A Taste of Slavery Ch. 07

Julia disappeared in the bedroom. I was unconcerned she'd try removing it without my permission. I'd get an alert if she tried to do so. I called Jerry, my second in command and the guy I most trusted to run my business in my absence.

"Hey, Jerry, how's everything going?"

"On the whole, everything's going great, with the exception of the Watkins' residence."

"What's going on with the Watkins now?" Most likely it was Mrs. Watkins. She changed her mind as often as a flying bumblebee changed directions. Every change cost money, but if her husband was willing to pay for the changes, she could make as many as she wanted.

"She thinks the pillar we have for the balcony overhanging the family room is too big. Takes away from the appearance it's floating," Jerry said.

"It's load bearing. It has to support the whole damn thing." Shit! I suppose we could put in a metal column. "We could go smaller with metal."

"I suggested that. She doesn't like the appearance of a metal beam, she wants wood. It just has to be smaller, no bigger than 3x3, not the 8x8 we need for the support. I hate to disturb your vacation, but I think you need to talk to her."

Jerry knew I hadn't left town. We were still scheduled to play poker tomorrow night. This was more of a staycation. He didn't know it was to play with my new slave girl, but he knew I was doing something with my wife. How annoying could Mrs. Watkins get, willing to sacrifice the strength and integrity of her house for appearance? The building inspector would never approve of a 3x3 wood beam. What a royal pain in the ass.

As soon as I got off the phone, I looked at the specs and plans again. No fucking way a 3x3 wood beam was going to support the balcony. It wouldn't have the structural integrity. I called the Watkins.

Might as well start with the Missus. Web Watkins would probably go along with whatever Glenda wanted. He usually did.

"Glenda Watkins please," I said.

"Speaking."

"Jerry said you're having a problem with the support beam for the balcony."

"Yes, it needs to be smaller."

"It can't be any smaller without being steel and Jerry said you want a wood beam."

"I do."

"A wood beam that small can't support the weight of the balcony, Mrs. Watkins. It would never pass inspection by the building inspector. It's unsafe."

"I've seen unsupported balconies at opera houses and movie theaters," she insisted.

"It's an entirely different structure, Mrs. Watkins. The supporting walls are steel and concrete, not wood. An unsupported balcony on your house would tear down both of the supporting walls. There needs to be some sort of support in the middle, or the whole thing comes toppling down like a stack of cards."

"Can't you build it like that?"

"I could, but it would mean tearing down everything we've done so far and starting over. You'd be paying for a whole new house on top of whatever else we've already done. The only thing you wouldn't pay for would be the foundation and I'm not even sure of that. It might require a thicker foundation to go with steel and poured concrete walls. You agreed to the plans when we first put this house together. Why change everything else we've done now?"

"I don't like the look of it. It looks too big, thick and stupid."

I pounded my forehead with my hand. Shit! I hoped I could talk Web into not making the changes. The cost alone would turn most men's heads, but Web had money to burn and he might go along with the fucking changes no matter what the cost. The sooner I could finish this job and be done with the Watkins, the better I'd like it. Talk about someone who could use a couple weeks of sex slavery to get her off her fucking pedestal, Glenda would be my top choice. She even looked pretty good. Speaking of sex slaves, Julia came back into the room, apparently unable to sleep because she hadn't been gone that long and she still looked wired. I pointed to the ground at my feet and she knelt down and waited for me to finish.

"Could I speak to Web, please."

"You know he's going to agree with me. Just make the changes."

"Ma'am, even if he does agree to the changes, it's going to cost him a lot of money. I need to get his approval before I start to tear everything down. I probably can't get him a final figure now without consulting an engineer, but I should damn well give him a rough estimate."

"One moment please."

"Thank you."

A couple minutes later and Webley was on the phone. Webley. No matter he did whatever his wife told him to, stuck with a name like that.

"Web here."

"Has Jerry spoken to you about what Glenda wants him to do?"

"Yes, he has."

"We can't pass building inspection trying to use a 3X3 wood beam. It won't support the balcony as needed. Yet she insists. To do what she wants would probably mean tearing up everything we've done so far and starting from scratch. You've already got approximately $60k in materials and labor invested in the house. That all gets trashed if we start over and the new construction will probably substantially increase the price of the house. The types of walls she's talking about will cost more than the wood frame walls we have now and the foundation may have to be strengthened to support new, heavier walls. I know you can probably afford what she wants to do, but isn't there a limit as to how much you want to spend to build a house of this size. For the amount we're talking about, you could probably have built something twice the size. Yet this house won't be any bigger, just more expensive."

"I like to keep my wife satisfied, Mr. Rivers. It makes my life so much easier."

"I like to keep my wife satisfied as well, Mr. Watkins, but there are limits as to what I'm able to do." Julia smiled at that, recognizing my double entendre intended for her.

"I don't have many limits, Scott; at least as far as money goes. If she wants to change it, go ahead and change it."

"Okay. I'll have an engineer check over everything and get back to you as to the new price."

"Fine." Click.

"What seems to be the problem, Master?"

"Glenda Watkins doesn't like the size of the beam to hold up her balcony. It needs an 8x8 wood beam to be structurally sound. A 3x3 tempered steel beam would do the job, but she doesn't want a steel beam, she wants wood. I'm probably going to have to tear down everything and start from scratch. I'm almost ready to tell them to get another builder. I've never had such a pain in the ass client before. I'd just as soon be done with the whole thing."

"What if you used the steel beam and boxed it with laminated wood, or whatever material would make her happy, Master. Theoretically, you could use anything from tile, to mirrors to marble. It would look like what she wants and still be structurally sound."

I looked at her in amazement. What a fucking brilliant idea. I kissed her. "I knew there was a reason I married you besides your stunning good looks."

She smiled happily. "I'm glad I could be of service sir."

"You just earned yourself a fucking hour respite from the Trainer the next time I cum."

"Your slave would find such a respite most welcome, Master."

"I take it you couldn't sleep?"

"No, Master. It's hard to sleep when you're cumming. Speaking of which, do you think you'll be able to cum again soon."

"Let me call Jerry and get him started on your brilliant idea. I'll probably have to go to work tomorrow and see if I can't convince the Watkins to accept your plan. Probably need to get an early start, put together some different materials for the boxing, so she could see her choices."

"I'm sorry you'll have to work, Master. I've enjoyed our time together."

"Me too, my beautiful slave. I'm so glad I suggested this to you and even more happy you accepted the challenge."

I called Jerry back and told him everything I'd discussed with the Watkins and Julia's idea. Jerry was as enthusiastic as I was. He had to deal with the Watkins more than I did as the supervisor of their construction. By the time I was finished, it was close to supper time. I asked Julia if she'd like to order delivery again or if we should prepare our food here.

"Would I be naked, sir, and would you do things to me in front of them again?"

"Slaves shouldn't know what's on the mind of their Masters. Everything should be open and anything might happen."

She smiled at me. "I would prefer we prepare our own food then, Master."

"As you wish. One other question. I'm probably able to cum again. Would you like to do it now before supper so you can eat in peace, or after we eat so you can try to nap again."

"Eating without orgasms sounds pleasant to me, Master. Let's have sex now."

"Mouth or ass?"

She looked at me with a sly smile on her face. "The previous time you used my ass, I saw stars, Master. I would not be averse to stars again."

"You mean when you roused the whole neighborhood?"

Julia blushed and said, "Yes, sir."

"Find your lubricant and meet me in the bedroom."

Julia rose gracefully to her feet and scurried off to find it. I was naked and in the bedroom when she returned. My cock wasn't completely hard yet, but well on its way. Three minutes in her mouth took care of the rest. I was continuously amazed at how having a lovely wanton slave doing my bidding around kept my libido going. I was almost 33 and fucking like a teenager. It was almost like exploring sex with a completely different woman. Julia was being kept in a state of perpetual cumming by the Slave Trainer, so she didn't require foreplay. On the other hand...

JULIA

"I want you to prepare my cock and your ass for fucking," Master said.

"Master?" I questioned.

"Put lube on my cock and your asshole," I responded. "I'd like to see you play with it."

"I can't see it," I said. "I might miss when I try to put lube on."

"You can feel around for it. I'm sure you have enough hand/hand coordination to ensure you're close enough to the target not to get it all over the bed."

I'd never played around with my butt hole before. My pussy hundreds, if not thousands of times, but never my anus. I removed the top off the lube bottle and pulled my legs up toward my head and put my left hand on one of the cheeks and starting inching in toward my sphincter. I'd seen it in a mirror a few times, most recently when I shaved myself bare, knowing what it looked like, but never touching it other than with tissue. I knew I was getting closer, my fingers slowly feeling down the slope. And there it was.

The hard muscular ring around the entry to my ass, little ridges and lines, the tiny pit in the center the ring protected. I moved the bottle until I touched my other hand, and keeping contact with it, tipped the bottle down, feeling the cool liquid, drip, drip, drip, over the tip of my finger and onto the hole. I smeared it around with that finger, rubbing it for two inches in all directions from the epicenter. Drip, drip, pushing a little inside me with my fingertip, even that tiny penetration feeling fine. The hole widened slightly as if it knew what was coming and prepared for it.

Master lay on his back on the bed, his cock a flagpole, down at a 45 degree angle, but still hard. I dripped some lubricant on the head and smoothed it down, adding more and more until his entire cock felt slippery in my hand.

"Mount me," he ordered hoarsely, his mouth suddenly dry.

I straddled his hips and adjusted his cock until I felt the head in contact with my slickened hole, then let my weight drop, feeling him expand the ring, pushing past it and up into my rectum. I gasped as I slid down his pole, so full, the Trainer buzzing away inside of me. I climaxed almost immediately, before I reached the bottom of his cock. My body tightened around my intruders as I sank the rest of the way down until I rested on his legs, still quivering through my orgasm.

"I put you in charge of our pleasure," Master said. "Fuck yourself on my prick."

I did, going as fast or slow as I wanted. Sometimes faster, sometimes slower, sometimes not moving at all except for the Slave Trainer vibrating in my cunt. Master had cum several times already today. He was not going to cum fast, so I moved to accommodate me, to pleasure myself without his dick becoming a pain in my ass. While I moved on him, his hands were free to play with my breasts. To flick my turgid nipples with his fingers, to squeeze the pliant flesh in his hands, to pinch and tongue and suckle, adding that pleasure to the pleasure centered in my groin. I orgasmed often, but none of them satisfying or ending the craving, always another one just behind it, building before the last one ended. The little ones the preliminary tremors, warning you of the major fault shift to come. The one that would change your world as you knew it, raising mountains, creating new seas, fracturing cities. It was there, forming, mounting, escalating, just out of reach, the warning sirens blaring, signaling danger, danger, seek shelter.

Master was tonguing my left nipple, hard, plump button. Suddenly, he bit, a flare of pain, and there it was. Seismographs going wild, the pens leaping back and forth across the page, the earthquake warned about, prepared for, though never for this. I surrendered, I screamed. I shattered, I exploded, then floated, drifting in crystal shards through space; gravity gone, mind gone, everything gone but spasms at the center of my being. Suddenly, a collapsing star, falling inward to the objects penetrating me, every thought, every emotion centered on my plugged core, time missing, all going black.

"Julia," shaking, "Julia are you okay." I was lying on top of him, Master shaking me. Who was Julia? I was a nameless slave, beloved of her Master. I opened my eyes and there was Master, eyes worried.

"What's wrong, Master? Why are you worried?"

"You passed out, Julia. You suddenly collapsed against my chest and became non-responsive."

"No, I didn't pass out, Master. I orgasmed. It was beautiful. The best, most powerful orgasm I've ever had. I can still feel the tremors, the aftershocks. Oh, Master, I've never felt anything like it. All feeling, all sensation centered on my cunt and the cock in my ass. I thought some of the other orgasms I've had were good. This was something special. I've never felt anything like it. I maybe closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on the feeling, but I can assure you; I didn't pass out. I remember everything."

"Really?" Master asked, doubtfully.

"It was beautiful. I was floating, like a dandelion seed on the breeze." I had a sudden thought. "Master, you climaxed too, didn't you? I was in charge of your pleasure. Please tell me you orgasmed and I didn't neglect you through mine?"

"No. I climaxed. Just before your eyes closed and you dropped onto my chest."

"Did I just drop, splat, or did I lower myself quickly, sir."

"More of a lowering thing, I guess. Fast, but not splat fast."

"See. I didn't pass out. I was just enjoying the sensations, swept away by the emotion of it all. You worried for nothing."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm good; better than good. I'm great. I'm still floating. It was a mind bending experience. Fuck, that one was worth all the others I've had today put together. It made wearing this orgasm machine all day worth it. Still you need to turn it off. You orgasmed. I get an hours rest. I shall need every minute of it to recover."

Master squirmed out from under me, found his phone and turned off the Slave Trainer.

"Is that your cum running out of my ass and down my leg, Master?"

He looked down at my bottom. "Some of mine, but it looks like it's mixing with some of yours from your pussy. I'll get something to clean both of us up. Since you get an hour without cumming, why don't you remove the Trainer and put it on the charger."

I rolled to the edge of the bed and got off without sitting down on it. We'd probably need to change the sheets anyway, but no point in making it worse than it was.

"Master, I'm starving," I said as he returned from the bathroom. "Nothing like orgasms all day to make a slave hungry. I need to be fed quickly or I might really pass out."

"I promise to feed you, but first things first." He handed me a warm, wet washcloth and I wiped myself down after removing the Trainer. I handed it back so he could use it on his cum covered cock.

"I'll start dinner while you clean your Trainer. You might even want another shower. I'm not sure one washcloth can do the job."

It was a good idea. It didn't have to be more than a quick shower, but it felt good to let the warm water roll over me. When I got to the kitchen, Master suggested I mix a salad. He was grilling two lovely NY strip steaks on the JennAir grill. He was naked and looked good enough to eat himself.

"Medium, dear slave?"

"Medium rare, sir, if it gets it to my belly faster," I replied. "I feel like I haven't eaten today."

"Medium rare it is. It should be ready in five minutes."

"I'll set the table, Master."

Master soon brought the food to the table. He cut both steaks into bite size pieces. While he ate one, he fed me the other as I sat on his lap, interspersing the steak with forkfuls of salad. Occasionally, a drop of dressing or meat juice would drip while he fed me and he'd lick it off my skin, taking his time with it. By the time we were done eating, I wanted to fuck again, and told Master so. I was a sex slave.

"You're becoming insatiable," Master said. "I might not survive your slavery. It's been an hour. Put your Slave Trainer in."

I kissed him and got off his lap. When I returned, the kitchen was cleaned and the food put away. Rather than taking his naked slave again, Master brought me to the family room and turned on the TV. We sat together on the couch and watched some of our favorite recorded shows together, Master lightly caressing me while the Slave Trainer brought me to orgasm after orgasm. At one point, around 8:30, Master grew hard once more and I sucked him until his salty cream spilled forth. There wasn't much to go around this time. Master was right. I might end up fucking him to death. By ten, I was tired and wished to go to bed. Climaxing all day was hard work.

"I haven't used your beautiful cunt all day long," Master said. "You may go to bed when you get me hard enough to fuck you."

"Yes, Master."

I tried, but Master had cum too often today and wasn't able to get hard again right away. His cock remained limp no matter how hard I tried despite all my new found cocksucking skills. I tried again around eleven, and while he showed more promise than an hour before, he remained too flaccid to penetrate me. Trying again forty minutes later, I finally achieved the results I desired. We removed the Slave Trainer and his cock slid into my wet cunt for the first time today. Despite my weariness, Master made me cum again, though he had very little moisture to add to my own when he finally climaxed. Turning off the TV, we went to the bedroom and Master showed me the two outfits available for me tomorrow, the oriental style silk dress with the very high side slit, or the leather harness which did nothing to cover me. It would be almost worse than going naked, as it accentuated and enhanced my nudity rather than provide cover. I could certainly never go out in public with it, which pre-supposed Master had no plans to take me out tomorrow.

"It's the end of the day," Master asked; "which is worse, unlimited orgasms or orgasm denial?"

"Both of them have disadvantages. Cumming all day made me hungry and tired. All the muscles which are normally involved in an orgasm are sore. Despite this, orgasm denial is worse. Needing to cum and being unable to is worse. How many times did I cum today, sir?" I asked.

Master checked his phone. "Eighty-seven."

"Eighty-eight, sir," I replied. "I climaxed just now while you fucked me. Since the Trainer wasn't in me, it couldn't measure that one."