The Vassal Academy Ch. 30

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"No problem Devon, I think I know just what you're looking for." Dominique said with a hint of wickedness seeping into her voice.

Devon hung up and took up his coffee cup. "Will you drive to the city?"

Ann was obviously considering. "Getting a bunch of packages on the train might be annoying. Driving might be more so."

"Parking in the shopping areas is always a pain." Devon agreed.

"We'll take the train." Ann decided. "We can always have the packages delivered tomorrow. That would give you a couple more days to get her used to being dressed before you leave."

Devon agreed and the conversation turned to training of the remaining slaves until Jeannette appeared wearing a floral print dress and the proscribed heels.

Devon took one look and shook his head. He tapped the speakerphone button again. Then he tapped the speed dial button for Dominique. She answered and he got right to business. "Dominique, we're going to have to give Jeannette a makeover. Can we do that before the weekend?"

"A makeover?" Dominique asked surprised.


"She just showed up in my office not wearing one bit of make up. Obeying my direct instructions, certainly, but not the intent." Devon said.

Jeannette looked horrified at the conversation. "A makeover Master?"

"Oh did she?" Dominique asked casually. "I'll talk to Elizabeth Arden, and see if we can get her in tomorrow. If I can, I'll keep her here in the city when I send Ann home."

"Thank you Dominique, I knew you would have a suggestion." Devon said casually.

"Master." Jeannette almost whined.

Devon stepped to her and in a low angry voice. "You know we're to travel to Houston this Friday. You know we are going to be representing this facility, and our work here. You know that the first impression is one that can't be redone, and skimped on. Yet, you purposely plan to embarrass me and this facility?"

"No Master." Jeannette said shocked.

"Jeannette, as of this moment. Right fucking now, you will wear what I tell you, you will look like a successful executive's secretary. You will look like the naughty executive secretary that Mistress Ann and I have discussed. You will wear clothing, including uncomfortable underwear. You will suffer wearing them because it presents the image I want to present for this facility. Is that understood slave?" Devon said quickly and without a hint of the normal tolerance he showed Jeannette.

Jeannette nodded her head and said deferentially. "Yes Master. I will do as you wish."

"Go with Mistress Ann, and help her select clothing that will present the image I want." Devon said quickly.

"Yes Master." Jeannette said quickly.

She turned and waited for Mistress Ann and then followed her out of the office towards the rear of the house.

Once on the train towards New York, Jeannette sat next to Ann and then finally giving in to her own questions asked. "Mistress? Is Master Devon angry with me?"

Ann temporized slightly. "Not really, he's just trying to get you to understand how important it is to present the proper image in the world."

Jeannette sighed. "I hate clothes."

"I know Jeannette." Ann said, but without any hint of sympathy in her tone. "Yet, look at me. I wear clothing that is comfortable, but presents the right image. So does Master Devon. Chef dresses like a Chef, and Josh has started to as well."

"A slave is supposed to be nude." Jeannette said with an air of petulance.

"No, a slave is supposed to obey her master, and wear what Master chooses for her." Ann corrected.

Jeannette looked at Ann surprised at this announcement. "Mistress, I've been a slave for nearly four years, I know what a slave is supposed to do, and we're supposed to be nude." Jeannette insisted.

Ann glanced at her, no sign of annoyance in her face. "Allow me to quote something an experienced slave said when I began this journey. 'Mistress, for a short while, I'll help guide your hand, and after a while, your hand will need no guidance.'"

Jeannette recognized her own words. She realized she'd just been told that Ann saw through her protests. She also realized that Ann would take Jeannette's advice into consideration, but would make a call based upon her own experiences and knowledge. Jeannette slumped slightly, accepting defeat.

Ann smiled slightly. "Jeannette, you're the most accomplished slave in the world. You're a slave who does everything out of love. Now, we're telling you to wear clothing, and present yourself to make us all proud. This can be done with love too."

"Mistress." Jeannette began. Then she sighed. "Clothes are what free people wear. I don't want to be free."

"You're not." Ann said simply. "You're a slave. You'll wear what we tell you, when we tell you. Don't think you're going to be lounging around in sweats and eating candy brought to you on silver platters. Your clothing will probably be stained with semen from the Masters reminding you what you are at heart."

Jeannette let out a small laugh. "Mistress, I really don't want to be dressed all the time."

Ann waved it away. "I don't care." She turned and looked at Jeannette. "You've taught me Jeannette, I am to command a slave. This is starting to feel like a negotiation. We aren't negotiating. If I tell you to wear a thong, an uncomfortably tight bra, stockings, and heels under a dress then you'll do it or by God you will safe word. Is that understood slave?"

"Yes Mistress." Jeannette said seriously.

"If I tell you to wear a flimsy negligee to attend to Master Devon, you'll do it."

"Yes Mistress."

Ann sat back and glanced at the window. "Any more of this petulant princess bullshit today, and I'll buy you a nuns habit from a costume shop, and you'll wear woolen long johns under it."

"Yes Mistress." Jeannette said. She sighed once, and realized that serving Master now included wearing clothing. She knew this day was coming, but she didn't like it any more than she had months ago.

Ann didn't relent. "Clothing doesn't mean freedom, it means you are serving Master. It's not your nudity that makes you a slave; it's your heart. Master can see that if it's wrapped in lace or not."

"Yes Mistress." Jeannette agreed. She knew Ann was right, and that her duty to Master meant doing what she was told, to the best of her ability.

Ann rode in silence and after changing trains to a subway that would let them out near Dominique's office they rode together and finally climbed the stairs exiting the subway to the street. A block later, and Ann guided Jeannette to the right building, and then to the right floor.

The Receptionist told them to go on back, and Ann found Dominique in her office. Ann greeted the President of the Corporation and then got to business. "So will Elizabeth Arden take care of her?"

"Yes. Tomorrow morning, at nine." Dominique stood and reached for her purse. "Little Jeannette is going to be coiffed and buffed to within an inch of her life."

Jeannette didn't reply, none was required.

They entered the first store on Dominique's list Agent Provocateur. Dominique found a sales woman and dove right in. "Sheila? Good. This is Jeannette. I want her outfitted with a complete set of slut Lingerie."

Sheila blinked for a moment and looked at Jeannette for a reaction. Jeannette looked at her with no objection evident on her face. "Uh. Yes Ma'am."

Ann jumped in next. "Give her Bra's that will shove her tits towards her throat, shelf style, demi cup, the whole nine yards."

"Garters and stockings of course Ann." Dominique added.

"Of course, with designs to let everyone know that her legs will open upon request."

Sheila looked between them and smelled a big sale, if a strange one. "Uh, Ladies, I'm not sure what we're talking about."

Dominique smiled at her patiently. "Undergarments. Uncomfortable, and revealing."

"No strange colors, no bright pink, or glow in the dark nonsense." Ann said with equal firmness.

Sheila looked at Jeannette and after a moment of getting no objection shrugged and said. "OK, let's get you measured Jeannette is it?"

"Yes Miss." Jeannette said.

Ten minutes later, her measurements were known, and recorded for future reference. Jeannette tried on a bra over a very light shirt, to prevent her skin from soiling the material.

She stepped out and showed it to Dominique and Ann. "No, not quite what we're looking for." Dominique said. She stepped to the rack and selected one. "This one should do."

This one would leave little to the imagination if it were seen. The nipples would be almost completely revealed, and the under wire would support her breasts.

The rest of the selection process went pretty much the same, with Dominique and Ann selecting more uncomfortable and revealing undergarments and finally deciding that they had enough for now.

Ann gave the address and ordered everything to be delivered right away. "Overnight it, and if you substitute anything, I will know, because it will be inspected upon arrival."

Next they visited a store that sold Gowns, and dresses for evening wear. Selecting two of each, Jeannette again modeled the clothing and finally found suitable dresses for herself, suitable for Dominique's and Ann's purposes anyway.

The dresses in question would more likely be worn by strippers than actual dates to a social event in the city, but Jeannette didn't object. Her body belonged to Master, not herself, and if he wished to clothe it this way, it was his choice.

Again demanding that it be tailored to fit today and shipped tomorrow, for overnight delivery, Ann forked over the corporate credit card.

Dominique took them to a small bistro for lunch. Turning to Ann she said. "What did you say to Jeannette to keep her from objecting while we bought all those clothes?"

Ann took a bite from the sandwich and then wiped her mouth before responding. "Jeannette? Oh what would I have to say to her to get her to act like a slave and obey her Master?"

Jeannette glanced at Ann, and realized as she did she looked guilty to Dominique's knowing eyes.

Dominique not being fooled in the least answered her own question. "Whatever it was, it appears to have worked. I expected more objections from her. Perhaps even some begging to be allowed to continue being nude."

Ann glanced at Dominique before turning her gaze towards the window as she ate.

Jeannette held her head down, trying to understand. Usually, the Master's shared information and reported on whole days of activity without even considering withholding any information. Yet, Mistress Ann was withholding the conversation on the train from Mistress Dominique. What Jeannette didn't understand, was why would Mistress Ann withhold this information. Ann like Devon, had shown a tendency to withhold trivial details, and did she consider the objections that Jeannette had raised to be trivial?

The rest of the afternoon was spent as the morning had been. Traveling to shops around the city, and then finding clothing that would suit Devon's intent for Jeannette.

Business attire was included, and it was as tight and revealing as the other choices had been. For casual attire, denim and cotton skirts to be worn with tight low cut t-shirts.

In Houston at lunchtime, Victor Kolich sat across from Dorothy (Dot) Menendez and filled her in on the details of the information he needed. "Dot, as I said, this is strictly personal, not for the company."

Dot Menendez was a freelance private investigator. A client had once introduced her to another potential client while she was getting a different briefing. "If that woman should ever want to know something about you, just tell her. It will save her some effort, because she will find out anyway." Dot was very good, and very expensive because of it. She was also absolutely discrete. In answer to the implied question. "No problem Mr. Kolich, I'll just send the bill to you instead of accounts payable."

Victor nodded. "I need a number traced, and I need all the information you can get as quickly as possible, by tonight, the morning at the latest, you can give me on the owners of the number."

Dot raised an eyebrow. "Rush job? Ok. There might be some holes in what I can find." Dot jotted the number in her book and then stood up. "If you'll excuse me, I'd like to get started."

She began with a simple search program, the reverse lookup website came back negative. So it wasn't a listed number, no surprise there. Most weren't. Dot then started the more in depth search program, and it had a hit. The number was listed on a government form that was online as part of the open records acts in many states. Dot flagged the form and opened it.

She printed the form and then began to search from there. In four hours she was scowling at the computer screen and actually annoyed. These people were paranoid as hell. The company Vanutick holdings was a shadow company, existing merely to give a lawyer something to do in the Cayman Islands. Then he was in fact, owned by another company out of Switzerland. That company ended at the door to Credit Suisse Bank.

Dot began to search for people who filed corporate reports listing Vanutick Holding's as an asset, and came up empty. Dot scowled even deeper. No publicly traded company listed it as a company that they held stock in? Not one? Who in the hell owned them?

Dot worked until past midnight, finally giving up and returning home from her office. She had secured the computer, and scrubbed the data after encrypting it.

Dot didn't have much to show the next morning, but requested an appointment anyway. She briefed Victor and handed him the documents she had been able to find.

"They're how hidden?" Victor asked to confirm what he had just been told.


"They're ghosts. I mean they are really hidden. Right in plain sight. The link from the US is from a law firm in Manhattan. That goes to the Cayman Islands, and dead ends with a lawyer there who tells people to shove their requests up their asses. That lawyer is apparently owned according to stock filings by another company that goes to Switzerland. That one ends at the bank Credit Suisse. They as you know, don't tell anyone anything about anything. There's nothing else online."

"Dot, this isn't much." Victor said.

"There isn't much to give you. I can tell you that the number goes to a house and that house is owned by this Vassal Academy LLC. That company is wholly owned by Vanutick Holdings, and that is wholly owned by FPVS Investments which has as a point of contact at Credit Suisse. I didn't bother to call either the Cayman's or Credit Suisse because it would have led nowhere."

"What about public records?" Victor asked.


"Searched that too. No one lists them as part of a public disclosure of assets. No company owns any of their stock, no investment group lists them as stocks held. Nobody owns them." Dot said. "It's like they're there, but they're not."

"What about the house?" Victor asked.

"Licensed to run as a short term live in school. Some sort of finishing school I guess." Dot answered and then hesitated a moment. "Sir, with more time, I could travel to New York and try to find some more information."

Victor shook his head. "No, that's not really needed." He was frowning as he considered.

"Sir, I'm not sure why you need this information, is there another way I could help you?" This was as far as she could go asking what the hell this was all about.

Victor shrugged. "I was contacted regarding some personal information, information I thought was unknown. I was afraid that it was a competitor trying to establish a back channel for blackmail. I don't believe that's the case now."

"So you're satisfied with the information I got?" Dot asked confused.

"Yes. If it was a competitor, then they would not have gone to this much trouble. Thank you Ms. Menendez, I will be expecting your bill." Victor said simply ending the conversation, and her interest.

"Sure thing Mr. Kolich. I'll send it to you in a few days." Dot said as she stood to go. The questions that were nagging at her, who were these Vassal Academy people, started to fade. In a few hours, they wouldn't even be a blip on her conscious thought; she wasn't paid to chase ghosts.

Sitting back behind his desk, he looked at the scanty collection of documents. If this was all that Dot Menendez could find, then they were just as discrete as was alluded to on the web. It was the Vassal Academy, and Devon wanted to speak to him. Why? Well that question could be answered by returning the phone call.

A knock on his office door interrupted his thoughts as he shifted back to his job. The Vice President in charge of Operations stuck his head in. "Victor? I just got an update on the Manassa. She's now making seven knots and the Captain says that they expect to reach LA a week late, but under their own power. The Engineer says that the repairs will take another six days at the dock, how do we want to arrange repairs?"

"Do they need to completely unload the ship to get the parts in?" Victor asked next. The engines on ships were huge things. They dwarfed their nearest cousins, the engines on a train.

Shaking his head Jeff said. "Nope. The Captain said they need a new bearing on the main shaft and a new oil pump. Apparently the oil pump didn't lubricate this one enough, and it's vibrating pretty bad. The Engineer rigged some sort of dampener to keep it from screwing up the seals for the shaft."

Victor nodded. "OK, let's unload all the cargo we can in LA first. Then get the yard in San Pedro to be standing by to repair the drive. Look at shipping as much of it by rail as we can, so we can cancel the rest of the West Coast stops."

"Already on it." Jeff said as he turned to go.

Victor returned to his work, glancing at the clock. It was too early to return Devon's call on the east coast.

Jeannette woke and stretched on the bed in Dominique's spare room in her Apartment. They had eaten dinner together with Mistress Ann and then Ann had returned to the Academy.

The conversation had been light, and casual. Dominique had instructed Jeannette to get to bed on time, because she had an appointment early. "I don't want them to call in the experts to get rid of the dark circles under your eyes, so you're not coming with me tonight slave." Dominique had then left and gone to the clubs.

Jeannette had gone to bed, and then woken up to a sound in the apartment. She peeked around the corner, and saw something that surprised her. Mistress Dominique was laying on the table while a man with dark hair licked at her cunt. Mistress was talking to the man. "Theo, if you can't manage to pleasure me, I'll torture your needy cock for an hour or more."

Jeannette returned to bed, and deciding that Mistress would want some privacy, she closed her own door. After falling back to sleep, she woke to the alarm on time. She showered and quietly managed to fix herself a light breakfast, and then dressed in her new casual clothing, which according to Mistress Ann is what low rent sluts wear, she departed to follow her instructions and suffer the indignity of a full makeover.

Devon was at breakfast and highlighting the training that was expected today, and then insured that all the staff knew of the slaves activities, and then he went to the office to find Diane bustling about to make things perfect for him.

He opened the Wall Street Journal and began to read about the world, from the point of view of how it impacted business. There were two additional papers on his desk, the NY Times, and local Stamford Advocate.

He read the Times of London online. In twenty minutes he had finished scanning the newspapers, not really reading them cover to cover, but more along the lines of glancing at each story, and reading the first paragraph or two, and then glancing at the rest of the story.