Belle's Story Bk. 02 Ch. 02

On the way home, we compare notes on the two interviews and the 3-way finale.

Emily looks carefully at me while thinking: 'Sansa is always so calm and businesslike, and I admire her common sense.' Emily's instinct flashes, providing clarity: "My love," she asks, "tell me to shut up or tell me I am wrong or tell me not to worry," She began.

I look into her beautiful eyes: "Why would I say any of those things to you my darling one?"

Emily loves Sansa's patience and her restraint; she is always so self-possessed; outside our bedroom: "Allow me to do some work first," she says, following Sansa's cue not to be hasty, from her.

"I shall happily wait for my darling." Sansa kisses me and we go inside the house.

While I talk with Piti and the other ladies, Emily does a little digging around on the Internet, and then talks to a couple of her colleagues from her old university. They were glad to hear from her, and after the usual niceties were concluded, they gave her some most interesting information. Afterwards, she makes an international phone call: "Vijaya Patel's office, how may I help you?"

"Ah, if you tell Memsahib that Emily from London has an important question for her, and that when she is free I should be delighted to speak with her on a matter of political importance."

"Thank you, as it happens she is in the office, so allow me... ah yes, Miss Emily, she says to put you through."

"Emily, to what do I owe this delight? I am coming to Paris next month for a meeting, and as it happens I am thinking of contacting the Agency to book your services."

"That," Emily assures her, "would be an utter delight, and no other assignments will be allowed to stand in your way."

She laughs that delightful, throaty laugh: "You do not yet know when I am coming!"

"It does not matter," Emily assures her, unless it coincides with what Sansa has planned for us, nothing is that important."

Vijaya expresses her deep satisfaction, which of course pleases Emily. She divulges what she has discovered about Professor Fetisha. Her response, as I tell Sansa over supper, is most interesting.

"My love," Emily says as we dine à deux, "I wish to revert to our meeting with Professor Fetisha."

I smile and take a sip of my sparkling water: "If you desire it, I am as I said, happy as ever, to aid you and your desires."

"I know," Emily assures me lovingly, "but I sensed a hesitation."

"Oh my Emily, you are so sensitive to my moods! Please be assured, if it is for the good of the business and for US, I shall be happy to oblige."

"That's the point my love." Emily points out: "You did have reservations and what is more, an afternoon's phone calls and work on the Internet confirm you were right."

I'm rather surprised and assure Emily that it was because I thought the Professor was unprofessional, if not downright unprofessorial. I do admit, however, that an element of the personal had entered into it: "I did dislike the way she looked at me, and I was not over fond of her attitude towards my prospective wife. But I will do anything for you, my dearest!"

I hold on to her hand, gazing into her eyes.

Emily reassures me that she knew I would go with what she wants, but reminds me of what I had said to her so often: "It is what is good for US, my darling. I respect your instinct and so, acting upon a hunch, I have done a bit of work on our 'Professor' Fetisha."

Emily had my total interest and as we ate, she outlined the results of her work: "The university to which the professor belongs is a private one. Its funding comes in large part from two big Foundations, both of which have links with HIndu extremists on the right-wing of the ruling BJP. The colleagues to whom I spoke were both wary of her and the university. Following a hint from one of them, I phoned a former student who now works for a Government Agency with which, from time to time, I have had links in terms of supplying them with suitable graduates."

"I see," I smile, "you have been a busy little bee my darling. And I had no idea you possessed links with such an Agency. No escorts there, for sure!"

Emily laughs, and assures me that any escorts were under deep cover. Following that conversation, she had spoken with Vijaya.

I smile, asking: "And how was our up and coming star?"

Emily is happy to recount that Vijaya is very keen to continue using our service, and then explodes her bombshell: "Professor Fetisha is known to the authorities - the Indian equivalent of my friends. There are strong indications she has links to the trafficking of women. The Indians would love to get some hard evidence. I have suggested to Vijaya that we use this experiment of Fetisha's to get it."

"But my love," I reply horrified: "Gratified as I am to know my instincts were correct, should we not just withdraw?"

Emily explains that Vijaya thought this might be the best chance to get 'inside' the Fetisha organisation and break it. If we were part of it, it would do us much good with the Indian Government and Agencies, and help Vijaya's career.

"I see," I say seriously, "so what do you propose?"

"I propose," she replies briefly but with her usual happy smile: "that we cooperate with the authorities. They have inserted two traceable microchips just under each of my ears. I'm now 'chipped' like a pet. The location for the date has been fitted with hidden cameras so that no part of it is hidden from view. In addition, armed police will be deployed out of sight ready to come to my assistance if necessary. If not, they will follow me, using tracking devices, hopefully to where they keep other abducted women ready for auction and/or trafficking. If I use the code word 'UNBEAR' then the armed police will immediately come to my aid."

Nodding I reply: "It appears to be a good plan darling, I just beg you not to be too stoical. I know you will undergo abuse but please, if it goes beyond that, please don't get all submissive and bear it, I need you back safe and sound. I love you so much my darling."

Driven by Riya in Phantom 7, Emily & Sansa arrive on time at the agreed location. Emily feels strange but is glad that she is double micro-chipped. There is a thought that haunts her, what if it is all legitimate? Sansa, Piti and the police would all witness her degradation, and it would be for nothing. She resolves, for herself and for Sansa, US, and for our joint enterprise, to do what is needed. That is my darling Sansa's motto, and we live by it.

Emily rings the doorbell; the door opens and the Professor looks at Emily in her mid-thigh length white linen dress. She is wearing sensible shoes, her hair carefully set into a pony-tail, and with new white panties. She can feel her eyes checking her over, but more like a wolf looking at its prey! I say cheerfully: "Hello Professor Memsahib, I am here to pay reparations as agreed."

Fetisha smiles on seeing Emily wearing a white linen minidress, she almost salivates over her new acquisition and wonders if she can trap the interfering 18 year old too. However, she thinks about securing her latest catch: "Greetings Emily, how nice to see you again. Please do come inside."

Emily thanks her and enters as instructed. Careful not to presume to act, she stands and awaits her instructions. In the meantime, Both Riya and myself, along with unknown numbers of hidden police, witness Professor Fetisha open the door and invite Emily inside. That accomplished, Riya drives me to an agreed convenient location where the police can keep us informed.

"You look so pretty my dear. Just think of all those unfortunate Indian servants that were abused so cruelly by their employers." Fetisha says, wickedly applying the pressure from the onset. Fetisha hands her a ragged, dirty servant's dress: "Let us start by getting you into character. Take off ALL your clothes and place them on the table, then put on the servant dress, and nothing else."

Emily blushes and slides her linen dress down her shoulders and shimmies out of it, folding it carefully. Self-conscious about her 'titlets', as she never needs a bra, she takes her socks and shoes off before finally, hesitantly, taking her knickers down. She places her nice clothes on the table, as instructed. Then she dons the horrible smelly servant dress. The harsh fabric scratches her and makes her nipples stand prominently. Emily is suddenly plunged into another world. Automatically she stands, hands in front of her and head down.

Fetisha nods, pleased at how submissive this silly girl is and how she is playing right into her hands. She'll fetch a good price at auction, but not until she has finished with her. Pointing to the bucket of water and a scrubbing brush: "Get those girl and follow me into the kitchen - be careful not to spill any of the water."

Having spoken, Fetisha leads the way into the kitchen: "Get a move on Girl!"

Emily moves, taking care to spill nothing, carrying the bucket and scrubbing brush, she follows the professor into the kitchen. She stands awaiting instructions, feeling, already, as though she is not who she was.

"Wash that floor so clean that it can be used as a plate for you to eat from." Fetisha orders "Be careful you do not spoil the dress I have so generously allowed you to wear. You are a very privileged girl to be employed by a lady like me!"

Fetisha stands back to watch.

"Yes Memsahib" Emily says submissively. She very carefully scrubs the floor, using a rough cloth to mop up the water and wrings it out into the bucket. She makes sure every inch of the floor is sparkling clean. By the end she is dripping with sweat and feeling both dizzy and thirsty. However, she makes sure by polishing the floor, careful to avoid getting the dress harmed. When she has finished, She licks the floor to show it is indeed clean, making sure to reclean where she licked: "Fetisha Memsahib, your servant girl has done her best."

Fetisha puts on a false smile: "Well now, that wasn't too hard was it, however you will have to wake yourself up and work faster if you want to remain in my employment." Sitting on the edge of the kitchen table, Fetisha lifts her skirts to reveal a hairy bush: "Your reward is to be allowed to quench your thirst with my juices, but you'll have to work for them to be supplied. Do you understand girl?"

Emily blushes then nods and says that she does. Kneeling and crawling to face her hairy bush. She looks up between her legs and asks obediently: "Might I be permitted to quench my thirst on your juices Fetisha Memsahib?"

Fetisha smiles, genuinely this time, anticipating the enjoyment to come if this girl knows her craft: "Yes girl, you may proceed but be sure to please me or it'll be the town poorhouse brothel for you."

"Yes, Fetisha Memsahib," Emily says, wondering if this is a hint, but she gets to work and parting her hairy lips, she applies her tongue. It is plain she has not bothered washing recently, so there is both a strong smell and taste, but not to be deterred she slides her tongue upward slowly, dipping into her cleft and using her tongue to arouse her. Licking upwards, Emily's face is rasped by her hair, but her tongue reaches her button, which she pushes up into the soft, spongy skin behind her. As she flicks the button, her fingers begin to explore the entrance to her dripping wetness.

Fetisha is thoroughly enjoying the girl debasing herself. She had made a point, just before the girl's appointed time of arrival, of visiting the loo to pee in a not too hygienic manner: "I can see you have the talents girl, to make you a passable whore, rather than just an escort. Does that thought please you?"

Emily replies: "I am here to do as I am told Fetisha Memsahib, agency in one such as myself is pointless. I shall do as I am told, as a good girl should." She pauses, and then, pushing her face against her rough hair, sucks on her button, circling it with her tongue.

Fetisha nods uninterested: "Well get on with your work girl, there is no time for idle use of your mouth while important work awaits you."

Emily licks around her button, sucking in pulses then inserts her crossed fingers through the gooey wetness. She begins to finger fuck her harder, in and out as her tongue flicks her bud. Emily inserts a third finger and begins exploring her velvet wetness until her fingers find that special place to massage. As her fingers engage there, she uses her tongue to massage her button before applying her lips to suck her out. Emily senses that her pulse sucking clearly arouses her, so her teeth make little almost-bites on her button, sucking harder as her fingers massage her special place.

Fetisha stifles a moan of pleasure as the girl works, raising her core temperature and pressure: "That's good" she rasps, "get a move on girl; I haven't got all day!"

Emily bites her button and thrusts hard inside her, massaging her special place and sucking harder as she rams inside, using her left index finger to tease her rosebud hole. Engaging with all her sex zones, Emily pushes her to the place she needs to be.

Fetisha looks down on the girl working to earn herself an appointment on the auctioneers block. Maybe she can arrange it to be in India... her thoughts are interrupted by her body responding to the girl's ministrations. She moans loudly as her body reaches climax and expels a torrent of her juices from her: "Now girl, you may drink your fill... don't forget cleaning up afterwards!"

As Fetisha pushes her hairy wetness into Emily's face, rubbing it still redder, she obediently applies herself to drinking as much of her goo as she is able. Fetisha comes down from her high. Emily is careful to lick every drop from her, even cleaning her hair and licking down to ensure that her rosebud is clean. Looking up, wet and red-faced, Emily says: "Thank you Fetisha Memsahib for allowing me to quench my thirst. Are there other tasks you have for me?"

"Yes girl," Fetisha says with a glint in her eye: "Come to me here, take off your dress, then bend over the table with your legs open, just like a whore. Oh silly me, that is what you are girl, isn't it?"

Blushing furiously, Emily nods and says: "Yes, Professor Memsahib."

Emily takes off the vile dress and then, with difficulty because of her height, bends over the table, which means that her feet don't reach the floor. She doesn't think she ever felt so helpless, hoping that Fetisha is the villain we thought, or all this would be watched with relish by others for nothing. She is also worried about Sansa, knowing though that she would realise it was role play as she herself has to do, it is what we always do. How we love each other is something quite separate and special.

"It is good we agree on that girl," Fetisha says: "now where's that cooking oil? Ah, here it is!" She puts the bottle of oil on the table beside the girl, pulls over the cage, filled with cushions: "Here girl, you can rest your feet on the cushions."

Emily gingerly enters the cage and stands on the cushions, trembling a little, aware her face is rubbed red by her pubic hair and that she stinks of her pussy.

Fetisha collects another bottle and puts in on the table beside the bottle of cooking oil: "Ready girl?" she asks, ready for action.

Nodding, she feels the cool air between her spread legs, Emily assents: "Yes, Memsahib" and then braces herself.

Fetisha: "Put your hands behind your back for me, then we can continue with your reparations."

Emily does as she is instructed and puts her hands behind her back.

Fetisha snaps a pair of handcuffs onto her wrists, comes round to the other side of the table and gags her with a knotted cloth, the big knot on the tongue so she can't speak: "Now servant girl, you had your fun with my cunt, now I shall have my fun. That's nice and fair, isn't it?" She goes to the bottle of oil and liberally applies it to her hands and to both of Emily's lower holes. Behind her, she inserts two fingers: "I'm so kind to my girl" and cackles hideously.

Emily shivers as she is handcuffed, she hadn't expected that. She feels her invading hands coat her holes with oil, and as fingers enter her, she moans into the gag. Emily had a feeling Fetisha meant this, and was sure now that her aims were what her darling Sansa and she had surmised. She thinks of her Sansa and only that thought and her love keep Emily from wanting to flee - not of course, that she could.

Fetisha starts finger fucking the little whore's cunt, enjoying the power she holds over her. She's sure Emily will be grateful to her for opening her up, but maybe not before she is sold into prostitution. Getting into the rhythm, she suddenly removes her fingers, oils them again and resumes finger fucking her with three fingers: "Are you enjoying yourself girl?"

Emily aches from the roughness of the finger-fucking, she moans and a muffled: "yeth Memthahib" emerges from her mouth. She wonders why Fetisha is concentrating on her sex, but gets the idea that this is a part of a wider plan, feeling quite sure now... and then her thoughts are interrupted by the feelings induced by this position.

Fetisha watches the girl's body shake with each thrust, it is so sexy. If she doesn't sell, she thinks she might have her transported to her secret place and keep her there as her own slave. She withdraws her three fingers, oils her hand again and making her fingers slim, starts fucking her with four fingers. It takes a good few thrusts before her fingers fit inside her, right up to the knuckles.

Emily attempts even harder to concentrate. Her sex is not used to such treatment, and though at first she feels some pain at the stretching, as she accommodates her fingers, she begins to feel tingles shooting though her body. As the fourth finger goes in, she moans and begins to press against the desk, conscious of her sex leaking.

Fetisha loves the spectacle of the helpless girl, having submitted to her: "You are enjoying your submission girl, aren't you?"

Emily grunts: "yeth Memthahib" as she feels her body tingling, and knows her sex is dripping onto the table.

Fetisha chuckles: "Your body seems to agree with you, judging by the flow of your juices!" Withdrawing her four fingers with an evil grin, she oils her hand liberally again, then making it as slim as possible, pushes into her until the broadest part of her hand, the knuckles, prevent further progress. Holding position she pours more oil where required and thrusts again, rotating her hand back and forward as if screwing it into her.

Stretched even more, Emily begins to feel almost faint, the pain is there again, no one had ever stretched her, and though she is sure that if done properly, it would have been possible to feel pleasure, that is not how she is feeling now - but all the same, the physical and mental stimulation began to overcome the pain. She is conscious of loud guttural moaning.

Fetisha hears her encouraging moans and keeps up the pressure, rotating and oiling until at last her hand goes in a little bit more. Maintaining the fisting, eventually, her fist disappears inside her. She laughs: "Hey give me back my hand girl, it's not yours to keep!" She laughs again to herself then without warning and aided by the girl's juices, she pulls her hand out: "Ah, you escaped... well done," as if she is speaking to her hand.

Emily emits a great moan as she feels the fist stretch her, it is as though she is just a hand puppet, and that feeling overcomes the pain. She is being humiliated and realises that she is enjoying that aspect, groaning, unable to orgasm but unable to stop her - she feels faint with the mixture of feelings.

Fetisha removes some of the cushions from the cage, removes the handcuffs then helps Emily to lie down with her knees raised. Giving her a bottle of water: "You did well girl, now you may drink." With that she closes the lid and secures it with a padlock: "This is your home tonight, tomorrow you are going on a journey of adventure. Sleep well, the water has something in it that will help you sleep soundly."