecting them all.  Of most concern to him was how it was affecting his Lady herself.  He knew it was above his place and station to ever question her, but he felt he had to take some action.  After much contemplation and mental preparation, one evening after finishing the ritual of helping her prepare for bed he worked up the courage to proceed.

“My Lady, may I speak?”

Deanna was surprised as she had never required Edward to ask permission if he had issues to raise.  She sat up in the bed and propped some pillows behind her.

“Of course Edward.”

There could be no hesitance.  No beating around the bush.

“Let me send him away, My Lady.  As soon as possible.”

A stab of fear knifed through her, although she maintained her outward calm.  There was no question as to who ‘him’ was.

“Why?” she asked quietly.  “Is he proving unsatisfactory as a slave?”

“No.” Edward conceded.  “Unfortunately he appears to be performing more than adequately in that regard.  The others even appear to be developing a reluctant acceptance, even respect for him.”

Deanna wasn’t particularly pleased to hear that.  “Then why, Edward?  You know I’ve made it very clear that the decision to leave has to be his.”

“Because he’s made you a prisoner in your own home, My Lady.” he cried.  “You no longer participate in and enjoy all that you have created here, and it’s affecting everyone, most importantly you.”

She turned her face away for a moment and then back to him.  She needed to change the direction of this conversation right away.  “It’s the book, Edward.  I’ve been working so hard on it, and I’ve fallen so far behind.”

“Yes ... the book.” he replied slowly.

“I know you don’t care much for the direction it’s going,” she said defensively, “but it’s the story I want to write, and I know that the end will be just what I need it to be.” she added more sharply.

“I trust that will be so My Lady.” he allowed.  “But I think it’s all far more than that.”

She bowed her head.  Edward knew her too well.  She looked up at him again.  “I just can’t give him the satisfaction of being the one to send him away.” she finally insisted, almost helplessly.

“I think he wants far more than satisfaction, My Lady, and it’s certainly not to be sent away.”

“Well that’s something he will never have.” she retorted vehemently.

“Then make him go My Lady, before his continued presence here poisons everything you’ve worked so hard to build.”

She turned her face away again, and almost involuntarily breathed out  “I can’t.”  Then, horrified that Edward must have heard she struggled to gather herself to regain the upper ground.  Long tense moments followed before she took a deep breath and continued.

“Perhaps I have been neglecting too long my responsibilities and enjoyment as Lady of the House.”  And, she thought, maybe ‘he’ needed to really see everything that he would never again have.  She paused another few seconds, considering, then proceeded.  “Inform Thomas that tomorrow night he will be bound.”

It wasn’t all that Edward had hoped for, but it was a first step.  “As you wish, My Lady.”

“Good.  Eight o’clock tomorrow morning, Edward.  Good night.”

Acknowledging his dismissal he turned to go.  “Good night, My Lady.”

“Oh, and Edward.” she said as he reached the door.

“Yes, My Lady?” he answered turning back.

She smiled serenely.  “You will of course have to be punished later for your presumption this evening..”

He returned her smile in kind.  “Of course, My Lady.”

Perhaps a very good start indeed, he reflected a bit more optimistically as he departed. 

  

This is the 8th part of a 12 part tale of a Lady and her stable of slaves

8.  A Burning Decision

The next morning, as he stood in his assigned corner during the slave morning meal, Jared couldn’t help but note an underlying sense of anticipation, even excitement in the others as they gathered around the kitchen table.  There seemed to be an animated buzz in their murmured conversation with each other, to which he was not privy, being essentially ignored as was the norm.  Still, there didn’t seem to be the same purposeful hostility toward him as usual.

Even Thomas, who had continued to be the most demanding of them all, seemed much less so that morning when they were outside together, even lending Jared a hand in getting his assigned tasks done more quickly than usual.  That afternoon when back under Belle’s supervision, she instructed him not to clean the basement that day, that she would take care of it, and indeed not to go down there at all.  As he worked sweeping, vacuuming, dusting, polishing and putting everything else in order on the first floor, he noticed both Edward and Belle going up and down into the basement a number of times.

At the slaves’ dinner that night, after the Lady had been served and had completed her own in the dining room and retired back upstairs, there was a much more subdued even nervous air in the kitchen.  Thomas, usually the heartiest of eaters given his size and the physical nature of his work, ate very sparingly and left well before the others.  As Jared finished cleaning up after they were all done and prepared to begin his other evening chores, Edward approached and told him to leave Thomas and his room alone that night.  Mystified, he went about his night time duties of cleaning and straightening up the other slaves’ rooms, making their beds, and taking their laundry to be done.  Around 10 o’clock, just as he was finishing washing, drying and folding the various clothes, doing what ironing needed to be done, and carefully separating out each of their underwear, Edward again came up to him and simply commanded “Come with me”.  He then led him down into the basement.

Arriving at the bottom of the stairs Jared was surprised to find Thomas standing alone and unmoving in the center of the room.  Neither Edward nor Thomas said anything as Edward continued on to the side of the room, and assuming that he should, Jared followed.  They all remained standing in their spots in silence as if waiting, for what Jared had no idea, as Thomas just stared ahead with a glazed look in his eyes.

They stood quietly as such for over fifteen minutes before the door above opened and Deanna glided majestically down the stairs.  She greeted Edward and Thomas warmly, who both bowed their heads and answered reverently “My Lady” in response.  She remained several feet from Thomas, regarding him solemnly for over a minute before smiling and stating  “It’s been too long, Thomas.”

He smiled in return. “Yes, My Lady.”

She nodded.

“Strip.” she then ordered.

Thomas hastened to obey as Edward come to collect his discarded clothes, which he then handed to Jared to fold and place away.  In less than a minute Thomas was fully naked, unable to hide his growing emotion as his manhood rose and extended forward before the Lady’s discerning gaze.  She lingered a few more moments to allow him to enjoy his tumescence, knowing that it likely wouldn’t be long after he was fully bound and trussed and beginning the struggles of his coming ordeal that this stiffened appendage would wilt.

“Lie down on the floor, Thomas.” she finally continued, and he quickly complied.  She went over to take up the hand held control of the winch above him, turning it on and bringing down four chains from the ceiling that Edward had prepared to her specifications earlier in the day.  Attached to the end of each chain were padded leather cuffs.  The larger ones she now strapped around Thomas’ ankles, and then the other smaller two around his wrists, positioning these so that he could grip with his hands the chains above.  She then reversed the direction on the winch controls, pulling him up and about two feet off the floor in a semi jack-knifed pose.

Each of the chains had their own independent control and she played around with these until his upper body was slightly higher than his legs, leaving his backside as the lowest point, directly hovering above the floor.  She then nodded to Edward who immediately went over to get a previously unnoticed item lying on top of the cage in the corner.  It was an 18 inch diameter flat griddle, which he brought over and placed on the floor directly below Thomas’ behind.  It was connected by a long extension cord to a wall outlet and the Lady proceeded to turn it on to its highest setting.  Within a minute it was glowing red.

Strung up as he was, Thomas was unable to see what happening below him so the Lady now explained it all.

“You’re high enough up Thomas that I don’t think you’ll be feeling the heat much at first, but I suspect that after a while it just might become a bit more toasty warm.  If it does, and even becomes a tad uncomfortable, you can always pull yourself up with your hands on the chains above.  By a good 10 more inches off the floor I would estimate.  That should allow your lovely tush to cool off a bit should it need to.”  She paused a moment before continuing.  “How long and how often you do that of course will be completely up to you.”  She smiled again.  “You do understand, don’t you?”

“Yes, My Lady.” he replied in a low voice.

“Excellent.” she cooed.  “Let’s tuck you in then for the rest of the night.”  She turned and took the leather hood that Edward was also holding for her and placed it over his head.  It fit completely over his face and was secured by a collar which she strapped, not too tightly, around his neck.  The only openings were for his mouth and his nostrils.  His eyes were covered and there was padding inside pressed tightly against his ears to effectively cut off all but the very loudest of sounds.

“Sweet dreams, Thomas” the Lady murmured as she finished with the hood, although she was sure that he couldn’t hear.  Careful not to touch him, she placed her hand just below his butt, keeping it there for about a minute to assure herself that while the spot was warm, it wasn’t hot.  She then walked over to the raised platform with her easy chair and stepped up, and then sat down regally to watch.

For the next 30 minutes Thomas hung motionless two feet above the glowing hot plate.  At that point though he began to stir slightly and sway the limited amount the chains would allow.  After about 10 minutes of such fidgeting he finally gripped tighter the chains above his wrists and pulled himself up, his arms flexed at the elbows with his legs extending out some away from him.  He held himself as such for about 15 minutes before his arms began to give way and he slowly lowered himself into his original position.

As if satisfied by all this, Deanna rose from her chair and walked toward the stairs.  Pausing at the bottom step she faced Edward.  “Attend me in my room in five minutes, Edward.”

“Yes My Lady.” he replied as she went up.  He then turned to Jared, whose presence was now being acknowledged for the first time since they had come down.  “We usually have two of us in shifts watch over Thomas through the night when he is bound.  But the Lady has instructed that you tend to him alone tonight.”  Edward’s tone strongly suggested that he wasn’t pleased with this.  “His safe word, which he has never used, is ‘Mercy’.  Should he utter it you are to release him immediately and render whatever aid he needs before coming to get me.”  He stopped a moment for emphasis.  “Of even more importance, if you sense in any way at any time during the night that Thomas is in danger you must also unbind him.  He will likely not be happy or thank you for that but his safety, not his or anyone’s regard, is your only concern.”  Without another word Edward turned and departed up the steps to attend to his Lady, leaving Jared behind alone to begin his night of guardianship.

In the darkness and silence imposed by the hood Thomas quickly drifted into the trance like state that sustained and fueled him through all of his bindings.  He never knew how long the lady remained to observe, but he liked to believe that she was always there, and he felt a stirring in his loins once again as he imagined her being enjoyably entertained as she watched him struggle and suffer for her amusement.  He realized and accepted that others watched as well, although he was not happy that the cursed Jared had been allowed to see him in this state.  But if that was the Lady’s will then he could not question.  He also understood that it was unreasonable to expect that she would spend the whole night of his binding with him, but as he could never know just when she might be present, he would constantly strive to never give cause to disappoint.

As he hung down initially Thomas noted very little strain on his arms and legs.  He felt that he could hang this way indefinitely with very little effort, perhaps for even the whole night.  He was actually somewhat disappointed in the simplicity of this night’s binding, with its seeming lack of challenge and potential struggle.  But if this was the Lady’s desire he would have no choice but to abide.

He settled into his own special sub space, savoring the sensations of his stretched extremities and the subtle and pleasant warmth on his backside.  After some immeasurable amount of time however, he began to feel some mild prickling on his rear.  When the prickles began to increase he started to squirm and sway, and when after some more time that didn’t provide much relief he decided to take up his Lady’s offer of a respite.  Gripping the chains above his wrists more firmly he pulled himself up until his arms were fully flexed.  The prickles rapidly subsided, but he held himself in this position for much longer than was necessary, enjoying the exercise that it provided.  At length he slowly let himself back down to the fully extended and more restful posture.

This time though the prickling seemed to come much more quickly, and before too long became even more intense.  He didn’t wait as long to pull himself up once again, and though the sensation took a bit longer to fade, he didn’t hold himself up as long either, sensing that he might need to begin to conserve his strength.  Letting himself down the second time the prickling restarted within minutes, but he opted to try to persevere through it now as long as he could.  The prickling slowly progressed to a very irritating buzz, reaching a point where he felt that he had to again pull himself up and away.

It now took quite a while for the buzzing to stop, although there remained an uncomfortable twitching in his nether cheeks.  He tried to hold himself up as long as possible but his arms were growing increasingly fatigued, and finally they seemed to ache more than the pain in his posterior, and he let himself down once again.

Almost immediately the buzzing returned but his arms were too tired to pull himself up right away.  The buzz worsened, almost as if a swarm of bees were crawling over his rear and stinging him at will.  Soon it seemed like a constant sizzle.  He had to give his arms more time to recover but as he did so he began to feel that his buttocks was truly on fire.  He finally could take no more and, gritting his teeth and gathering his strength, he agonizingly inched himself up to the fully flexed position again.

The blaze in his butt now seemed to take forever to bank enough to become tolerable, but he wasn’t sure how long he could actually hold himself up this time.  Already his biceps were groaning, but he just knew that he could not let himself slip down again to that scorching depth. Thomas had never before contemplated or had even conceived in any of his bindings that he would ever permit himself to use his safe word.  He had always known that doing so would be a failure of will that would call into question his very sense of self.  He understood that once used he could never allow himself to be bound again.  The shame would be too great, and he would never be the same.  He frantically wondered how much longer this binding would last.  And could he last through it.  His arm muscles now shrieked with agony but he knew that if he collapsed back down into that inferno below he would likely have no choice but to succumb and cry for ‘Mercy’.  He couldn’t give up.  He had to somehow make it through to the end.  He just had to.  He fought now to hold himself up with every last vestige of his strength.

********

From the moment that he had been left alone with Thomas to begin his watch Jared had been mesmerized as the event unfolded.  He had no idea how long Deanna intended to keep Thomas bound like this, but Edward had indicated that previous ones had lasted through the entire night.  While he certainly didn’t think that Thomas was very comfortable, it certainly didn’t appear as if he was in any real distress.  He would hang fully down for about 30 minutes and then pull himself up for about ten or fifteen with seemingly little undue effort.  As Jared had been given no prohibition against it, and it was beginning to look to be a very long and probably boring night, he finally made his way over to sit on the small wooden stool from which to continue his vigil.

As the night wore on he did begin to notice that the intervals between Thomas hanging down and those holding himself up were getting shorter, particularly the ones hanging fully down.  He also appeared to be starting to have to work much harder to keep himself up.  The hot plate, though glowing red throughout, did not seem to be any different or changing at all, but clearly now as the night progressed Thomas was definitely trying to spend less and less time hung over it.

As the clock on the wall approached 4am Jared heard the first moans, and was surprised that the last fully hanging interval had only lasted about three minutes before Thomas struggled, groaning loudly, to pull himself up again.  This was definitely a significant change and Jared felt that he needed to go over to get a closer look.  As he neared his eyes widened in alarm.  From across the room it hadn’t been evident but up close Jared now saw that Thomas’ entire behind was not only a deep red, but was blistering in multiple places, some of them already quite large.  Jared knew that the redness alone was a first degree burn, like a bad sunburn, but the blisters were second degree burns that were much more dangerous and painful.  He looked further up and saw that Thomas’ arms were trembling as he was clearly straining to hold himself up.

As an athlete Jared knew the difference between pain and injury, and this had clearly crossed that line.  With the former you expected yourself to be a hero and work through, but with the latter you would be a fool to do so.  Why didn’t Thomas realize this?  Why didn’t he use his safe word as he was now so obviously in distress?  Maybe he didn’t realize how dire the situation had become.  This was why Jared had been left to watch.  To protect Thomas from danger, even from himself.  He had to release him immediately.

As he looked for the winch control to bring Thomas down he heard him groan even louder as he tried to jerk himself up even higher.  Instinctively Jared suddenly understood that if he released him now, before the allotted time, Thomas would view it not only as a defeat, even if he hadn’t brought it on himself, but worse, that someone else, his despised slave, had judged him too weak to endure.  Jared knew that this would be a bitter, even impossible, pill for Thomas to swallow.  But something had to be done. And right away.

Jared looked down at the glowing griddle.  In small exposures, at the two foot level above the floor that Thomas hung when fully down, the heat didn’t seem that pronounced.  But it has been the prolonged and ongoing exposure that has done the damage, essentially being a slow roasting.  It had been a major miscalculation in conception.  But maybe that was also a solution.  Jared made his decision.  He reached down and turned the temperature gauge on the griddle from the highest setting to the lowest.  Within a minute the bright red glow of the plate faded to a dull black.  He could barely feel any heat on his hand now at the two foot height, but perhaps it would be enough that Thomas would feel it still, but be better able to tolerate it without further damage.  At that point, with a guttural grunt, Thomas’ grip slipped and his spent arms gave way and he dropped  in free fall until the chains brought him to a sudden stop.

Hanging down limply like a slaughtered animal carcass, Thomas tried to steel himself as best he could for the onslaught of fire to follow.  To his surprise and relief, though his backside still smoldered with pain, it seemed no more so now than when he was holding himself up.  He could still feel warmth emanating from below but it no longer seared.  Maybe he was finally growing tolerant to it.  Maybe whatever reserves of strength he had left were helping him now withstand the worst.  Whatever the reason he knew he had no further strength left to pull himself up again any time soon.  His hands were rubbed raw from gripping the chains so tightly for so long and his arms quivered with exhaustion.  But his bottom, though still tingling, no longer seemed to be sending out increasing waves of unbearable torment.

Jared watched closely for signs of ongoing peril, and was relieved to note that Thomas’ moans had ceased, and his breathing had gone from ragged to regular, and finally to calm.  He no longer made any attempt to pull himself up, seeming content now to just hang.  Jared again put his own hand out an inch below Thomas’ buttocks.  Yes, he could still feel a minuscule amount of warmth from the griddle two feet below, but almost more seemed to be coming from Thomas’ bottom an inch above.  His backside was entirely red, and the blisters still looked angry and mean, but they didn’t appear to be getting any bigger or worse, and Thomas appeared to be almost asleep now as he hung.  Jared brought the stool over to sit closer and better guard against any further mishaps.

********

Thomas barely moved as the next few hours wound away, and Jared  had to fight to not nod off himself  as the morning approached.  At precisely 7:30 the door above opened and, to his relief, Deanna strode down with Edward right behind.  Jared hopped off the stool and took a few steps away.  Deanna stopped at the bottom of the stairs and stared long and hard at her hanging slave.  Seemingly satisfied she walked forward to him but as she got near she looked down and saw the dully black hot plate with the lowered setting.  She whirled to glare venomously at Jared.

“You dared ...” she hissed incredulously.

“My Lady.”  Edward interjected urgently, and she turned to follow where his attention was now riveted.  Her eyes widened in shock and dismay as they encountered Thomas’ ravaged bottom.

“Oh no ... Thomas.” she moaned as she immediately yanked the hot plate out from under, which Edward then turned off and took away.  She grabbed the winch control and lowered him down, which produced a groan from him as his buttocks came in contact with the floor.  She rapidly brought his arms and legs all the way down, then knelt by him to help turn him onto his side as Edward removed the wrist and ankle cuffs.  She moved quickly to remove his hood.

“Thank you, My Lady.” he croaked hoarsely.

“No, please, Thomas, don’t ...not now.” she implored.  She looked back to his tortured rear.  One of the larger blister had broken on contact with the floor and was seeping, and she looked helplessly up at Edward before addressing Thomas once again.  “Edward is going to help you upstairs to your room, Thomas, and take care of this.  You just rest today.  No work for you at all until you’re able.  And I’ll be the judge of when that will be.”  Not knowing what else to say or do, her eyes swept the room, narrowing accusingly as they briefly touched on Jared standing off to the side against the wall.  But she was even more reproaching of herself, and unsure of how not to make things worse, she stood up.  “I’ll be up in my room if you need me, Edward ... For anything.”   Rattled and disconcerted she made her way over to the stairs, and somewhat unsteadily, hurriedly went up.

Edward now shifted over to kneel by Thomas’ back, putting his hand on him to hold him down as he had tried to get up.  “Stay down a moment, Thomas, while I take a better look at this.”  He was very unhappy by what he saw.  “What am I supposed to do for this?” he muttered to himself.

“Excuse me Sir.” Jared spoke up, having carefully walked over after Deanna had left.  “I’ve had some experience with ... conditions like this,”   He clearly didn’t want to say the word ‘burns’ for Thomas’ sake.  “And dressing it with a cream called Silvadene is generally the best treatment.  You can get it in any drug store.”

Edward looked up sharply and in exasperation, but then his anxiety eased.  At least somebody had an idea of how to proceed.  “Michael hasn’t left for work yet.  Go up and tell him I want him to take you into town to buy whatever you need.  He has money.  I’ll help Thomas to his room.  Meet us there as soon as you get back.”

“Yes Sir.”  Jared rushed up the stairs, found Michael and quickly explained what Edward had ordered.  They immediately went to the car to make the fifteen minute drive to the small local town.  Along the way Michael quizzed him relentlessly about what had occurred.

“How could you possibly have let this happen?” Michael snarled after Jared had explained.  “You should have released him as soon as you knew.  That’s what any of the rest of us would have done.”  Jared had no answer to this as he was already silently berating himself for not having discovered the danger sooner.  After purchasing the necessary medicines and supplies at the pharmacy they rode home in stony silence.

Arriving back at the manor Jared hurried to Thomas’ room.  He found him lying face down on his bed, now wearing a shirt but with only a cool wet towel covering his behind.  Edward, his own backside still smarting from his own previously promised punishment that had been administered to him during the night, stood rather than sat next to the bed.  Taking the offered supplies from Jared he removed the towel fully exposing the injured rump.  It was still a vivid red, and more than a few of the blisters had now broken and were weeping, though others including two larger ones remained intact.   Jared’s heart sank further at this stark visual evidence of his abject failure.  If only there was something he could do, even as he knew that there was not.  He looked back up and saw that Edward appeared unsure of how to proceed.

“If I may Sir.” Jared offered quietly.  “I would leave the unbroken blisters alone.  They’ll probably break eventually but right now they’re the best sterile dressing he could have.  We should cover the whole area with the Silvadene and bandage any open areas.”

Edward nodded and began carefully applying the medicinal cream.  He then covered and bandaged with non stick gauze the opened blisters.  When he was done he turned back to Jared.

“You go get some sleep now.” he said in a flat voice.  “There’s no work to be done outside today, and Belle won’t need your services this afternoon either.”

“As you wish, Sir.”  When Edward said no more, Jared turned to go.

“Jared.”  Thomas called as he reached the door.

Jared was startled as he stopped and turned back.  It was the first time since the very first day that anyone had called him by name.

“Yes Sir?” he answered tentatively.

Thomas had turned onto his side to face him.  “Edward has told me everything about last night ...” he started.  “I just want to say”  he paused again.   “... Thank you ... For all of it.”

Jared gave a small nod.  “Sir.” was all he could manage to say as he once again turned and, as previously ordered, left to go alone to his room.     

        

   

    

This is the 9th part of a 12 part tale of a Lady and her stable of slaves

9.  Bi Ways

After getting back to his room, Jared was too keyed up to immediately fall asleep.  Despite Thomas’ unexpected and inexplicably kind words he knew he had been dismally derelict in his actions the previous evening and that the others, as Michael had already declared, would believe him so as well.  More crushing still had been Deanna’s damning reaction.  This had been the first time since his return that she had specifically given him a task, and not just any task, but one to safeguard the well being of another of her slaves.  And he had failed miserably, just as he had failed her in so many ways before.  He had been trying so hard since he had chosen to remain to prove himself to her, that he could be what she wanted and needed him to be.  And when he had finally been given the simplest of opportunities he had totally dropped the ball.  He began to seriously consider whether the time had finally come for him to give them all, most especially Deanna, what they all had made clear they wanted most from him:  To leave.  Before anyone else was hurt.  Thoroughly depressed, but even more thoroughly weary, he finally slipped into a fitful sleep.

He woke up with a start and saw on his clock that it was just before 5 PM.  He had been given the morning and the afternoon off, but no one had said anything about his evening duties.  Almost by rote he crawled off his mattress and gathered himself together, wondering if this was all moot anyway as it all would likely be coming to an end very soon.  He walked down the hall slowly, preparing himself to meet the others and their further condemnations.

Entering the kitchen he found only Abel there, working furiously over the stove.  Abel looked up, saw Jared, and smiled.

“Hey Jared.  Did you get enough sleep?”

Startled once again by the use of his name, and even more so by the question that had followed, Jared hesitated.  “... Ah ... Yes Sir.” he finally answered.

Abel lowered his voice as if conspiratorially.  “You know Jared, when we’re working alone together you can call me Abel.”  His smile then broadened even more.  “And I have it on the very best authority that Belle feels the same way too.  What do you say?”

Now completely disconcerted Jared didn’t know what to say.  He stammered a moment before responding, “Um ... okay ... um ... Abel.”

“Good.”  Abel’s smile now turned to a small frown.  “I’m working hard on making something very special for the Lady for her dinner tonight.  She didn’t eat breakfast or lunch and hasn’t come downstairs at all since this morning.  Edward had to convince her to eat dinner and she finally agreed, but she wants it served up in her room.”  He paused to put a pot of something onto another burner.  “Do you think you can start cutting up the vegetables for our dinner later.  They’re over there on the table.”

“Of course, Sir ... Abel.”  Jared replied, still totally bewildered.  As he made his way over toward the kitchen table he also noticed for the first time that a chair and a small side table had been placed in his usual corner.  None of this was making any sense to him.  What was going on?  And why?

Once Jared had left Thomas’ room as ordered that morning, Thomas had made it explicitly clear to Edward, and Edward had related it faithfully to the others, that had Jared cut him down before his ordeal had ended, his spirit, and psyche, would have been far more damaged than his hind quarters had been.  He was truly grateful that Jared had allowed him to see his binding to its proper end.  That Jared had assured that it continue more safely was the role that the Lady had assigned him, and Thomas had no complaints with that.  As far as Thomas was concerned Jared had done his duty perfectly, which had allowed Thomas to perform his without failure as well.

After the Lady had been served her special dinner in her room, and Jared, as requested, had helped Abel prepare the evening meal for the rest, the others including Thomas all arrived in the kitchen.  On Edward’s instructions Thomas had brought a large pillow to sit on, but he couldn’t help wincing a bit as he gingerly sat down.  They all acknowledged Jared, everyone but Edward calling him by name, but even Edward seemed more congenial to him than usual.  He wasn’t invited to the table with them, but Abel made sure, with no objections from anyone, that he had a plateful to eat at the same time as the rest of them.  And he was now able to sit in a chair with a small table in his corner as well.

When finished he did proceed on to his usual evening clean up chores, but now without the frequent caustic comments from the others.  Through Edward, the Lady had directed that Thomas was not to work until he was fully healed, much to Thomas’ displeasure, grumbling that this ‘vacation’ was unnecessary.  Edward indicated to him however that his slave could readily take care of any grounds work that needed to be done.  Thomas later took Jared aside and assured him that any of the heavier work outside could certainly wait a week or two for when he got back. 

Jared was clearly taken aback by the changed attitude towards him by almost all of the others.  He still felt guilty about what he believed had been an overly delayed recognition on his part of Thomas’ danger.  The rest however all seemed to feel otherwise, for which he was somewhat thankful.  He wondered though how long this would all continue, and more importantly  what Deanna actually thought.  The final very nice touch to the day came when he finally retired to his room for the night and found a pillow on his mattress.

********

Deanna spent the next two days secluded in her rooms on the second floor, continually castigating herself for being so careless in her binding of Thomas.  And she felt even more ashamed that she had not contributed to his immediate care afterwards, but had instead rushed away in embarrassment and horror.  Despite Edward’s admonitions that none of them had recognized the potential danger beforehand, and that by her ordered precautions and instructions Jared had been able to limit the damage, she was still finding it difficult to forgive herself.  By her own will and desire SHE was the one in charge, and so she had to have the responsibility for the care and well being of those in her thrall.  She began to fear that she might be starting to lose them.  That Jared proved to be the one to salvage the situation, and was being considered as something of a hero by the others, not only rankled but made her feel even more the villain.  When he sensed this, Edward had sought to allay these concerns and reassure her that all of them were still totally devoted to her.  But deep inside her, what she wanted, what she always needed, was to continue to be adored by them as well.  She had to do something to bring that back.

She realized with a start that since Jared had entered the scene she had not partaken in any truly intimate relations with any of them.  She had just not had the desire or inclination.  All of her attentions had been focused on convincing Jared that she wanted him gone.  While she knew that each of her slaves fully understood that any such interactions with her could only be at her whim and at the time and place of her choosing, it was still undeniably a very important and necessary part of what she had created and needed to continue with them.  Not only to rekindle that very delightful spark and need, but also, she smiled inwardly to herself, to begin to enjoy the fervor of that fire once again.  She resolved to start summoning them back to her bedroom privately, one at a time.  And it wouldn’t hurt that Jared would see in another more significant way something dear that he would never again be allowed to have.

To signal this to them all in the most dramatic way that she could devise, Deanna decided that the first such interaction would be one that she had been contemplating for some time but had withheld.  Now she concluded that the time and circumstance was just right.  The next day she made a point of approaching Belle as the maid was cleaning her office.

“Good afternoon, Belle.”

“My Lady.”  Belle curtseyed.

“We haven’t chatted together and enjoyed each other’s company in quite a while, have we.” the Lady declared.

“Only as My Lady wishes.”  Belle replied quietly.

“Well I believe that I do so wish,” she continued, “but now may not be the appropriate time and place.”  She paused as if considering.  “I think that tomorrow early afternoon I would like Abel to make a very special dinner for us, and that you then get yourself all dressed up, maybe in that lovely silver and black dress we got for you, and then we can share that dinner together, you and I, in candlelight in the evening.”

Belle stood there staggered and speechless.  Deanna smiled, and went on.  “And then when we’re done eating I think I’d like you to come up to my room with me.  What do you say?”

Belle almost dropped to the floor.  “It would be an honor, My Lady.” she gushed.

Deanna laughed.  “Oh it won’t be about honor, Belle.  It will be about fun.  And lust.  For both of us.”

“Whatever My Lady desires.”

“I think it’s what we both desire, Belle.”  Deanna winked and smiled broadly again and then turned and left, leaving a barely able to stand Belle behind to try to complete her chores.

The news spread quickly through the manor to everyone’s excitement.  Even Jared was included when Edward took him aside that evening and told him to cut short his outside work the next morning and to help Abel with all the dinner preparations so that Belle could more quickly go to get herself ready for her evening.

When Jared arrived in the kitchen in mid morning the next day he found Abel intensely at work first making lunch for the Lady, and then for the rest of them, before then directing his attention fully on the far more important evening fare.  He set Jared to cleaning all the luncheon dishes , pots and pans, and then to cleaning and setting up the dining room with the lace tablecloth, fine china and cutlery, crystal glasses and flutes, and the ordered candles.  He then carefully instructed him on how to warm and put the finishing touches on the dinner just before it was to be served, as Abel himself would not be available to do so at that time.

Around 4 PM Abel, efficient as ever, declared that everything was as ready as it could be and he retired to his room so that Belle could begin her own preparations.  He surprised Jared by asking him to accompany him.

“I don’t think I can do this, Jared.” Belle whimpered as she closed the door behind them.  “What if I completely mess everything up?”

Jared saw what a complete bundle of nerves Belle was, as compared to the highly structured Abel a few moments before.  He also saw how young and vulnerable she appeared, and so obviously terrified at not being able to meet her Lady’s expectations.  Belle, and Abel, had always been kind to him, even in the darkest days at the beginning.  He had a sudden strong desire to help her however he could to get through this.

“Of course you can, Belle.” he insisted forcefully.  He had another sudden inspiration.  “Just remember, the Lady is the one trying to woo and seduce YOU.  She’s the one who’s going to be nervous.”

Deep down inside Belle knew that this was highly unlikely, but the thought helped to calm her a bit.

“Why don’t I go draw you a nice hot bath to get you started.” Jared continued.

Belle demurely assented and Jared went over to the bathroom across the hall from her room and began to fill the tub there, adding a liberal amount of the scented bath beads he found on the side.  Minutes later Belle came in wearing her terry cloth robe, which he helped her to remove, and then assisted her into the bath.  Leaving her to soak and soothe he retreated back to her room to wait.

As he sat there Jared couldn’t help but ruminate about what was going to happen that night.  In all of his time at the manor thus far he had come to recognize just how 24/7 and all encompassing a dominance and submission household and environment Deanna had developed here, and how all of the individuals involved had totally embraced it.  But what he had not seen until this point had been any significant sexual interactions among them with Deanna, even though it had been hinted at often, if not explicitly described in Edward’s blog.  Now that he could actually see it happening he had to admit to a certain degree of jealousy, and even more hurt.

Still, he understood, he had been the one who had walked out on her, unable then to accept her terms for their continued relationship.  After that she of course had every right to seek and meet her needs elsewhere with whomever, and with however many others that she desired.  Especially with those who enthusiastically did submit to those terms.  That he now wished more than anything in the world to be allowed to so submit to her will as well, and was being implacably denied, only made him more morose and even more envious of the others.  He wondered if such events as those tonight, and more likely with the others in the future, were her way of demonstrating to him just how little or no consequence he now was in her life.  Or whether it was just her living her new life as she so obviously desired, with no thought to him at all.  Either way it was another mountain for him to climb to try to prove himself to her, hoping to be able to scale it high enough so that he might once again be allowed the opportunity to acknowledge some place in her life by straining forward to at least kiss her foot.

Before long Belle returned to the room, her robe back on and her washed hair wrapped in a towel.  She sat down in front of the small mirrored vanity that the Lady had allowed her to have, and pulled out a portable hair dryer from the bottom drawer.

“Let me do that for you, Ma’am.” Jared said rising from his chair, and purposefully using the honorific.  He felt that Belle ought to be pampered and made to feel special in preparation for her evening.

Belle looked up, both surprised and delighted.  “Sure Jared, I’d love that.”  She handed the dryer to him and unwrapped the towel around her hair and Jared commenced to blow her hair dry.  Once he was satisfied that it was no longer damp he picked up a comb from the vanity, combed out any tangles, and then took up a hairbrush and for the next fifteen minutes brushed her hair with long even strokes until it hung down perfectly to her shoulders.

For obvious reasons Belle did not regularly color her nails but she really wanted to do so this night.  She opened up the rose petal pink nail  polish she had been keeping for special occasions, but as she went to apply it to her fingernails she still couldn’t keep her hand from shaking slightly.

“Please let me help you with that as well, Ma’am.”  Jared quickly offered.

“That would be wonderful Jared but I also need to do my toenails.”

Jared smiled.  “That’s always been my specialty, Ma’am.”

Belle sighed.  “Thank you Jared.  I was so afraid I was going to muck them all up.”

She sat back in her chair and offered her first hand to him.  Though usually unpolished Belle always kept all of her nails in otherwise perfect condition.  Within minutes Jared had expertly applied the pink polish to that hand and proceeded on to complete the second.  He then went over to put a pillow on a small stool she had in the corner, brought it back and had her lift and rest her legs upon it.  Placing cotton balls between each of her toes he then got down on his knees to begin to paint his masterpiece.

As he had done so many times before, so many years ago for Deanna, Jared applied the polish to each of Belle’s toes with sure even strokes, never once straying from a nail.  Belle felt as if she was in heaven.  She had never even fantasized that someone would ever do anything like this for her.  It made her feel so treasured, and perhaps even desirable.  When Jared was done she just stared longingly at her now magnificent toenails as they dried.

But time continued on and Belle knew that she had to start to get dressed.  After Jared had removed the cotton from between her toes she asked him to go to make the final preparations for the dinner that Abel had made.  After he left, she rose, took off her robe and began the process.  The first item she put on was her thong, which she had specially reinforced in the front to help contain any unwanted expansion there.  Since she was not especially well endowed above she used a push up bra to better accentuate that area, then added a slip before stepping into the gorgeous dress the Lady had bought for her.  It was a sleek but finely ruffled material that had a black background with silver highlights throughout that seemed to shimmer against the dark.  It was held up by thin bands over her outer shoulders, v-ing down to just above her breasts, leaving her neck and upper chest invitingly bare as was the top half of her back.  The dress gathered slimly at her waist and then fell softly to below her knees.  Not wanting to use panty hose or stockings she just put on some simple peds before placing her feet in the three inch high heels the Lady had also purchased for her.

She finally sat down in front of the mirror to apply her makeup for the evening.  She had always believed that she looked her best when being as natural as possible, using only the slightest amount of cosmetic.  She added a bit of eye liner and the smallest touch of eye shade above.  A hint of blush on her cheeks and finally a rose colored lipstick that served to only more fully accentuate the natural color of her lips.  She then threaded her pierced ears with a pair of dangling pearl earrings, the only earrings she owned , and finished by wrapping a silver chain with a heart shaped pendant hanging down above the V of her dress.  Just as she finished there was a knock on her door.

Rising from her chair, her preparation now complete, she opened the door to find Jared standing there, as he had promised her to return after he had finished in the kitchen.  His mouth dropped open upon seeing her.

“Ma’am ... you’re absolutely stunning.” he sincerely exclaimed without the slightest hint of exaggeration.  Belle dipped her head with a smile of gratitude.  A few moments later Edward, who had been out doing errands for the Lady much of the day, arrived.  He beamed his approval as well.

“The Lady is waiting in the dining room.” he announced formally.  “And she has requested that I escort Miss Belle down to her.”  He put his elbow up for her to place her hand upon and they started for the hall.  Before reaching the door Edward turned toward Jared.  “Go and get yourself ready.”  Jared nodded and followed them out, hurrying then to his own room as Edward and Belle made their way to the Lady.

Deanna was sitting at the dining table in the candle lit room when Edward and Belle entered.  She immediately rose to approach them.

“Belle.” she smiled with genuine sincerity.  “You look exquisite.”

While Jared’s sentiments and Edward’s approval had been heartwarming and gratifying, hearing those words from her Lady actually made Belle’s knees buckle.  She caught herself but couldn’t stop her deep blush.  “Thank you, My Lady.” she replied softly.

“Oh, for tonight Belle it’s not My Lady.  It’s D.  Belle and D.  Now let’s sit ourselves down to start the feast that Abel has prepared for us and enjoy each other’s company and our evening together.”

With that Deanna actually guided Belle over to one of the table settings and pulled out her chair for her to sit.  Edward then performed the same service for her.  “Have some wine sent out for us, Edward.” she then said to him when she was settled.  He bowed and immediately left to do as she bid.

A few moments later Jared, dressed in a formal half frock coat over a white ruffled shirt and a black bow tie with black trousers and shoes, entered carrying a chilled bottle of Prosecco, the Lady’s favorite, and a bucket of ice.  Earlier in the day Deanna had instructed Edward that he was to have Jared formally serve and wait on them that evening, and Edward had spent the afternoon out purchasing the appropriate clothing for him to wear in that role.

After popping the cork on the sparkling Italian wine Jared poured a glass full for both of the ladies.  Belle smiled appreciatively at him and actually felt his being there helped to calm her nerves.  Deanna ignored him, but raised her glass to toast Belle, and the lovely evening she was sure they were going to share together.

Jared then began to serve the dinner.  The appetizer was a plate of baked clams oreganato.  This was followed by a sublime vichysoise and a salad of chopped endive, baby romaine, pecans, calamera olives and feta cheese, all dressed in a wine vinaigrette with just a touch of raspberry.  The main course was a wild Alaskan sockeye salmon fillet, baked in a filo pastry, and topped with a thin coating of a rosemary and dill cream sauce.  This was accompanied by Parmesan crusted asparagus.

Jared served every course in silence, removing completed plates and bowls, bringing in new ones with each new course, and making sure the crystal flutes were always kept filled with more Prosecco.  Belle and D chatted and laughed engagingly throughout.  While not a polished conversationalist, Belle was however an avid reader and had devoured and loved all of the Lady’s books.  Her innate shyness and inhibitions, particularly in her Lady’s presence, were somewhat diminished by the sparkling wine, and she found herself discussing the Lady’s various works in depth with the actual author.  For her part Deanna was delighted with the questions and insights that Belle offered.  It was so refreshing to discuss her writings with a fan, from a fan’s perspective, rather than from a purely analytic literary one as she usually did with Edward, or from a commercial popularity standpoint as with Michael.  When Jared brought out the homemade wild berry torte for their dessert, over two hours had flown by, and just as they were emptying their second bottle of Prosecco.

After each had finished their torte and the tea each had ordered, Deanna looked over at Belle.  “I’ve had a thoroughly lovely time dining with you tonight Belle, and please convey later my compliments to the chef as always.  But now I’d like very much to continue our conversation together in a more private setting, upstairs.”

Belle dipped her head and blushed once again.  “Whatever you wish ... D”

“Yes ... indeed.”  Deanna agreed as she rose, stepped over to pull Belle’s chair out, offered her hand to help her up, and continued holding it as she led her to, and then up the stairs to her bedroom on the second floor.  Entering the room they also found it candle lit, just as the Lady had instructed Edward to have it.  She guided Belle over to the foot of her bed, stopping there.

“I’d like yo to wait for me here for a few moments, Belle, while I go get a bit more comfortable.  And please don’t turn around when I return.”

Belle nodded, almost too afraid to speak.  Deanna retreated to her bathroom, and re emerged a few minutes later.  As commanded, Belle did not turn around as she heard her Lady approach her from behind.  She felt a hand gently sweep her hair to one side, and the Lady’s lips next to her ear.

“You look so delicious, Belle,” Deanna whispered huskily, “and you’re all mine.”  She then nuzzled and nibbled at Belle’s earlobe, nipping it a bit more sharply after a minute, feeling Belle’s knees slightly give way again before steadying.  She then moved her lips and tongue softly down the side and to the back of Belle’s neck, planting little kisses along the way.  Her arms wrapped around, and her hands lightly ran up and down the front of Belle’s dress, before finally returning to the back to unclasp and unzipper it, then helping it fall slowly in a jumble at Belle’s feet.  She undid Belle’s bra and let it drop to the floor as well.  She let her fingers play with Belle’s breasts, pinching her nipples slightly every now and then.  She pressed her own body up against Belle’s back, who became acutely aware that the Lady’s breasts were bare as well as they pressed and rubbed against her.

Deanna’s hands now roamed at will along the entire front of Belle’s body, as her mouth and lips moved down her upper back, leaving little licks as they progressed.  Her hands found and fondled the front of Belle’s thong, which bulged and strained forward, pulling the back strap between Belle’s buttocks cheeks ever tighter.  Belle moaned helplessly as the Lady chuckled sensually in response, both of them continuing to sway, embraced tightly as such together.  Finally the Lady pushed forward, guiding Belle face down onto the bed.

Deanna stood up and away from the prone Belle for a moment as she retrieved an item that she had previously placed under a towel at the end of her bed.  After putting it into place she bent forward to kiss the small of Belle’s back, then licked her way up with her tongue again to the back of Belle’s neck and to her ear, whispering as she got there, “I said that you’re all mine Belle, and now I’m going to make that complete.”

She lifted off her again and ran her fingers lightly down Belle’s flanks until they entwined with the straps of her thong.  Using them she pulled Belle’s bottom upward and then guided the thong down and completely off.  She then bade Belle to remain kneeling, head bent forward on to the bed, with her posterior up and scrumptiously inviting in the air.

Deanna stood behind her at the foot of the bed, her strap on dildo that she had just put in the harness she had been wearing, jutting forward in front of her.  Knowing that this would be Belle’s first time she had purchased  a slender one, also making sure that it was one of the double ended ones with a shorter curved portion that fitted up into her own vault.  As she applied a liberal amount of lubricant to the longer end, and then to Belle’s backside crack, she softly spoke.  “I know that you’re a virgin at this, Belle, so that there may be some pain involved at first.  But I’ll be as slow and as gentle as possible so that we both enjoy it as much as we can.”

Belle mewed in response as the tip of the appliance pressed up against, and then through her anal opening, bringing forth a low gasp from her.  Deanna advanced it slowly but relentlessly, watching Belle grip the sheets by her side, until the entire shaft was embedded.  She heard Belle breathing heavily and more rapidly, and then sigh deeply, as she sighed as well.  She began to slowly rock back and forth, in and out, each time coming a little further out, and thrusting it a little faster in.  Each stroke put more delightful pressure on her own end as well as it rubbed and pressed joyfully against the nexus of her own womanhood.  She began to also breath more heavily, and then pant as she progressively picked up the pace of her pumping, as it sent course after course of sensuous stimulation surging through her.  She humped harder and harder, bucking furiously at the end, forcing Belle fully down onto the bed.  Suddenly she threw her head back as her juices exploded and gushed around her end of the dildo, and her strangled scream was joined by one from Belle as well just as Belle’s own interior, violated and stimulated to its own breaking point, caused her to erupt forth in front as well.

Waves of ecstacy washed through both of them for what seemed like an eternity as the Lady’s plunging continued until Deanna, completely spent, slowed down and finally pulled out, sagging down to the bed at Belle’s side, as Belle’s own copious emissions slowed to a dribble.

“Oh My Lady, I’m so sorry ... I didn’t mean ... I couldn’t help myself ... please forgive me.”  Belle sobbed hopelessly as Deanna settled next to her.  The Lady put two fingers up to Belle’s lips.

“Shuusshh Belle, please ... I wanted you to enjoy it.  I’m glad you enjoyed it.  It makes me very happy that you did.”

“But the mess I’ve made.  I’ve ruined your sheets for sure.”

Deanna laughed softly.  “Oh Belle, please.  A very small price to pay for what we both just shared.  Let’s just lie here together a while to savor it, shall we.”

Belle nodded, her tears of shame becoming those of joy, and before long both of them, in the afterglow of their shared climax, drifted off into a light but satiated sleep.  Around midnight Deanna awoke and found Belle, still lying on her stomach but with her eyes open, gazing adoringly at her.

Deanna smiled.  “I think it’s time for you to go to your own room, Belle.  Take one of my robes to cover yourself.”

“Of course My Lady.”  Belle replied.  “But let me clean up my mess first and change your sheets for you.” she added plaintively.

“Don’t worry about that, Belle.  Edward will do it.  Please send him in as you leave.”

“Yes, My Lady. “ Belle got up from the bed, went over the Lady’s closet, and as instructed put on one of her robes.  She then gathered up her own clothes strewn on the floor and made ready to leave.

“Belle.”  Deanna called from the bed.

“Yes, My Lady?”

“I really did have a wonderful time with you tonight.  The whole night.  Thank you.”

“Thank YOU, My Lady.” Belle answered with the very deepest of emotions as she turned and departed.

********

Jared sat slumped on the floor in the hall by Belle’s room, his arms wrapped around his knees.  It had been inferred by the others that none of them ever spent the whole night with the Lady, so after he had cleaned up following the dinner, and had changed back into his usual slave garb, he had come here to wait for Belle.  He was very worried about her.  Over the course of the day and evening he had come to realize just how important this all was to her, and how fragile she was.  Much more so than Abel.  He knew that Deanna wasn’t cruel.  Indeed, she was incredibly good hearted and kind.  She just needed to be dominant and in complete control.  But he felt that one wrong step upstairs, another serious miscalculation, could be devastating for Belle.  He waited, fretting.

He stood up quickly as he saw her coming down the hall.  “Belle?” he probed anxiously.

“Oh Jared”  she responded raptly upon seeing him.  “It was magical.”

He smiled in relief.  But his smile was bittersweet, and Belle, seeing that, suddenly understood.  “Jared, I’m so sorry.”

His smile became more accepting.  “It’s fine Belle.  I made my own bed and I have to sleep in it.  I’m just happy that everything turned out so well for you tonight.  It did, didn’t it?”

“Beyond my wildest dreams.”

“I’m glad.  I just had to make sure.”

“Thank you.”  She reached out to touch his hand.  “I really mean it.”

After wishing her good night he turned to go.  “Jared.” she called, stopping him for a moment.  “I just know she’s going to forgive you.  She’s just too wonderful not to.”

As he walked back to his room Jared was finding such a thought increasingly more difficult to believe, and hope, that it would ever be so.

  

    

                      

This is the 10th part of a 12 part tale of a Lady and her stable of slaves

10.  Slut’s Night Out

The next day everyone, with the exception of Jared who hid it well, was in excellent spirits.  There seemed to be a bit more bounce in everyone’s step and a palpable sense that a cloud of some kind had begun to dissipate.  At the slaves’ supper that evening Michael approached Jared in his corner and ‘suggested’ that he join the rest of them at the kitchen table.  Not feeling that he could or should refuse such an offer, Jared followed him there.  Thomas and Abel greeted him with grins, and Edward, while not appearing exactly welcoming, at least did not voice any objections.  From that time on Jared took all of his meals at the table with them, and while he still didn’t speak unless spoken to he was no longer ignored and was often included in the general banter. 

Even Deanna was in a much better mood.  She had not exaggerated to Belle at how much she had enjoyed the night before.  She had not fully realized how much she had missed the personal and private interactions with her slaves, not least of all the sexual exhilaration and kink.  That desire and need now  returned to her with a vengeance.

Over the next several weeks she once again began to summon her minions individually to her bedroom on a regular basis.  First there was Michael, whom she properly humiliated, having him spend the evening as her ‘lap’ dog, with leash and collar, putting him through extensive puppy training teaching him to sit, heel, roll over, fetch, bark and beg, and eventually to ‘lap’ her to several very enjoyable orgasms, finishing as always with the joystick, which he had to shimmy under the bed to retrieve with his face, his tail end up and wagging as he did, finally getting the short end into his mouth and crawling back out with the long end jutting forward for her use and pleasure.  Once fully sated she then granted him his own release, as the dog he had become, humping furiously against her fully leather booted leg, yipping at her coaxing commands as he squirted, while she laughed and sniggered mirthfully.  She then had him lick his puppy goo off, and polish her boots to a sparkling shine with his tongue.

A few nights later there was Thomas.  After she had assured herself that he was sufficiently healed by having him strip completely and bend over to present his ass for her inspection, she handcuffed his hands behind his head, securing them to a ring on the back of his collar.  She then hobbled his ankles and had him crawl on his knees  around the room after her.  To encourage his efforts to catch up she began to remove individual articles of her clothing until all that remained was her bra and panties.  Encumbered as he was he fell face first to the floor a number of times in his increasingly frustrating attempts to reach her.  He struggled each time to again become upright on his knees as she laughingly exhorted him on to continue his pursuit.  As a final teasing inducement she discarded her panties and bent over the side of her bed in invitation.  In his now frenzied haste to get to her he sprawled forward once more, but this time he abandoned any attempt to rise and instead crawled and squirmed on his belly until he reached the bed.  Ratcheting his upper body up the side of the bed he was finally allowed the prize of burying his face between the cheeks of her derriere, where, his hands on the back of his head pushing his face and ever deeper, he performed the most luscious and prolonged analingus, his tongue continuously swirling and darting, straining to furrow even deeper within her treasured trove, eliciting ever increasing sighs of delight from her.  When she had her fill of this she turned herself around so that he could then pay more oral homage to her more sacred font, driving her onward and upward to ever more exquisite heights.  Eventually drifting down she graciously offered him his own reward, having him lie in front of her, and after some prolonged and agonizing teasing of his undefendable cock and balls, bringing him up to and down from the brink several times, she finally brought him to a shuddering climax with her bare foot, making sure to then feed him back the entirety of his spew with her toes.

There soon followed another if somewhat less formal but still extremely delightful evening with Belle, and also then one with Abel.  And finally there was Edward, whom she readily acknowledged to herself was her first and favorite in so many more ways than one.  He had the most talented hands and fingers, which she always put to her good uses every day with various massages and other cosmetic care of her body.

But they were also most amazingly inventive in more intimate techniques as well, which she had taken full advantage of many times in the past.  Now the time had come to do so again.  After taking the time to administer to him another over the knee chastisement for some imagined inadequacy, she then had him perform his special magic, his hands and fingers ably aided by his tongue, once again moving her to writhe with wild abandon, transporting her deliriously over the edge as if in free fall multiple times.

When she had finally had more than her fill and had recovered her breath and vigor she sat up on the side of her bed and had him, his backside still aflame, stand in front of her.  She turned to retrieve the key to his plastic prison from her night stand and then released him.  He slowly rose forward in firm obeisance.  Even at his age she found him so cute and cuddly below.  With her hand she cupped his tightening sac softly and then moved her fingers forward to lightly encircle his beseeching shaft.  Knowing it would take time for him she leisurely moved her hand back and forth, while murmuring to him continuously, “What a good little slave you are ... such a good, good boy ... you’d do anything for me ... you’d suffer any indignity just to make me smile, wouldn’t you ...”

Edward began to sway to her ministrations, and with increasingly heavy breaths he responded:

“Oh yes, My Lady ...”

“Anything you want, My Lady ...”

“I’m yours, My Lady ...”

“PLEASE, My Lady.”

Deanna began to stroke more firmly and quickly.  “Yes, you do want to please me, don’t you ... all of the time ... in every way ... you want to offer yourself up to me ... your essence ... every last drop of it ... to use however  would most amuse me.”

Edward began to rock more rapidly forward as she gripped him and pulled on him faster and more tightly.

“Come to me Edward.” she urged, ever increasing the pace, “Give yourself up to me ... totally ... until you have nothing left to give ... COME for me Edward ... COME ... COME FOR ME NOW.”

“Oh Yes My Lady ... as you Command My Lady ... Anything ... oh yes ...  Yes ... oh YEEESSS ...” he gasped, and then could gasp no more as he arched forward and keened through gritted teeth as he spurted forth in spasm after massive spasm.  Deanna continued to pump more vigorously with her one hand while fully collecting his offering in her other, until sputtering both physically and mentally he literally had nothing left to give.  Utterly drained he sagged to his knees on the floor.  After giving him several moments respite to collect himself she brought her hand up and forward with his gift.

“Take it all back Edward.  Take it so that you can offer it to me again whenever I demand it.”  He obediently bent his face forward and brought his mouth down to her hand, and with his lips and tongue took back within him all that he had given.  When completely consumed he knelt back up.  The Lady smiled at him fondly, and then lifted her foot a few inches off the floor.  He bowed himself back down to bring his lips to it reverently, to express in veneration once again his profound and undying gratitude.

********

While Deanna certainly enjoyed all of these individual encounters she began to have a nagging and unsettling sense that something in all of it was missing.  After much contemplation she finally came to strongly suspect what it was.  She realized that since Jared had left her over six years ago she had not fucked.  Not once.  Not with anyone.  She had just never had the inclination or desire to bestow that treasure on anyone.  But suddenly she felt that in denying all others she was also denying herself, and having Jared around again only served to more starkly highlight this ongoing hole in her life.

These dalliances with her boys were immensely pleasurable but she now knew that she wanted more.  She urgently needed to fill that void that she had inexplicably allowed to evolve.  But she also understood that it could not be with any of her slaves.  That would destroy the dynamic, the very fabric of what she, and they, had all established.  And Jared was completely out of the question.

Indeed, it was becoming increasingly more irritating and upsetting to her to see how much he now seemed to be ingratiating himself with all of the others.  She had seen out her window how Thomas and he now worked so easily together, often laughing and trading jokes as they did so.  Michael had always been a little awestruck with Jared’s history as a star ballplayer, and Belle had recently appeared to have formed quite an emotional attachment to him.  Even Edward no longer referred to him as negatively as he had in the past.  She could just imagine how he must be secretly laughing at the others for never getting what he had once so easily had, and smugly planning to have it again.

That would never be, she vowed, even as she craved it so badly again herself.  She had to find a way to satisfy this regrowing hunger while showing him once and for all that it would never again be with him.  Maybe if she sought out someone to get hot and filthy with ,someone so far down the food chain, showing how low she would go and still not consider him, Jared would finally see and understand just where he stood ... or rather where he lay, belly down in the slime, so that he would finally take it upon himself to slither away for good.

But how to accomplish all this was the question.  A morsel of an idea began to form and before long it had become a full plate.  It would take some preparation but the more she thought and elaborated upon it the more it appealed to her.  She went to the internet for investigation and eventually found what she was looking for.

The first part of the plan required another shopping outing.  This time she had Edward take Belle and herself out.  She surprised them both by directing Edward not to the upscale boutiques and shoppes that she usually patronized, but instead to an outlet mall outside one of the neighboring towns.  She led them to one of the lower end stores there and began searching and finally selecting off the racks just the items she wanted.  For Belle she chose a faux black leather miniskirt that ended several inches above her knees, and a low cut sleeveless red blouse.

“These will go perfectly with those boots we got you.” she waxed to her maid.

For herself she picked out skin tight blue jeans that tapered to an end just below mid calf.  To this she added a shiny and sleek black tank top that came down to just below her navel.  She savored the incredulous looks that both Edward and Belle gave her about the purchases, and let the mystery delectably linger until they were back in the car when she finally explained.

“I need to do some serious personal research again for a section of my book, and I need to have you come along with me for cover, Belle.” she began.  ‘We’re going to be slumming it together on Saturday night, a walk on the wide side, and these new clothes will help us fit it.  To be more authentic.”

She purposefully didn’t elaborate, leaving Belle bewildered and apprehensive and Edward stifling many anxious questions.  Before returning home she had him make one last stop, this time at a pricy men’s clothing store.  Going in together she bought a nice pair of men’s trousers, a dress shirt, a sweater, dress socks, and an expensive pair of Italian loafers.  All in Jared’s size.

As Saturday approached Deanna became more and more excited while the rest of the manor grew more confused and concerned.  She had not revealed to them any more of her specific plans, and while they all understood that their sole function was always to accept and obey, it didn’t stop them from being worried.  When Saturday finally came Deanna insisted that Belle and she get ready together.

After Belle had gotten dressed in the red top, black miniskirt and black boots that laced up to mid calf, Deanna set to fixing her hair.  Abel usually wore his hair in a ponytail and Belle most often put hers in a bun under her maid’s cap.  On those few occasions when she dressed up she would wear it straight and smoothly down to her shoulders.  Now Deanna used some special hair products to give it a more frizzed quality as it hung down.  A ‘wet and wild look’ she announced as she was done.

Next she set to applying Belle’s makeup.  She started with a generous amount of foundation and then a liberal use of black eye liner and eye shadow.  She finished with a deeper shade of red lipstick than Belle had ever used.  The overall effect made her look older than her years, and certainly more vampy than she had ever wished.

Deanna then turned to her own preparations.  After putting on the shiny black tank top that fell just below her midriff she squeezed her way into the skin tight jeans.  By keeping herself in such good physical condition over the years she didn’t look out of place in them.  For shoes she wore a pair of backless two inch heeled silver pumps.  She had parted her own hair in the middle and swept in down behind her ears to rest on her shoulders.  For makeup she went for a sultry look, also using for herself a much heavier hand than usual.  When she was done she got up and stood next to Belle as they both peered into the mirror.

“We’re a real pair of skanks, aren’t we.” she chuckled.

Horrified inside, Belle tried to manage a weak smile in reply, “Yes My Lady.”

Deanna knew that she had to put Belle somewhat to ease.  “Look Belle, I know you’re not very comfortable with any of this, but I need you along with me for support and to make it seem real.”  It did make it easier for Belle that she thought that her Lady needed and was depending on her.  “We’re likely going to be hit on tonight.  That’s kinda the whole idea.”  Deanna continued.  “And while I intend to enjoy it and take it as far as I want it to go, you only have to let it go so far and then tell whomever that you’re on the rag.”  Deanna laughed.  “Believe me, nothing will make a jerkoff on the make back off faster than that.  And if not, then just give me a signal and I’ll get em off you in a flash.  Okay?”

“Whatever you say, My Lady.”

“It’s D again tonight, Belle.  And don’t worry, everything’s going to work out just fine.  Let your hair down and have some fun.  I certainly intend to.  It’s a slut’s night out.”  She beamed approvingly. “Now I think it’s about time we got going.  We wouldn’t want to keep our potential suitors waiting too long.” 

Locking her arm with Belle’s they proceeded together down the stairway to the manor’s large entrance foyer where Edward and Jared stood waiting for them.  To Edward’s dismay, the bigger and stronger Thomas would not be driving and watching over the Lady and Belle this night.  She had instructed that Jared fill that role.  He was wearing, as ordered, the outfit they had purchased for him for the occasion, tan trousers, a royal blue dress shirt, a powder blue crew neck sweater over it, dark blue socks, and the pair of Italian loafers.  He couldn’t have looked more preppy.  Deanna ignored him completely.

“Well, let’s get moving.” she said, smiling.  “Don’t wait up for us Edward.” knowing full well that he would.  “It’s likely to be a long night.”

“As you wish, My Lady.” he replied following them out to the Town Car in the front driveway where he opened the back door for her to enter, followed by Belle.  Jared went around to get into the driver’s seat.

Once the car doors were all closed and they were settled in, Deanna leaned forward and handed Jared a slip of paper.  “This is the address where we’re going tonight.  Put it in the GPS and go.”

“Yes Ma’am” he responded as he complied.  The GPS directions took about 30 minutes to get them to the outskirts of one of the small towns just outside the main city.  It was a rather seedy appearing stretch of road and area when the mechanical voice announced that they were approaching their destination.

“Pull over and park here.”  Deanna demanded from the back.  When he had done so she leaned forward again and handed him two twenty dollar bills.  “The place we want is the one down the road with all the motorcycles in front.  I want you to go in ahead of us, go up to the bar and order a glass of milk.  Then go sit at a table in one of the corners.  Have you got that?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Good.  Give me the car keys.  We’ll lock up and be in by and by.  Now get going.”

Jared got out of the car and slowly walked the fifty or so yards down to the establishment that Deanna had indicated.  It was called ‘Harry’s Haven’ and did have a fair number of large motorcycles and choppers parked in the lot in front.  Indeed, as Deanna had discovered on the web, this was one of the more notorious biker bars in the entire metropolitan area.  Sizing it up from the outside Jared grew quite alarmed.  Just what was Deanna getting herself ... and Belle and himself, into.  But he had been given an order, and he rationalized that it was far better that he be inside in such a place with them, than outside by himself in the car.

Once inside he saw that it was essentially one very large and long dimly lit room.  There were two unoccupied tables immediately to the right of the door where he had entered, and then a long bar also on the right.  In the much more expansive area to the left there were six or seven tables, and in the far left half of the room there was a pool table with a stronger light hanging above it.  At the far end of the room on the right there was a juke box with some heavy metal currently blaring, and an open area in front, presumably for dancing.

There were about fifteen or so people scattered about the room.  Four men were standing around the pool table playing and two others with women on their laps were sitting in chairs against the wall apparently watching them play.  All of the men were wearing black leather jackets with a large patch ‘Hades Road Crew’ embroidered on the back.  Two of the tables in the front left were occupied, one with two other men also with women on their laps and a number of bottles of beer on the table.  Two other men, alone, sat at the other table, also with beers in front of them.  All of the men wore the same leather jackets, and all of the women were dressed in a way that Jared saw that Deanna had at least gotten the dress code for women in this place correctly.  There was one person without a leather jacket sitting at the far end of the bar and a single bartender behind.  Finally there was a barmaid wearing hot pants, cowgirl boots and a tight white tee shirt with ‘Harry’s Haven’ emblazoned in front.  She was busy shuttling beers and empties back and forth.

Any unknown patron entering such a place would have drawn some momentary attention from at least some of the others.  Jared, dressed as he was, drew somewhat more.  He made his way over to the bar and the bartender.

“What’ll it be?” the bartender asked, a small amused smile on his face.

“A glass of milk.” Jared answered.

The bartender lost his smile.  “You gotta be shittin me.  We don’t serve nothin like that.  Is this some kind of joke?” he scowled.

“Jack.”  The man at the end of the bar spoke up.  He was wide and beefy, with a gray mustache and beard and longish gray hair.  “This is a paying customer.  If he wants milk, you get him milk.  I’m sure we have some in the fridge in the back.”

“Okay Harry, whatever you say.”  He smirked at Jared, and there were snickers coming from the table with the two solo men.  Jack went through a door behind the bar at the end.  Three somewhat tense minutes later he returned with a 3 ounce tumbler filled with milk.  He put it on the bar in front of Jared.

“That’ll be twenty bucks.” he announced. 

Jared almost choked.  “For a small glass of milk?”

“Supply and demand, my friend.” Harry intoned again from the end of the bar.  “We don’t have much of a supply and you had a great demand.  So now it’s time to pony up.”

The previous snickers from the table behind him now became a barking laugh.

“I guess you have a good point.” Jared agreed, offering back a small smile of his own.  He laid one of the twenties that Deanna had given him onto the bar.  He then took the glass of milk and went over to the farther of the two tables by the front door and sat down to slowly nurse his drink.

About five minutes later Deanna and Belle made their entrance.  If an apparently out of place Jared had caught the momentary attention of some of the regulars, two unknown women did even more so.  With a great show of nonchalance Deanna led the way for the two of them over to the bar.

Jack grinned at them after they had settled themselves onto bar stools.  “What’s your pleasure?” he asked.

“That depends.”  Deanna smiled back.  “But we’ll start with a couple of beers.”

Jack’s grin got broader as he opened two bottles of beer and put them with two empty glasses in front of the pair.  Deanna disdained the glasses, picked up one of the bottles and handed it to Belle, then grabbed the other and took a healthy swig.  Belle followed suit with a much smaller swallow of her own.

After a couple of minutes the two men at the nearby table got up and sauntered over to the bar.  Both were rather big and burly and certainly appeared physically imposing.

“Looks like we got some new meat here tonight, Jack.” one of them said to the bartender, loud enough for everyone in the vicinity to hear.

Deanna turned toward him and smiled again.  “What a coincidence.  I was just saying the same thing to my friend Belle here.”

The man grinned back.  “Well then, what say my friend and I buy you  two another round and we all get to know each other a lot better.”

“It’ll take a lot more that a couple of beers to do that.” Deanna laughed.

The man turned to his friend leaning on the bar next to him.  “Ooo, it seems like we got a couple of live ones here, Artie.”

Deanna in turn looked to Belle and said loudly enough for all to hear as well.  “The more important question, Belle, is do we have any live ones ourselves.”

“Well why don’t we all find out.” the first man laughed in response.  “Jack, another round for all of us, and have Sweetpea,” nodding over at the barmaid, “bring em over to the table for us.”

“Sure Nick.” Jack replied.

Nick made a small mock bow toward Deanna and with a sweep of his hand indicated their table.  “Ladies.”  he offered. 

Deanna arched an eyebrow and waited several beats as if considering.  Finally she spoke up.  “Why not, Belle.  Let’s see what the goods are.” and she then stood up and led the way over to the designated table, with Belle and the two bikers right behind.  Nick sat down next to Deanna, with Artie next to Belle.

Several more rounds of beer followed, with Deanna and Nick trading increasingly more suggestive quips and jibes.  Nick, not particularly used to this kind of interaction with women, seemed to be enjoying himself as much as Deanna.  After a few more beers she found herself sitting on his lap, occasionally fending off in mock horror some, but purposefully not all, of the advances of his roving hands.

Belle remained far more quiet and drank far less despite Artie’s efforts to further engage her.  Most of her responses were one or two words or a weak smile.  “You’re quite the shy one, ain’t ya.” Artie reckoned.  “But that’s alright.  I like em shy.  Who needs all that much yappin when we get down to it.”

“Yes, I suspect that talk would be quite a hindrance to any of your conquests, Artie.”  Deanna piped in.  Artie grinned in agreement, while Nick smirked, seemingly at his friend’s expense.  A slow Country Western song came up on the juke box.

“If you don’t want to gab, why don’t we get up and dance.” Artie suggested with a leer.  Belle stiffened.

“Oh, go on Belle.  Give the guy a thrill.”

Belle nodded at Deanna’s charge, and Artie stood.  “We’ll see who gets the bigger thrill.” he said.   He guided Belle over to the area in front of the juke box,  wrapped his arms around her, and began to sway in a semblance of a dance.

”Your friend’s pretty uptight, ain’t she.” Nick observed as one of his hands worked its way under Deanna’s shirt.

“Oh she’s fine.” Deanna retorted.  “It’s just that it’s that time of the month for her.”

Nick guffawed.  “Artie’s going to love that when he finds out. And be fuckin pissed.  Looks like I picked the right one tonight.”

“In more ways that one.”  Deanna laughingly agreed, allowing his hand to find her breast.

“Holy Fuckin Shit.”  Artie suddenly bellowed from across the room, breaking the spell.  “This Fuckin Cunt is a Fuckin Fag”

While dancing he had slipped his hand down the front of her miniskirt and Belle had been too startled and terrified to remember the ‘on the rag’ strategy.  “You Fuckin Bitch.” he screamed as he ripped her skirt down so that everyone could see that she was most definitely not.

Deanna shot off Nick’s lap and started to rush over.  “Leave her alone, asshole” she screamed.  But Nick was just as fast.  He grabbed her from behind. “What, are you a fuckin faggot as well?”  he roared.  She swung around and tried to push him away.

“Get your filthy paws off of me.” she yelled back.  Nick responded by hitting her with a full clenched fist across the face, knocking her to the floor, blood spouting out from a huge cut above her eye.  He raised his arm to strike her again when he pitched forward and down to the ground himself, tackled from behind by Jared.  Utilizing his surprise, Jared scrambled up and punched Nick in the jaw, keeping him stunned and on the floor.  Jared got up just in time to see Artie, leaving Belle behind, rushing over to his friend’s aid.  He took a wild swing at Jared who ducked underneath and delivered one of his own to Artie’s gut, doubling him over, and then followed it up with a blow to Artie’s head staggering him back.

“Get her out of here, Belle. Now.” Jared used the moment’s respite to shout, before turning his attention back to his two combatants.  Belle needed no further encouragement.  She grabbed the still dazed and bleeding Deanna by the arm and half dragged her toward the front door.  As they got there Deanna had begun to recollect her senses and turned back just in time to see one of the other bikers in the bar strike Jared full in the back with a bar stool, knocking him down to his knees before Artie then grabbed and pulled him up holding him in a bear hug as Nick got to his feet and approached.

“Jared.” Deanna wailed.  “We’ve got to help him.”

“Honey.” the barmaid who was also standing by the door chimed in.  “You two best get out of here as fast as you can before them boys turn their attentions back to you.  And you can be sure they won’t be gentle when they do.”

Much as she hated herself for agreeing, Belle could see that there was nothing they could do for Jared here, who was now surrounded by a whole group of bikers taking their turns punching and kicking him as Artie held him fast.

“My Lady, she’s right, we can’t help him here.  We’ve got to get out and call the police.”  She pulled the struggling Deanna through the door, who fought her to go back.  But Belle would not be deterred.  “Your phone, My Lady.  Where is it?  We have to call the police.”

Given an alternative course of action Deanna turned away from the bar.  “It’s in the car.”  She started to race in that direction losing both shoes along the way.  Belle was right behind her.  Unlocking the car door as fast as she could she scrambled in, found the phone and rapidly dialed 911.

“They’re killing him.” she screamed when the operator came on.  “Who Ma’am, where?” the operator answered.  “The bar, ‘Harry’s Haven’.  I don’t remember the address.  You’ve got to help him.  PLEASE HURRY” she cried.  “We’ve got a fix on your phone Ma’am.  We’ll dispatch a police unit right away.” 

For what seemed like forever but was only about two terrifying minutes later a police car with lights flashing rapidly pulled into the lot in front of Harry’s.  Within another minute two more squad cars screeched up, and together a group of six policemen rushed into the bar.  Belle had to physically hold on to Deanna to keep her from running back.

“The police are there, My Lady.  They’ll take care of things, but it still might be dangerous for us.”

“But Jared ... I have to know how he is.  They were beating him so badly.”

“The police will take care of him, My Lady.  We’ll stay here and wait and when they bring him out we’ll get him.”

Deanna was barely placated and as the minutes ticked by with nothing seeming to happen either inside or out she became more and more distraught.  Finally she could take no more and made to get out of the car to go back.  Just as she did, an ambulance, lights also flashing, pulled up in front.  Two paramedics jumped out, opened the back, pulled out a stretcher, and rolled it quickly inside.  Four of the policemen came out to form a perimeter around the front lot to keep away the onlookers that had started to gather.  Deanna moved forward as far as one of them, who stopped her.

“Is ... Is anyone hurt inside?” she asked, panicked.

“It’s a police matter Ma’am, I can’t say much more.” the policeman replied.  He then saw the large cut over her eye that was still oozing.  “Are you alright?” he asked

“I just want to know that ... that everyone in there is okay ... I have a friend ... friends ...” she didn’t know what more to say.

The policeman further took in how she looked.  They all knew about Harry’s and that was why they had responded so quickly in such numbers.  “Well there is a guy in there who’s pretty busted up that they’re taking down to Riverside General.  That’s all I can tell you..  The rest is a police investigation.”

At that point the paramedics hurriedly wheeled out a man on the stretcher.  Though he was strapped in and covered and wearing an oxygen mask, Deanna could see the shoulder tops of the powder blue sweater.  Shaken, she turned back to Belle who was right behind her and handed her the cell phone.  “Call ... call Edward and tell him what happened, that we’re following the ambulance.  Tell him to meet us at the hospital.  Tell him ...” she couldn’t go on anymore.  She rapidly made her way back to the car.

Belle got Edward on the phone and briefly described what had occurred, “...  and I think the Lady’s going to have to be seen at the hospital as well.  I think she’s going to need some stitches.” she added at the end. 

As she reached the car she hung up and got into the driver’s seat next to the numbed Deanna.  She started up the car and began to follow the ambulance that had just pulled out and begun to speed away.

This is the 11th part of a 12 part tale a Lady and her stable of slaves

11. Private Dancer

Deanna initially refused to be seen as a patient at the emergency room.  But she was getting nowhere at the front desk trying to get information about Jared inside.  She was in a contest of wills with a battleaxe of a receptionist which was beginning to turn ugly when Edward arrived with Michael and Thomas.  He quickly convinced her that she had a much better chance of finding out what was going on inside as a patient.  He promised her that while she was having her own wound attended to, Michael had some ideas on how to break through the privacy regulations that to this point were stymying them.

Belle accompanied her as they were led into an examination room.  As they waited for a doctor Deanna took a closer look at Belle.  Her miniskirt was badly torn in front and was only being held up by a strip of elastic at the belt line.  The front of her blouse was also ripped to the shoulder with several upper buttons missing so that it hung partially open.  Her makeup was badly mussed and there was blood, probably Deanna’s, streaked on her face and arms.

“Belle ... I’m so sorry.” she broke the stillness, quietly anguished.

“You never need to apologize to me, My Lady.”  Belle looked down and then back up.  “I’m just worried about Jared.”

“Yes.  I know.”  Deanna agreed.

They sat in silence together.  After about twenty minutes a doctor, a 3rd year ER resident physician, entered the room.  He introduced himself with an air of importance.

“There was a man who was brought in by ambulance who was pretty badly hurt.” Deanna impatiently broke in.  “Can you tell us how he is?”

The resident looked from one to the other, noticing their disheveled state and attire, and smirked.  “What, was he a john who got a little too frisky?”  He then visibly shrank backwards from the glare that Deanna bore down on him.

“Ah ...” he finally recovered his voice.  “I don’t know much about him, he isn’t my case, but I think he’s down having a CAT scan. “ he stammered weakly.  Then trying to reestablish his professional standing he took a small step forward.  “That’s a real nasty looking cut you’ve got there.  Can I take a look?” he offered, trying to sound contrite.

Deanna decided that she would likely get much more out of him if she responded in kind.  Her gaze softened.

“Come along then.  Have a look at it and tell me what you think.”

The doctor move forward to examine the two inch laceration that was above the outer corner of her left eye.  He first cleaned and disinfected it, and then carefully probed around and within it.

“It’s fairly deep but clean.” he finally pronounced.  “I can suture it for you, but if you’d like I can get a plastic surgeon in to do it.  He’d probably leave a less obvious scar.”

The last thing that Deanna was concerned about was a scar.  She actually considered that that would be the least that she deserved for being such an absolute cretin in bringing about this entire disaster.

“No, you go ahead and do it.” she replied.

The doctor nodded and set about his task.  Despite his earlier flippancy, and more probably due to Deanna’s silent and icy following rebuke, he was far more meticulous and disciplined than he might otherwise have been.  It took nine carefully placed stitches to close the cut to his nervous satisfaction.  After ordering the requisite Tetanus shot, he left.  Edward, who had been standing outside waiting, immediately entered.

“Have you found out anything about Jared?  She questioned him urgently.  “How is he?”

“Michael has been able to get some information, My Lady.”.

Indeed, Michael had had the great foresight to check Jared’s stored belongings at the manor just before they all made their mad dash to the hospital.  To be legal Jared had been given his driver’s license, although nothing else, to bring with him. Quickly rummaging through the rest of his wallet left behind Michael had found and brought with him Jared’s health insurance card.  Facing the formidable firewall that was the receptionist at the ER front desk he presented the card to her.  As obsequious as he could be, which was second nature to him with women of any stripe, he meekly explained to her that he was Jared’s ‘companion’ and that after a ‘spat’ between them in their car he had dropped Jared off at the bar at his request so they both could ‘cool off ’.  When he had calmed down he went back to get him and found the ambulance just leaving.  He was oh so terrified about his ‘friend’ and could she possibly find it in her heart to tell him about Jared’s condition, and to let Jared know that he was there for him.

While the implied relationship which Michael had woven for her did not meet the strict legal privacy guidelines of family members or health care proxy, Michael did have the insurance card, which did match the identity on the driver’s license that they had found on Jared.  The receptionist was only too happy to now be able to process the insurance information, and with a superior and knowing acknowledgment of Michael and Jared’s ‘relationship’ she passed word through to the medical team taking care of Jared.  The senior doctor in charge was also very happy to finally have someone to talk to about the case, and he came out to discuss it with Michael.

“He had a collapsed lung that they had to put a tube into his chest to re expand.” Edward began to explain to Deanna and Belle what Michael had been told.  “He also has a badly broken leg and may have some internal injuries.”  He paused to gather himself.  “But his worst problem” he continued, “is that he has a large blood clot  pressing on his brain, a subdural hematoma they call it, and they have to operate right away to drain.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Deanna struggled to hoarsely stammer out.

“They won’t know how much damage there is until they evacuate the clot and see.  He’s unconscious now and on a ventilator.”

Deanna sat stunned and unmoving, paralyzed by the news.  After several very long moments of utter silence Edward spoke up again.

“My Lady, it’s been a very long and hard night.  Why don’t you let Thomas drive you and Belle home.  Michael and I will stay here until we know more, and I’ll call you right away when we do.”

This snapped Deanna out of her numbed daze.  “NO.  Absolutely not.” she exclaimed.  “We’re not leaving until he’s out of the operating room and we know he’s alright.”

“Yes, My Lady.” he acquiesced, and he then led the three of them up to the surgical waiting room to join Michael and Thomas.

********

In actuality, as bad as Jared’s injuries were they could have been far worse.  As the sole proprietor of the bar, Harry, a ‘retired’ biker himself, had a vested interest in seeing that things like this didn’t get too out of hand.  While he was fine with his regular patrons exacting their retribution for the clear insult they had incurred, he couldn’t allow it to possibly proceed onto homicide.  At least not in his place.  He suspected that had all this occurred on the road it might well have done so, with the slug disappearing and never to be found.  So after he deemed a reasonable amount of punishment had been suitably administered he barked out a cease and desist.  Though not by nature ones to follow commands, Hades Road Crew knew better than to cross Harry.  And it was their haven as well after all.  So after a few more kicks they let Jared slump, barely conscious, to the ground.

The police arrived shortly after and Harry was surprised that they did, finally deducing that it must have been those two whores, no they were pervs, who had called them.  It made him wonder even more if they had all been together, him dressed like a fuckin fairy, and the two pervs like whores on the make.  So they probably did get what they deserved, although the pervs not enough by a long shot.  But now Harry had to clean up the mess.  For a standard weekly consideration he had a good working relationship with the local authorities, and as long as things never got too out of control they let a lot slide at the ‘Haven’.  As they tended to the badly beaten man on the floor it was an open question to the cops who were there whether this one had crossed that line. 

But Harry, and everyone else in the bar, insisted that it had been the man who had started it all, attacking Nick unprovoked, apparently over two women none of them had ever seen before and who were now nowhere to be found, having run off when the fight started.  That some of Nick’s friends had come to his defense had been understandable, and fortunately cooler heads had prevailed before it had gotten too ugly.  Assessing the now unconscious man while they called for an ambulance, the cops wondered just how much uglier it could have been.  But they would interview the man later, and unless he decided to press charges ... or died ... for the sake of the ongoing ‘congenial’ working relationship they had with Harry, they were willing to at least then accept the unanimous version of events presented to them by everyone in the bar.

********

After more than three excruciating hours the surgeon finally came into the waiting room to give the five of them an update on Jared’s condition .  The blood clot on his brain had been successfully drained but there was still a significant amount of brain swelling that would take some time to subside, and it was unclear at this point whether there would be any residual neurologic damage.  Otherwise, the prognosis for a good recovery, though it might be slow, was excellent.

Jared was transferred to the Intensive Care Unit and remained sedated on a ventilator for the next three days.  He was finally able to be weaned from the ventilator but remained in a semi conscious and stuporous state for several days after that.  Deanna had insisted that one of the four always be at the hospital to be available if Jared was in need of anything, and to relay any information about any change in his condition back to her.  They all alternated in shifts and were happy to do so as they were all very concerned for him as well.  After a week he was stable enough to be transferred out of the ICU and Deanna made sure to pay the extra cost, beyond his insurance coverage, so that he would have a private room.

Deanna herself never went to the hospital.  Indeed she had essentially isolated herself within the manor almost completely.  While the slaves carried on in their normal daily duties except for the time each of them spent at the hospital, there was very little interaction now between them and their Lady other than to report on their visits to Jared.  She otherwise remained apart.

How could she have been so blind and stupid, she continually asked herself alone in her room.  She had become so used to being in total charge that she had thought that she could control any situation.  Yes, there had been that element of danger that had added a daring sense of excitement that night, but she had been so sure that the force of her personality, her aura of power, would always hold sway.  She had been so wrong.  That was obviously only true with those who willingly submitted to it, and her false conceit had almost cost the three of them their lives.

Despite the slaves’ apparent ongoing allegiance, she didn’t see how it could all go on.  The totally unconventional, out of the box relationship they had all built and developed was based on mutual self interest and desire.  But as with any relationship of any stripe, for it to grow and flourish it had to be sustained by caring and trust.  And she had betrayed that trust, had jeopardized to the ultimate degree those who had willingly and completely placed themselves in her care.  She just could no longer understand how she could deserve their devotion.  As each day went on she withdrew more and more.

For the first few days in his private room Jared had only brief periods of consciousness, which were incoherent and confused, and he did not recognize any of the four who were with him at those times.  The doctors had assured them all that this was to be anticipated and they were encouraged by his increasing levels of responsiveness, if not his cognition. One afternoon though, when Edward was sitting in the room with him as he slept, Jared opened his eyes.

“Edward?” he spoke hesitantly as he saw Edward in the chair by the window.

“Jared!” Edward replied, relief very evident on his face as he got up to go over to the bed.  “It’s great to have you back.”

“What happened?  Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital Jared, and it’s a rather long story.”

Jared closed his eyes to let that sink in.  Then it all came to him in a rush and he tried to sit up.  “I remember.  Deanna.  Belle.” he cried in alarm.

Edward put his hand on Jared’s shoulder to keep him down.  “They’re fine, Jared, they’re fine.  They got away thanks to you.  You saved them.”

Jared looked up at Edward’s face and saw the calm and the smile and he sank back down into his pillow.  “Good.” he responded, relieved.  “Good”, and reassured he fell back into sleep.

His condition improved steadily after that.  Abel began making daily special goodies to either bring or send to him, to help fatten him back up, he said, and regain his strength.  Thomas took it upon himself to act almost as a personal trainer making sure that Jared did and redid all the exercises in bed that the hospital physical therapist had prescribed.  Someone in the hospital had recognized Jared and his name, and word had gotten out in the press leading to a flurry of articles along the lines of ‘Former Baseball Star Hurt in Barroom Brawl’.  Michael had immediately gone into his public relations mode, controlling and spinning the story that Jared had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had made the mistake of getting involved in the middle of an argument between a couple of bikers and their lady friends.

The police also finally came by to interview him.  Jared had sent word through Michael that he definitely didn’t want Deanna or Belle to become involved, and he told the police that he didn’t remember very much and certainly couldn’t identify any of his assailants.  He also didn’t know any of them, including any women beforehand, and so he couldn’t see how he could press for any charges, as he honestly couldn’t say who did what and when.  With no witnesses to counter Harry’s account, or that of any of the others in the bar that night, the police were only too happy to close the case.

Like Deanna, Jared was an only child with both parents deceased, and he had no family left except for some distant second cousins with whom he had lost contact over the years.  Because of the press notice a good number of his former teammates and old friends came to visit him however.  Jared was pleased and appreciated these visits but was much more comforted and buoyed by the daily rotating presence of the four from the manor.  Still, he reflected during his overnights alone, it was good to realize once again that he still had contacts and connections and a life outside the manor.

Deanna never came to see him.

About a week after their last meeting Edward returned for another visit.  Entering the room he found Jared for the first time out of bed sitting in a chair, his casted leg propped up on a hammock.

“Jared, it’s so good to see you up and out of bed.” Edward exclaimed, genuinely pleased.

‘Yeah, it feels real good, though I’m still weak as a kitten.  The doctors think I’m making great progress though.  They say I should be ready for a transfer to a rehab facility in another couple of days.  And once the cast comes off I’ll probably be back on my feet in a couple of weeks.”

“That’s wonderful.  Nothing could make any of us happier.”

Jared bowed his head.  “You guys have all been fantastic, being here for me all the time.  It’s really helped me keep my spirits up and I do thank you all.”

“Nonsense.” Edward demurred.  “It’s us who should be thanking you.  We all owe you a debt that can never be repaid.”

“Any of you would have done the same thing.”

“That may or may not be true, but the fact is that you’re the one who actually did, with no thought to yourself, and suffered a heavy price for it.  But thankfully you’ve come through it and we all can’t wait for you to be up and about again.”

“Thanks.”  Jared turned his head away.  He had been thinking about this almost constantly for several days and now was as good a time as any.  He looked back.

“Edward, I’m not going back.”

There was no confusion as to what Jared meant.  Edward sighed and looked out the window.  After several long moments he spoke.

“Since the day you first came and I learned who you were, I’ve wanted nothing more from you than that.  I honestly believed that it would be the best for all concerned.”  He paused and took a heavier breath.  “Now I’m not so sure.”

“What do you mean.” Jared protested.  “None of you have wanted me there.  Okay, the four of you have sort of taken me in and we’ve kind of became friends.  But Deanna ...”  He stopped and pressed his lips tightly.  “Your first allegiance has to be to her and she’s made it perfectly clear in every way possible that she wants nothing more from me than to be gone.”

“I no longer believe that’s true.”

“How can you say that?  What does she have to do to prove it?” Jared proclaimed, becoming more animated.  “Everything she’s done since I’ve been there has been to try to convince me to leave, that I no longer and never will be wanted by her again.  And that insane escapade at the bar that went so wrong was probably just supposed to drive the final point home.  Well it did.  She’s finally convinced me.”  He looked down at his hands and in a voice now barely above a whisper, “She hasn’t even come by to see how I am.”

Neither of them spoke for over a minute, and the silence hung like a shroud.  Finally Edward broke through.

“I know that I have no right to say this, but it’s what I really believe to be true.”  His eyes bore down on Jared.  “If Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, what must it be like for a Domme who felt that way.”  He stopped and his face softened,  “She didn’t know how to react, Jared, how to feel, how to forgive when you returned, even when you showed how so very far you were willing to go.  And now she is even more at a loss on how to ask for your forgiveness.  Or how to forgive herself.”

“She doesn’t want my forgiveness, Edward.  Nor me.”

“She not only wants it, she needs it.  She just doesn’t think she deserves it.”

“I think you’re wrong Edward, I really do.  But if you think it’s necessary you can tell her for me that she doesn’t have to concern herself or worry  anything about me any more.”

Edward looked long and hard at him.  “I will if that’s what you want, Jared.”

Jared just nodded, and there was nothing more to say.

Upon arriving back at the manor Edward immediately went to Deanna to report on his visit with Jared, as she required.  This was the one daily standing order that she still insisted on.  While the rest of the manor’s minions continued to diligently perform the rest of their daily duties, they continued to do so without any apparent interest or much interaction with the manor’s Lady.

Deanna looked up quickly as Edward entered her office.  She was spending almost all of her time on the second floor, rarely venturing to the main floor or outside, although she had done no writing or exercising since that night.

“How is he doing today?” she asked anxiously without any preamble.

“Very well, My Lady.  He was out of bed and sitting in a chair for the first time.  The doctors have told him that they likely will be transferring him to a rehabilitation facility very soon.”

Her eyes lit up.  “That’s fabulous.” she beamed.  “How long do you think it will be before he’s up and about and can ...” she hesitated and her voice softened, “... come back.”

Edward knew he was going to have to be the bearer of the news and there was no way to sugar coat it.

“I don’t believe he’s planning on coming back, My Lady.”

Deanna flinched, and her face became the blank mask it had been for most of the time of late.

“Oh ...” she conceded quietly.  “I understand.”

Edward had been wrestling with this for the entire trip back.  She was his Lady, but he owed her, and Jared, this.

“Do you?  Do you really understand, Deanna?”  He purposefully used her name, for the first time since the night they had met.

Her eyes flared, then saddened.

“What’s not to understand.  He almost died because of me.  And the same might have been true for Belle as well.  All because of my stupidity and absurdly exalted sense of myself.  Why would he ever want to come back to something like that.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Edward replied seriously.  “YOU would have to ask him that.”

“I can’t.” she moaned.  “I just can’t face him.  I can barely face any of you anymore after what I’ve done and how I’ve acted.  And even worse, what could have happened.   How can any of you want anything to do with me after all of that?  Especially Jared.”  Her eyes misted.  “So yes, I do understand why he doesn’t want to come back and I can hardly blame him this time.  And now,” she concluded, barely audibly “maybe not even for the first time he left either.”

Edward looked at her with deep understanding.  “Deanna,” he began gently.  “You’re not a Goddess.  You’ve never pretended to be and none of us have ever regarded you as such.  You’re a Dominant Lady.  One who inspires intense devotion and a desire to serve.  And you’ve given back to all of us in caring and the nurturing of our natures far more than we’ve ever offered to you.  But you are just a Lady, not a Goddess, and you can and do make mistakes, sometimes very big ones, as we all do and have.  We all have always understood that.  The key is to learn from those mistakes and not misinterpret them.  About how any of us feel and how we might react to them.  Even Jared.  Most importantly, Jared.”  He paused, hoping fervently that she would see.  “I can’t say how Jared ultimately feels,” he finally concluded, “but I do know that the only way to truly find out is for you to ask him yourself ... directly ... My Lady.”

********

Jared slipped in and out of a fitful sleep.  As he was regaining his strength but still spending most of his days in bed, he was finding it more difficult to sleep during the night.  Plus he had a great deal on his mind.  In a few days he was scheduled to move on to a rehab place, and hopefully in a month or so he would be back on his feet and ready to move on with his life.  Wherever that was to go.  He had been lost before and now the major path forward, on which he had so strongly based his hopes, had been foreclosed.  But at least he had the financial security and wherewithal to survive.  He dejectedly suspected though that surviving was all he would be doing for quite some time.

He didn’t know what caused him to suddenly come awake again.  He looked over to the room’s large window from which outside night light was filtering in.  He saw the silhouette.  Though the front was in shadow he instantly knew who it was.

“Deanna.” he voiced in wonder.

How long had she been standing there, watching him?  She took a step forward.  “Jared.” she answered softly.

He switched on a small night light, enough for them to see each other.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

It took a long moment for her to answer.  “I’ve come to say I’m sorry,” she started, “although that’s so pathetically inadequate after all you’ve been through and done.”

“ I didn’t do much except get my ass kicked.” he shrugged

“You were beaten  badly and almost killed saving me and Belle from the same, that’s all you did.  And all because of my pig headed stupidity and conceit.  Saying thank you is nowhere near enough, and apologizing for putting you in that position in no way can ever make up for it.”  She bowed her head.  “But I do apologize and thank you ... for that ... and for everything.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Deanna.”

“I not only have to, I need to.” she responded emphatically, with a yearning in her eyes.

Jared remembered Edward’s words.  Maybe this would allow both of them a clean break, he decided, so that they could both then go their separate ways with some semblance of peace.

“Apology accepted.” he finally said quietly.

“Thank you.” she whispered and cast her eyes down again.  Now she can leave, Jared thought, and we can both move on.

But Deanna didn’t leave.  No further words were spoken until she finally looked up, took another step forward and broke the silence.

“Why did you come back, Jared?”

Why was she doing this?  It was over.  She had done everything in every way imaginable to show him that he wasn’t wanted, that he needed to go, and the message had finally, painfully, been received.  And it wasn’t the physical pain that had cut him to his very core, it was the agony of his very soul.  Why was she asking him this?  Did she want to drive the stake home one final time just to be sure?  He had tried just now to give her peace, why couldn’t she allow him the same, though any peace that he received would likely be more along the lines of ‘rest in peace’.  But still, despite it all, a tiny flame fanned by her question flickered from the dying embers within his heart and he couldn’t stop himself.

“Because I can’t live without you.” he blurted.  There was no stanching the breach now that he had begun.  “I also needed to apologize, to beg for your forgiveness however little I deserved it, for being so pigheaded and stupid myself, for walking away from the best thing that any man could ever have.  That I had ever had, and will ever have.  I needed to be with you in any way possible, all of the time ... even if it was only as your slave.”

Deanna didn’t respond immediately.  But then ...

“I don’t want you as my slave.”

The fledgling flame began to gutter out and he sagged back into his bed.  Deanna took another step forward.  This was the moment, and she was never more sure of anything in her life.

“Jared ...... I want you, I need you ...... as my one and only ...... My Private Dancer ... to be there for me and me alone as I would be for you ... My Husband as I would be your Wife.”  She stopped for a moment as if overcome.  “I threw that away once before.  Is there any chance, any chance at all that I could have ... another chance?”

He had nothing else to say but ... “Deanna, I love you ...”

She bent forward and brought her lips softly to his, the first kiss she had shared with anyone since he had left.  Jared brought a hand up to the back of her head and pressed it down so that their lips became more crushingly and passionately embraced.  Their tongues worked through and joined together as well.  All breathing stopped as they both sought to prolong this moment as long as possible.  Finally, reluctantly, their lips parted.

“Jared, I do love you.  I’ve always loved you.  I’ve never stopped loving you.” she exclaimed breathlessly.  “I’ve just had such wants and needs.”  She stopped again and then rushed on.  “But I’ve finally learned that it has to be a two way street.  It can’t all be that you give and I take.  I have to give back and hope that you accept, because we do fit so well together.”

All of the time that she was speaking, Deanna’s hands were unconsciously roaming and rediscovering Jared’s body through the bed sheet.  When they reached a certain spot though ...

“Oh my.” she became aware and broke into a mischievous grin.  “It looks like someone is far more recovered than I was led to believe.”

Jared blushed deeply.  “What can you expect when the most beautiful Lady in the world is telling you that she loves you.”

Deanna laughed.  “Flattery will get you ... Everywhere.”  She brushed the bed sheet aside.  Jared was only wearing his hospital gown and nothing beneath.  Deanna pulled that up and brought her face down to caress the risen totem of his love.  Her face, which she had resolutely withheld from all, from before to now.  Jared groaned as her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, and finally her lips gently cuddled up and down his shaft.  Her tongue came out to add its own sweet contribution before she took him fully within her mouth, swirling her tongue around him inside.

This was oh so exquisite for them both, but they both needed so much more.  Deanna stood up and shed her skirt and all that was underneath.  She climbed up onto the bed to straddle him just below his waist.

“Will this hurt you too much?” she asked, suddenly very concerned about his injuries.

Jared smiled.  “You know I always like a little pain with your love.  And no amount now could ever make me not want this.”

Deanna smiled back, bent forward to kiss him again, and reached back with her hand to guide him within her.

As they always had, they fit together perfectly.  She slowly began to rise up and down, and he moved to follow her lead.  There was no rush.  It all felt so new, yet so wonderfully remembered.  The pace gradually increased as their eyes locked and their urgency began to grow.  Her movements slowly became more vigorous, as did his thrusting until both were in full throes.  Matching drives they pushed and pulled and grabbed and writhed, their arms interlocked as their bottoms raged back and forth together.  And the inferno within them both, that had been held in check for far too long, could no longer be contained.  With no ability or desire to stop they both exploded simultaneously, Jared pouring every ounce of his essence deep with her, and Deanna accepting it all, with her own juices gushing forth to join with his.

The culmination and climax continued on far beyond what either would have ever believed they could endure.  But it had been so long and they both had so much they wanted to share that they tried to make it last forever.  Finally though, both fully drained, Deanna slumped down and off, as Jared made room on the bed for her to snuggle at his side.  They lay together like that for uncountable time, totally at peace with themselves and each other. 

She had ridden him long and hard like a stallion.  And he was a stallion.  Her stallion.  And so, so much more.  And it had been glorious as he had taken her so far beyond where she had ever been before.  And she had given every bit as much as she had received.  And she now fervently vowed that they would both continue to give and take and accept what they would always want and need from each other.  She would never again allow what had been lost and now  re-found to ever again be cast away.  By either of them 

At last they both came back down from the heights they had scaled and Jared opened his eyes and gazed at her.

“You’ll always be the boss, you know.”

She smiled.  “And you’ll never be fired.  No matter how much you might irk me.” she responded.  Her eyes grew dreamy.  “I’m sure that we can come up with any number of more interesting ways to deal with that.”

“I look forward to it.”

“You will.”  Her eyes then became more earnest.  “I need you to be my rock, Jared, my foundation, to keep my feet firmly planted upon so we both can continue to grow ... together.  You have to be my anchor, to keep my ... excesses from drifting too far.  I might not always like it, but I’ll always need it, and I can’t do it without you.”

“You won’t have to.” he promised.  “Ever again.”  His face suddenly grew somber however.

“The others.” he said, concerned.

“I know.” she acknowledged.  She looked away and then back.

“We’ll work it out.” She promised as well.  “Together.”

  

    

 

This is the 12th and final part of the tale of a Lady and her stable of slaves

But it is not the end for the characters

12.  Epilogue

As it turned out any fears about what might happen with the others at the manor proved to be unfounded.  Deanna had persuaded first Jared, and then his doctors, to allow him to be discharged to the manor for his rehabilitation.  She explained that she had her own gym there and that she would hire a physical therapist for however many hours a day was required.  She would purchase or rent any other necessary equipment, and she assured them all that she had a full ‘staff’ that would otherwise see to his every need.  And she would make certain that he would be taken to any and all follow up Doctor’s appointments so they could monitor his progress.

In the end everyone was in agreement and three days later, after all necessary arrangements were made, Jared was discharged from the hospital and came back to the manor.  As he was still unable to walk the private ambulance attendants carried him up by stretcher to the previously unoccupied bedroom on the second floor, down the hall from Deanna’s room and right next to her small gym.  The room had been furnished with a hospital bed, a flat screen TV, a radio, and a comfortable recliner.

The physical therapist that Deanna had hired came for four hours a day, and Thomas made sure to supervise another hour or two of exercises a day as well.  Abel went out of his way to make extra special meals for him, and as he couldn’t yet get down the stairs he ate in his room.  Any of them would have been happy to join him for these meals to keep him company, but Deanna pulled rank and began taking all of her meals with him.  Indeed, she was spending more and more of her time with him when he wasn’t involved with his rehab, even, as he got stronger, spending nights with him as well.

His cast came off a week later and his physical therapy then really began in earnest.  Within a week he was taking steps with a walker and within another, holding tight to the railing, he could negotiate stairs.  By the third week he could walk unaided and the physical therapist marveled at his progress.  By the fourth week he was going up and down the stairway with no problem and walking with only the slightest of limps, as Deanna beamed her delight.

It was evident to all in the manor that their Lady’s happiness wasn’t just due to Jared’s recovery.  It was to Jared himself and the intense connection which they had reestablished.  Far from being jealous they were all extremely pleased that she had finally found her joy.  None of them had ever really envisioned that their stay at the manor would be a life long circumstance.  They were just happy that the Lady had given them all the opportunity to discover and delve into their deepest identities, to develop and  to grow, and to understand.  And she had done so in caring and mutually fulfilling way.  In their hearts they would always be her slaves, but it was now time to move on, to reenter the world and to find their own individual and special ways, now confident and comfortable with who they were.

Michael was the first to leave and his was the easiest as he already spent most of his time working away from the manor.  Utilizing the strong reputation he had built in so successfully managing and marketing Deanna, and with her permission, he began to take on select new clients.  They were always women, all in the entertainment or media fields, and all had developed well earned reputations of being divas who were impossible to work with.  People in the field soon became amazed at how well Michael was able to manage these ‘difficult personalities’ and successfully advance their careers almost in spite of themselves.  He did it by always humbly and happily meeting each and every one of their often denigrating and humiliating demands.  Deanna remained his first and foremost patron and always treated him with appreciation and respect, which he would always cherish and covet.  But he was now able to further satisfy many of his other ‘needs’ with clients to whom he could continually cater and cower.

Thomas was the next to go.  With Deanna’s encouragement and financial seed money he set up his own landscaping business again.  This time, with endorsements from her to high end contacts she had in the publishing and media world in the area, he got several contracts, and through his own hard and quality work his business quickly grew, so much so that he rapidly became able to employ several crews at a time.  He still tended weekly to the manor which he always personally supervised, and insisted, despite Deanna’s protestations, to do so for free.

Living again on his own he began working out and weight lifting again in the evenings at a local fitness club.  There he soon became aware of a lady body builder who regularly worked out there as well.  One evening he dredged up the courage to offer to spot for her when she was lifting free weights, which she gratefully accepted and then did the same for him.  Her name was Maureen but she liked to be called Mo.  They quickly became lifting partners and rapidly became partners in other ways as well.  As they began to know each other so much better they discovered that they also had a deeply shared interest in bondage.  Having the more dominant personality, as he was submissive, she tended to enjoy binding more than being bound, but she did occasionally like to experience being restrained herself as long as it was by someone she could implicitly trust.  Together they explored more and more intricate and creative methods of confinement, and their shared passion in this and the trust it required and engendered soon flowered into other areas and it wasn’t long before the two of them became inseparable and figuratively bound at the hip.

It took both Jared and Deanna to finally convince Abel to take the plunge and pursue his long held dream of operating his own restaurant.  This of course would require a large financial stake, but both of them were more than willing to become silent minority partners, contributing enough resources to get him off the ground.  Abel would maintain majority ownership through his own sweat equity.  It wasn’t that he didn’t believe that he was a talented enough chef to be successful.  It was just that he wasn’t sure that he knew how or could run the other nitty gritty aspects of the business.  Michael assured him that he would help with marketing, but Abel needed someone he could rely on to manage the customers and wait staff while he did the cooking.

He put an ad out in the local papers and one of the first applicants to respond was a young woman named Gwen.  She had been a waitress at a club in the city for a number of years and was looking to advance herself as a restaurant manager.  To his great distress Abel immediately thought that he recognized her, and a quick check of the references she brought confirmed it.  She was the waitress who had served the Lady and Belle that night at the lesbian club.  He prayed that she wouldn’t somehow make the connection, but to his dismay and consternation she did begin to look at him more intently and strangely.

“Excuse me for asking.” she finally put forth.  “This might seem like a funny question, but do you have a sister who lives in the area.”

Abel blanched and began to lose his composure.  “A sister ... ah, no ... I’ve never ... had any sister ... never ... any one...”

Confused by his obvious distress to her rather innocuous question she gazed at him more closely.  Her eyes widened in surprise.  “No... I don’t believe it.” she exhaled.  “You’re her.  The one at the club that one night.”

Abel’s panicked silence and terrified look confirmed it all for her.

“I’m right then, aren’t I?  It’s unbelievable.”

“I think ... I think you should go.” was all he could manage to stammer out.

“No, you don’t understand.” she rushed to assure him.  “I’m Bi.  I mostly like guys but I can go both ways and I liked working at that club.  And you ... or the other you ... really turned me on that night and I think I immediately developed a bit of crush on you and kept hoping for weeks after that you’d come back without that Uber Femme you were with.  You’re not still with her, are you?”

Abel, still mostly speechless, could only slowly shake his head no.

“Good.” she said, sounding relieved.  “Excellent.  Look,” she continued in a bit of a frenzy, “It’s not about the job anymore.  I don’t care about the job anymore.  I’m kind of a take charge person and this is what you’re going to do.  You’re going to ask me out on a date.  You.  Maybe if you’d like I can meet the other you some other time, but only if you want.  It’s you I want to ask me out.  What do you say”

Overwhelmed and feeling like he had no choice, Abel did ask her out on a date.  That night.  And then another date, and another.  He even asked her to take the job as manager and hostess of his soon to be opened restaurant.  She accepted, and their two relationships, work and other, continued to grow until to his utter astonishment and thrill not two months later she moved in with him, promising that when their restaurant got off the ground they would move into larger accommodations.  It was only within these confines that Belle was finally encouraged and allowed to make appearances.

It wasn’t long thereafter that her namesake restaurant, ‘Belle’s’ opened to smashing reviews and a brisk business.  It soon became readily apparent that while it was Abel’s magic in the kitchen that drew people and kept them coming back, it was Gwen’s management skills that had the restaurant running like a fine machine and turning a healthy profit as well.  Abel occasionally expressed a desire to have Belle waitress now and then, but Gwen adamantly forbade it.  She did however often let Belle serve her at home.  While she was always happy and proud to showcase Abel to the outside world, Gwen made it abundantly clear that Belle was hers, and for her alone.

And, at the last, there was Edward.  He had been the first to approach Deanna with his own and the others’ desire to move on to find their own special places in life, and allow the Lady and Jared their space and privacy.  While Deanna appreciated and happily endorsed this for all the others and promised to help them in any way she could, she expressed concern about what Edward might plan to do.  She purposefully didn’t add ‘at his age’.  But he did so for her.

“ I don’t think you can ever truly know just how much the opportunity to finally experience and live what I had always dreamed about has meant to me, My Lady.  And I can never thank you enough for all of it.  But I do believe that the time has come for me to really retire from active service, and I’d like your permission to do so.”

“Of course Edward.  You know that.  But what will you do?”

“I’m very excited about some plans that I have to expand my blog with a kind of discussion and advice forum on real life issues and problems that arise and exist in the lifestyle.  Goddess knows I get a lot of private posts along these lines and I would like to make whatever small contribution to this that I’m able.”  He paused and offered a hopeful smile.  “And I would dearly love, and would consider it the highest honor, to have Lady D be an active contributor as well and even write an occasional guest column now and then.”

Deanna laughed.  “I think she’s be the one greatly honored and delighted.”  She then added.  “But only on three conditions.”

“Anything, My Lady.”

“First, that you stay with us until you help me get all of the others sorted and settled.”

“Of course, My Lady.”

“Second, that you will always continue to be my editor and literary mentor.”

“With the greatest of pleasure, My Lady.  And the third condition?”

Deanna smiled fondly and resolutely.  “That you no longer consider me your Lady, but rather as your most devoted and forever friend ... Deanna.”

Edward couldn’t help his eyes from watering.  “You will always be my Lady, My Lady ... but always so much more so my dearest friend ...Deanna.”

********

Deanna and Jared slowly settled into their new shared life together after all the others were gone.  He was finally back to full strength and almost full activities.  He would never be able to play baseball again but that had never been his intention in any event.  Though never explicitly stated nor specifically demanded, because he had far more experience and she very little ... and because they both innately understood that they needed it and it had to be so ...  Jared assumed the responsibilities for most of the domestic chores around the manor.  He even arranged to have some basic culinary instruction from Abel and before long he was a very competent cook as well.

Deanna got back to her writing with a vengeance and soon was able to complete her latest novel.  After so many struggles and false directions she was finally able to bring all the pieces together so that her villainous ‘hero’ became a true hero in the end, not only saving the heroine from real danger, but also from herself.  And to all of her readers’ enjoyment and satisfaction he became the lovable rogue they were all wishing for.  Critics hailed it as her most ambitious, fulfilling and signature work, and to no one’s surprise it became her biggest best seller to date.

They maintained close friendship and contact with all of the others.  As newcomers to the assemblage Mo and Gwen were initially very wary of Deanna.  Through their men they knew much about the former relationships, and though they both had naturally assertive personalities neither was truly a Domme.  They could soon readily see however that Deanna only had ‘eyes’ for Jared, and no designs on their men.  And more importantly they also came to realize that even though their men might always ‘adore’ Deanna, their love and devotion was now solely directed to them.  Eventually they became far more comfortable around and with Deanna, and even occasionally sought her council, which when freely asked she freely offered, about any of the wide variety of things they might do to keep their ‘boys’ in line.

As to their own special and other needs, Deanna and Jared reserved those for specific and increasingly elaborate and creative play times ... their Private Dance times.  These were always directed and controlled by Deanna, but were always anchored to reality to the rock that was Jared.  Both knew that they now had the best of both worlds, and they would never allow anything to ever threaten that again.

*********

Their wedding took place on a bright and slightly crisp autumn day at the manor.  As two well known public figures ... Deanna having become a somewhat mysterious, increasingly reclusive but wildly successful author, and Jared a former baseball star who had recently acquired a bit of a bad boy barroom brawling aura ... press attention to their nuptials was inevitable.  But Michael was adept in handling such PR issues.  He made it known that the wedding was to be small and private but he promised to everyone that they would get their needed ‘inside’ coverage information after the fact.  Thus he kept at a distance and controlled the media beast.

Thomas made sure that the grounds were immaculate, especially the areas for the ceremony and reception, which were beautifully festooned with flowers of all kinds. Abel planned, made and supervised the catering and hired all the necessary wait staff.  About fifty people were invited including a number of those in the publishing and entertainment fields with whom Deanna had become friendly through her books and film adaptations.  Jared had invited a number of old teammates and friends as well.  But their most special guests of course were their former ‘companions’ from the manor.

It was a simple and traditional wedding.  They were married by a local Justice of the Peace.  Edward served as Jared’s Best man, and Deanna, after asking Gwen’s permission which was gladly given, had Belle serve as her Maid of Honor.  It was a very festive and happy affair, and everyone in attendance noted how the groom continually doted on the bride, and how she could barely stand for any time for him to be out of her sight and not at her side.

And with permission from all of them readily granted, Edward, making sure to carefully mask names and locations as always, enthusiastically detailed and chronicled it all, both then and onward, for his ever expanding and ever hungry multitude of followers, on what had now become for all of them his must read blog.