48 Hours on Blue Bayou Pt. 50: Niamh

48 Hours on Blue Bayou, Part 50 Niamh

Niamh gets a ticket to ride

Author's Note: Welcome Back, Dear Readers! After many delays tossed at your author by Real Life, the tale of Niamh's enslavement continues. Warning! There are some surprises in this Part, and we hope you enjoy them. As usual, we look forward to your Comments.

Taliesin1

Chapter 169: Martin and Niamh

Niamh was sleeping restlessly in the great bed in Martin's apartment. She reached out for him but he was not there. Martin had gone on a business trip the day before. Unusually, rather than using a commercial flight, he had taken the small executive jet, the same one that had brought Niamh to Hong Kong, though she didn't know that, and that now was somewhat more comfortably appointed.

He travelled to the airport by helicopter to avoid the now daily demonstrations in Hong Kong. Niamh had been allowed to farewell him on the rooftop Heliport. "I have been sorting out some important things, which need to be done face to face," he had said.

Niamh wished he would take her with him. Their relationship had subtly changed to something, more intense, but also more domestic, since Martin had purchased her as his personal slave. She thought that Martin treated her more like a partner than a slave, though she was careful not to assume too much. She hoped that there could be a future for their relationship. Oh, God how I love him. I am more his slave now than ever I was!

When Martin was with her, they would go to the Gym together every morning. Martin set the alarm for six o'clock, which Niamh had thought altogether too early, but she had become used to his routine and even enjoyed it. Now, when he was absent, he had not left her any orders and she was not under any other discipline, beyond the need to turn out for work during the day.

She usually did go to the Gym because she knew Martin would want her to. Even if he said nothing, she would sense his disapproval. She could use a personal trainer; it was the same man who had trained her when she had first become a slave at The Enterprises and had been amused by her daring comment about training for the Olympics. He encouraged her through much the same routine, but she noted that now he never used his crop on her.

This was Martin's eighth trip in as many weeks, and that was an astounding number for someone who rarely travelled. People came to see Martin; he didn't go to see them. Once he had gone with Edward, but usually he went alone for one or two days. Another time he had taken Anne and was away for three days. That time, Niamh had sulked and worked herself into a crying fit. She told herself that Anne was a beautiful woman, more experienced, sophisticated, and nearer in age to Martin. She had also once been Martin's First Lady.

Niamh was jealous.

The Enterprises were going through a period of rapid changes. Sally had left many weeks ago for Paris. She was to head the Holding Company that unified Martin's interests in the European Union. Julie was waiting for her Master, Igor, to come for her, and she was busy learning the skills she needed to take her place in his new enterprise. Pat was also gone. One of Martin's colleagues had made her a proposal (or perhaps proposition was the correct word) and she had accepted it, with Martin's blessing.

At least the disruption had modified Niamh's banishment from the Executive suite and she was able to spend some time with Anne and Fifteen, who had taken on more of the administration of the top floor. Once, she guiltily confessed to Anne that she had the feeling that her bad behaviour had sparked off all of these changes. But Anne told her that Martin had been thinking about changes for a long time.

"I believe he thought Julie would be 'The One,' but that didn't work out as expected. When you came along, it was obvious that he was fascinated by you, and you show all the signs of being devoted to him."

Now, alone in his bed, she craved his touch. Her hand slid down between her legs, a finger slipped into her moistening slit, then guiltily she snatched it away. Her pleasure belonged to her Master, not to herself. Niamh sighed and rolled over onto her stomach, her cheek resting on her hands. For a few moments she lay still, trying to slow and control her breathing. Unable to relax, she arched her back and pressed her mound into the sheets.

Would he record me in his bedroom?

She squirmed some more, then rolled onto her back, spreading her legs. If he would, then I'll put on a good show.

Niamh's hands roamed all over her body. She started at her forehead, stroking her cheeks, lips and earlobes. She imagined Martin's hands touching her, his lips caressing her eyelids, nibbling her earlobes and her neck. She moved down to her breasts, massaging and pinching the nipples until they stood erect.

She wanted to go slowly, to heighten her arousal, but she could not long resist the urge to dip a hand down to her bare mound. She rubbed all around, feeling no stubble at all. Daily shaving had become her habit. Two fingers brushed over her labia, while her other hand traced a circuit from below her navel to her breasts, left and right.

Niamh sighed. She had been holding her breath, the better to visualise Martin's face above her. She parted her legs some more. Twisting her knees. Opening herself. One finger slipped between her lips on the wetness which was leaking out. "Mmmm," she sighed again, dipping into her vaginal canal, holding back from the little key to pleasure. That would come soon enough.

Abruptly, Niamh closed her legs and turned onto her belly. Had she heard a noise? Was there someone in the room? She raised her head a little, listening. But there was only the soft hiss of the air conditioning and the faint murmurs from the city outside.

Guilty conscience, she thought.

Almost, she stopped, but her finger was still inside her, sending signals of pleasure to her core. She rolled onto her side and slipped a finger of her other hand into her anus. All her nerves were zinging as she moved the fingers together and rocked her pelvis to the ancient rhythm of sex. Her breath became shallower. Niamh tried to conjure Martin in her imagination but she could not hold him. The image blurred. She blocked out everything but the stroking of her fingers. Faster. Slower. Longer. Shorter.

Her climax came with a frightful intensity. She called out for Martin, bit down on the pillow and moaned. Almost, she had forgotten to breathe.

As she came down, she breathed deeply, relaxed, until finally, she slept.

Chapter 170: Butterfly Collection?

Anne called Niamh to say that the Empress had been taken ill. She asked Niamh to go up to Reception. Excusing herself to Jane, Niamh hurried to the lift and ascended to the top floor. Julie arrived almost immediately after.

Anne told them that the Empress had collapsed in her study, and had been rushed to hospital. Both Julie and Niamh wanted to go to see her straight away.

Anne said, "Butterfly went with the ambulance, and she has been sitting at her bedside. She has been passing on news of the Empress' condition to all of her friends and associates. She is not allowed visitors, and I can only imagine how Butterfly has avoided eviction."

Niamh thought of the meagre amount of her allowance she had saved. "Can we send some flowers from the two of us?" She had no idea if Igor had left Julie an allowance.

"We will send flowers from The Enterprises," Anne replied. "And since you two have been working closely with her most recently, I want you to sign the card and perhaps a personal message."

Anne had provided a selection of cards, and after some friendly banter, they agreed on the one to send. They both signed and wrote messages.

After three days, the Empress had been allowed to go home, but she was merely stabilised, far from cured. Butterfly was, as always, efficient but when she called Niamh her anxiety was plain in her voice.

"My Mistress asks for you and Julie to come for Tea," she said. "There will be only a small group of ladies."

"Oh, but I'm not a lady," said Niamh, "Just Martin's slave!"

Butterfly laughed nervously. "There are slaves, and there are Important Slaves, my dear Niamh, and Martin's First Lady is one of the latter. Mostly there will be First Ladies, Mistresses and very few wives."

The date was set for the next day. A car was sent to pick up Niamh and Julie. It went by a circuitous route to avoid the now almost continuous demonstrations disrupting the city. They were received by the Butler, with Butterfly close behind. She led them to the small sitting room, where the Empress was ensconced in state. Julie and Niamh curtseyed, but the Empress beckoned them forward, indicating that they should kiss her on the cheek.

"It seems such a long time since you young ladies have lightened my life." she said, and they were both struck by the way her voice quavered. "Come and tell me all that you have been doing."

Niamh and Julie looked at each other, suspecting that the Empress knew very well the different turmoils they had been through. Niamh was the first to confess her transgression.

"Oh, my Empress, it was terrible. I completely lost control when I was told that Julie had been sold," she blushed, "and I broke position ... and I threw a statuette at Martin."

The Empress tried to inject a note of surprise into her voice. "I see Julie is still here, so this must have been an internal sale? Please tell me more. Julie, I hope you are happy with your new Master."

What a question! Slaves don't get to decide on "happiness" and certainly not anything about their Master, Julie thought. But the Empress had arched an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

"Please, my Empress," she managed, "Igor, my new Master, treats me well. As with my recent Master, I lack for nothing essential. Thank you, Ma'am."

The Empress rocked in laughter, ending in a small coughing fit. Niamh had joined her, but Butterfly was looking simply shocked. The Empress finally observed, "My dear Julie, that has to be the most outlandish answer I've gotten to any question since they swooped me off to that hospital. Now, tell me exactly about Igor, that handsome devil."

Julie blushed, but knew this perceptive woman would brook no airy nothings. "Please, Ma'am, my Master is constantly in my thoughts, and I'm working with several departments at The Enterprises to be ready for whatever he will require of me when he returns."

The Empress was not to be put off. "And what do you think he will 'require of you when he returns'?"

Julie's blush deepened and the Empress, Niamh, and Butterfly all joined in laughter. "Yes, of course, he's just a man. But, what then? What do you see for yourself after that?"

It was a new question. Julie had simply accepted that, as her Master's slave, she would work at whatever tasks he gave her. Now, the Empress' questions made her think the kinds of thoughts she had not thought since her days at her old law office, when she had been a free woman.

"Please, my Empress, I haven't dared to think that way for so very long. I hope to be more than just a handmaiden for my Master, but I haven't looked into the future very far."

The Empress nodded. "Very well, young lady. But you must keep me informed about your Master's new enterprise and, even more, about your future. Am I clear on this?"

Julie wasn't exactly sure what the Empress was asking — no, demanding — but she bent her head in submission and promised that she would keep the Empress "informed," whatever that meant.

The Empress now turned to Niamh. "And you, my dear, how do you stand after your outburst? I would not have imagined Martin had taken that lightly."

Now Niamh was put on the spot. Slaves never really know how they stand, she thought, they are either indulged, or find themselves on the auction block.

"Empress, I hardly know what will happen to me. I, too, was sold from The Enterprises, but my Master has purchased me as his personal slave." She paused, struggling to get her emotions under control. "He treats me very well, but I am mostly confined to his apartment, except when I am working in the Marketing department. He often travels now, and I know he is planning something, but I have no idea what it could be."

The Empress nodded, holding Niamh with her gaze. "I will be wanting to hear from you as well as from Julie."

Other ladies arrived, some of them bringing flowers, which Butterfly arranged around the room. The Enterprises' bouquet already held pride of place. They all spent a lot of time wishing the Empress a speedy recovery before they moved on to the daily protests which were disrupting Hong Kong and finally the delicious gossip which was their main obsession. Niamh noticed that the Empress was not attending to the news, with her usual acuteness seeming distracted.

As the afternoon closed, with Butterfly clearing away the Tea things, the ladies prepared to leave, but the Empress gestured for Niamh and Julie to stay for a few more moments.

"My dears," she said, "I am very aware that I don't have long to live — No, don't protest. I have had a long life and I will not be sorry to miss the next developments. But I do want to ask you a favour, whichever of you now has the most influence with Martin."

"I think that would be Niamh," said Julie, "But I'm sure we will both do our best in any way." Niamh nodded assent.

"Thank you. I have arranged most of my affairs as well as I can, but I am worried about Butterfly. I would like Martin to take her on. I think that would be the best outcome for her."

Niamh said, "I will do all that I can, but really, couldn't she just be free?"

"That would be easy for you, or for Julie, because you know how to be free, but Butterfly has been a slave nearly all her life. She would find it difficult and frightening to be a free person."

Chapter 171: Martin Returns

Niamh stood on the roof of The Enterprises building along with Anne, Edward and two men from the Concierge Department. A sea breeze stirred her dress as she gazed towards Lantau island. The view was deceptively rural; Chep Lap Kok, Hong Kong's airport, was hidden from view behind Lantau, and the towers of Central and Kowloon were tucked out of sight behind the ridge that flowed down from the Peak. The humid air and the great clouds building up in China beyond promised rain. A tiny dot detached itself from the sky, grew rapidly and revealed itself as the helicopter bearing her Master, Martin, home.

They landed in a flurry of rotors that blew out the waiting parties' hair, pressed Niamh's dress tightly against her body and caused her eyes to water from the dust disturbed. At least, that was what she told herself.

Martin was first off the plane followed by Pat. He shook Edward's hand, kissed Anne on the cheek and then opened his arms to encompass Niamh.

"I missed you," she simply said.

He stroked her back. "I missed you, too."

While the concierge crew dealt with their luggage, the rest of the party descended to the Executive suites on the floor below. Martin kept his arm around Niamh.

Anne and Pat grinned at each other as Martin said. "I think I'm feeling a bit 'jet lagged,' so I'll go and lie down for a bit. See you all in the morning."

As the door closed behind them, Martin and Niamh fell together into a moving embrace that lead them to the bedroom. They undressed each other on the way, and settled into that mutual activity that served to remove their respective tensions, "jet lag" for him and "separation" for her.

Afterwards, Niamh lay relaxed in the crook of Martin's arm. He stroked a breast and then his hand moved down. His fore-finger circled her navel, in ever widening circles, until he reached her slit. She parted her legs enough for Martin to slip his finger in, working on her clitoris. Niamh sighed, lifting her pelvis to increase the friction.

As Martin continued, he spoke, at first almost to himself. "I've been thinking of lots of things recently. I'm over forty now and I have achieved almost everything I wanted to achieve." Now he was certainly speaking to Niamh. She became alert and his serious tone grabbed her attention.

"The situation in Hong Kong has become more volatile, as you know. It is something I have long predicted and that was part of the reason I have been taking all these trips."

He chuckled, "I know you have been upset by my frequent absences, but now everything is in place."

"Do you think the PLA will take over Hong Kong?" Niamh asked anxiously.

"That is possible, but I don't think it will end that way. China still finds Hong Kong useful as a financial and trade centre, and she doesn't need to invade to bring Hong Kong to heel. The city is something like seventy-five percent dependent on energy generation external to itself, and ninety percent dependent on food sources outside, mostly from the Mainland. With lights and power gone, and no food, Hong Kong could be shut down in a matter of days.

"No, the real reason is that I have decided that I want to pull back from directly running The Enterprises — maybe relax and enjoy myself more. I have been meeting with lawyers and bankers, with the aim of restructuring The Enterprises. The company has become too complex for one person to control. Though I will still be Chairman, I will take the company public, which means I'll have to wind up all the slavery business. Most of the slaves can be freed and integrated into the business, and they will receive a rather generous bonus to help them adjust. Some will have to be sold though, as they would be too dangerous to free."

He paused.

"I would like to have children, too, for their own sake of course, but also to pass all of this down to."

Niamh's heart started to race, seeming almost to want to burst out of her chest. This is it, she thought, he has met someone he loves. He will send me away, or sell me most probably. How can I stand it! Now she was alert and looking directly at him, meeting his gaze.

"Niamh, I want you to be the mother of those children."

Suddenly, everything changed. He does want me. Does he love me? But he has never said it. I suppose this is the closest to a proposal I'm likely to get. Niamh laid her head on Martin's chest. She was quiet and still for so long that he wondered if she had fallen asleep.

"You would be free," he said.

Still, she said nothing for more than a minute. Martin feared that she might refuse. It was not something he had considered. So be it, she will be free whatever happens.

Niamh sensed his unease and was not displeased by it. She knew that she would accept, for a slave is a thing, a possession, and will do anything to be a person again. Besides, hadn't she just told herself that she loved him.

At last she spoke. "Martin. My Master. Because that's how I think of you. I hardly know what to say. Part of me wants to be angry with you. But I can't. You have enslaved me, exploited me, but another part tells me I have never felt so safe, so content, yes, so happy. At first, I could not understand Anne and Pat, for their loyalty, or why Sally opted to be your permanent slave. But now I know. Free or not free, I will always be your slave. Martin, I will bear your children, but do not send me away."

All of the tension was relieved. Martin kissed her on the mouth and eased her off his chest. Suddenly hard again, he felt for the warmth between her legs.

Niamh squealed. Playful again, she purred, "Are we starting already?"

He laughed, "You are just overdue for your monthly contraceptive, so we might as well."