Generous Natures Pt. 02

Part 2: The Reluctant Mistress

Our story so far: Jasmine, hypnoslave of millionaire Devon Stockwell, travels with him to a charity function. But just as they arrive, she finds herself hesitating to obey a direct order, causing a moment of tension between them, and Jasmine worries that she has ruined their evening before it even started.

* * *

They dropped off Jasmine's wrap at coat check. As Jasmine tucked the ticket into her clutch, Devon looked around, reminding her of a dog scanning a yard for disturbances.

"Devon!" Jasmine heard a familiar squeal. A young woman emerged from the ballroom, dark hair pulled into a tight bun, wearing a dusty pink strapless gown. "Oh my God, she looks incredible." The woman put her hand on Jasmine's arm. "You look incredible. Hi."

"Hi, Tasha," Jasmine said. She hadn't seen Tasha since the beginning of her slave training, before Jasmine's conscious mind was even aware of what was happening. Before she knew that Tasha had known all along what Devon planned to do to her.

Yet another thing Jasmine recognized she should be angry about. Devon had taken away her free will, her right to decide how she lived her life, and this woman, who'd spent her life in the lap of luxury, had helped him do it. But she was amused by these thoughts, actually, these silly little realizations. It made it easier to find her smile and forget the incident from the sidewalk. Once that line of thinking passed through her, all Jasmine could think about was the look of curious lust in Tasha's eyes.

Tasha seemed to not know what to say next, and turned her attention back to Devon. "I have like five people I need to thank for coming, but then I'll find you again. Oh, before I forget, Tiffany's donated these absolutely killer earrings for the silent auction, and I want them so fucking bad and I do have a birthday coming up, so..."

"So ask your father to bid on them for you," Devon said, grinning teasingly.

Tasha rolled her eyes. "He said it would look bad for the foundation if he did that. Please, Devon? I'll do anything."

Jasmine recognized the way her Master's body shifted. He did like begging, sometimes. Devon leaned forward and cupped Tasha's chin, like he so often did to Jasmine. "Get a job, then," he said, in the same voice he might use to command Jasmine to spread her legs. "Or a rich husband."

Tasha glared. "You sound like my mom. Come onnnnn." Jasmine looked down and saw Tasha's foot twitch, like she was keeping herself from stomping it. "Even if the bids go up, you'll still pay like half retail."

"Oh, what a bargain," he laughed, still amused, "considering I wasn't going to buy them in the first place."

"It's for a good cause." Tasha didn't belong to Devon, and wasn't so easily pulled under his spell. But they'd known each other their whole lives, and Jasmine wondered if there was a time when Tasha really would have done anything for him. "For the kids."

"We'll see," he said, retracting his hand from Tasha's face.

Tasha cleared her throat and stepped back, adjusting her boobs in her dress. "Just don't make me pick between having them and...her." She met Jasmine's eyes. "You promised."

"I'm a man of my word," Devon said. "Just find us when you're ready." He pulled Jasmine close to him and waved at Tasha as she walked off. When she was gone, he led her into the cavernous ballroom, past a sign that said, "The van Galen Family Foundation Annual Gala."

"What does the foundation do?" Jasmine asked.

Devon furrowed his brow. "Something with kids, like Tasha said. Um," he bit his lip, then snapped his fingers in recognition, "youth groups. That's it. After-school programs, summer camps. For five hundred dollars a plate, you'd think I'd be more mindful of details like that."

They checked the silent auction, where she marveled at things like vacation packages to exotic locations, more jewelry that Tasha hadn't mentioned, and restaurant gift certificates. While she was reading the description for a set of parasailing lessons, they were approached yet again by someone taking bracing sips of clear alcohol, and it took Jasmine a moment to realize where she'd seen the older man before.

"Your mother's here," was all he said, directly to Devon.

"Mmhmm, hi to you too, Dad," Devon responded, shooting a sideways glance at Jasmine.

"I don't get it."

"You're being obtuse," Devon said dismissively. "She's been friends with Mrs. van Galen since college. Of course she's here."

Mr. Stockwell didn't seem to consider that an adequate answer. "She wasn't here last year."

"Because she was in Paris last year. She violating some alimony agreement?"

Devon's father grumbled with a bitter shake of his head. Then his gaze fell to Jasmine. "This is your...uh..."

"This is Jasmine, Dad." Devon put a hand on her shoulder. "You've met her. She used to work front desk."

"And what do you do now?" he asked Jasmine, as if he was speaking to a child.

"She services my cock, Dad," Devon said before Jasmine had a chance to stutter through a response.

Mr. Stockwell choked on his drink. "Jesus, Devon." He paused a moment, and then he laughed after another sip. "Alright, you kids have fun." He clapped his son on the shoulder before wandering off.

"Fucking exhausting," Devon mumbled. "You did well," he said. "I was worried your instincts might have you licking your lips at him."

"No, Sir," she said quietly with a tiny smile.

"It doesn't matter what you are. He was going to look down on you regardless, just like I thought." He rolled his eyes. "Deflecting. Shocking. Not giving a shit. That's how I get people to invest their fortunes in the company. It's how I keep him in the black. And it's how I get him to fuck off when he's being a bitter pill. He has no idea what you really are to me, but he knows better than to pry or question me when I pull out that card." He seemed to be talking to himself as much as to her, but Jasmine listened to her Master with rapt attention. "It won't make him respect you, but nothing will anyway, so at least he'll leave us alone." He looked around. "Wonder where Mom is."

They passed a few waiters carrying hors d'oeuvres trays, but Jasmine avoided them. Her training conditioned her not to take food that Devon didn't give her. Likewise, at the bar, he ordered her a club soda. She didn't miss alcohol. She'd never been much of a drinker anyway, and it was important to Devon that she keep her senses clear, and that she stay healthy.

They went to their table, where salads were waiting for them. "Go ahead and eat," Devon said as he pulled out her chair for her to sit. "I'm sure it's all fine."

She liked when he remembered the small nuances of her conditioning, when he took care of her in ways he might not have considered might be necessary when he'd decided to own her. If he hadn't told her to eat, she would have stared at the salad plate in wonder until someone came to take it away.

He lingered behind her for a moment, then leaned over and kissed her on the neck. She let out a small moan, and he chuckled heavily in her ear. "Little fuckdoll," he whispered. "Better eat up. Tasha will be back for you any minute."

How could she eat? How could she do anything when the thought of someone coming to her Master and taking her like she was a borrowed piece of clothing made her feel so horny? If she moved even to take her fork, she might be unable to stifle an orgasmic scream.

He put the fork in her hand and sat down next to her. She could feel him smirking, though she could only see him out of the corner of her eye.

There was a clinking sound, and the chatter in the room died down as everyone's attention turned to a man standing in a staged area with a background showing the van Galen Foundation's logo. "I want to thank everyone for coming tonight," he began, and then droned on about the importance of charity and giving back to the community.

"That's Tasha's dad," Devon leaned over to whisper to Jasmine. "He's nice. Bit of a windbag."

Jasmine stabbed a forkful of lettuce without much thought. She couldn't keep her eyes off the man as he spoke.

"What are you thinking?" Devon asked.

Jasmine blinked, unsure if she should say with others at the table with them. But she'd already disobeyed one order tonight, and she wasn't about to do it again. So she put her hand on her Master's thigh, partially because she knew he would like that, and partially to anchor herself so she could scoot closer to him and whisper in his ear. "I'm wondering what his cock looks like," she said. Not seductively, but with a note of confusion. "I'm wondering what everyone's cocks or tits or cunts look like."

"I know," he said gently. He put his hand on top of hers and petted it, a move that seemed so innocent on the outside, but that ignited fires deep within her, made her submissive brain light up. "I'll release you from some of it, if it's too disruptive. You're not something to be leant out to anyone off the street, or even just anyone in the room. I'm discerning, when I share you, and I have conditions. He doesn't make the list." He pointed at Mr. van Galen. "Nobody in this room makes the list, except for Tasha." He kissed her on the cheek. "Try to look at it as a way to remind you that you belong to me, that you're a little whore if I want you to be. Not as anything you need to act on. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir," she whispered.

"Good." He paused as a waitress removed their salad plates and replaced them with their meals. His was steak, hers was salmon. "Eat." Devon could move so easily between passionate monologues and one-word commands.

Mr. van Galen's speech went on, and he thanked his family, including his wife and daughter. When he said Tasha's name, she waved from her table and basked in some light applause. All of Devon's friends were so pretty, Jasmine thought. So stylish and so sexy. She found Devon's command made it easier to focus just on Tasha, just on the curves of her body in her tight dress, the excited glimmer in her eyes, the gleam of her white teeth.

Jasmine felt saliva pool at the bottom of her mouth, and if Devon had commanded it, she would have sprinted across the room to tackle Tasha to the ground and cover her in kisses. She twitched in her seat and tried to finish her meal before the speech was done. Tasha caught her eye and grinned, and Jasmine felt her clit throb.

Finally, the speech ended, everyone clapped, and Tasha, still clapping herself, stood up and hurried over to Devon and Jasmine's table as the crowd resumed its various discussions.

She crouched between Devon and Jasmine's chairs. "Oh my gawd, I thought he would never stop talking."

"I thought it was one of his more restrained speeches," Devon said.

"Shut up, no you did not."

"Eloquent. Timeless. Ah, ah, ah." He caught Tasha's hand as she moved to give him a playful smack. "Be nice, or you can't play."

Tasha's eyes went wide, and though Jasmine was as eager to play as Tasha was, she enjoyed seeing Tasha realize how much power Devon had, even over her. He had something she wanted. Badly.

Jasmine liked being wanted so badly.

Tasha withdrew her hand and shrugged, trying to play it off like she didn't care either way, but Jasmine could see the hunger in her eyes. She knew Devon could see it too.

"How do we do it?" Tasha asked, idly poking the top of Devon's chairback.

"You want to play alone, or do you want me there?" he asked.

"Oh." She pursed her lips. "I didn't know not having you there was an option. Charlie said he and Sport did it right in front of you."

"Did what?" Devon asked with a falsely innocent smirk, one leg draped over the other.

"You know," Tasha said. When Devon's expression didn't change, she looked around, her face beet red. "Fucked her," she whisper-hissed. "Fucking damn you, you turd." But she fought back a giddy giggle, practically had to shove her fist into her mouth to keep it from escaping.

Devon smiled. "If they'd wanted privacy, I'd have given it to them. They've passed all my stipulations for trust. So have you."

Tasha bit on her knuckles thoughtfully. "If it wouldn't insult you..."

"Tasha." Devon gave her an are-you-joking look.

She laughed. "Okay. I was thinking earlier about where. I snuck into the back when they were setting up, told them I wanted to make sure everything was going well." She flashed a proud smirk at her subterfuge. "There's a little room, like I think for brides getting ready for weddings and stuff. No one was using it." She jerked her head off to the side. "It's down the hall at the end."

"Perfect," Devon said. "Why don't you go, and I'll have Jasmine follow you in a few minutes."

Tasha nodded, stood. "See you there," she said, suddenly unable to look Jasmine in the eye. Her voice shook slightly, and she shuffled away.

"Is she okay?" Jasmine asked her Master.

"I think she's fine," he said. "The reality of it all may have just hit her. But you'll make her feel more comfortable, won't you, pet?" He leaned in and kissed her lips, the way any boyfriend might kiss his girlfriend. But he whispered, "You have plenty of techniques at your disposal. I've made sure of that."

She clamped her lips together and shut her eyes.

"Good girl," he said. Good girls make their Master's friends feel good. That had been hammered into her during her training. It wasn't the most important tenet, but it was up there. "Go on. I'll save your dessert, but you'll need to earn it."

If he'd programmed her to be more assertive with him, she might have bit lightly onto his lip, promised in a husky voice that she would. But good slaves like her obeyed their programming, and so she only nodded with a heavy neck, tried to blink herself to some normal expression, and stood, following the invisible breadcrumbs that Tasha had left behind.

She didn't know for sure that Devon would watch her as she walked, but she should always assume that he would be watching her, that he knew every movement she'd make and would factor that into his consideration of how rough to be with her, how much freedom he'd give her when he had her on her knees, literally or proverbially. She swayed her hips slightly as she walked, stepping more confidently in heels than she ever did before he trained her.

She found the bridal dressing room that Tasha had described. The door was ajar, and she pushed on it. Tasha was standing against a wall, facing the platform and mirrors where a bride would normally stand to be dressed and attended to by her bridesmaids. She held a vape pen in one hand, and was inhaling it deeply, wisps of smoke emerging from slightly parted teeth as she looked into the mirrors. She didn't even seem to notice that Jasmine had come in at first, but turned when she heard Jasmine shut the door.

"I should lock it," Jasmine said. Tasha nodded with an agreeing hum and a tight smile.

"Sorry," Tasha said. "I just...I have no idea why I'm suddenly so nervous." She laughed to herself and shook her head. "I've been looking forward to this for weeks. Months. Ever since Devon said..." She took another drag from the vape pen, then exhaled and rested the pen by her side with a straight arm. "Ever since this whole thing with you started, actually, all I could think about was when I'd be able to..." she swirled the pen in the air, "...use you. But now that you're here, I have no fucking idea what to do. Feels like prom night all over again, to be honest." She laughed. "Isn't that silly?"

Jasmine blinked as she processed the question, which was more abstract than she'd been prepared for.

Luckily, Tasha didn't seem to expect an answer. "I'm not a dominatrix or anything like that."

"Do you want to be?" Jasmine asked.

"No." Another drag. Jasmine sniffed a hint of cherry in the air. "I don't want to waste your time. I know you mean a lot to Devon."

"You're not wasting my time," she said. She was starting to get more comfortable in the silence, more in tune with Tasha. "Can I ask you something?"

Tasha seemed surprised by that, but not offended. She blinked, eyes wide, hint of a smile on her lips. Maybe there was more in that vape than tobacco. "Sure."

"The first night Devon hypnotized me, someone was eating me out. It couldn't have been him, because he was holding me from behind." She took a step to Tasha, whose chest fluttered. "Was it you?"

Tasha nodded. "You remember that now, huh? Yeah, he said he needed someone to...stimulate you, I think is how he put it." She made a face like it was a way of speaking from Devon that she was both very used to and very annoyed by. "I thought it sounded..." Jasmine reached out and touched Tasha's cheek, and Tasha paused, swallowing to get more moisture in her mouth. "I thought it sounded hot."

"I'd never felt anything like that before," Jasmine murmured. "It was incredible. I thought I was going to melt."

Tasha took another, possibly instinctual puff of her vape. She started to exhale into Jasmine's face, then seemed to remember herself and turned her head. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Are you happy? Like, with what he's done to you, you're happy?"

Jasmine hadn't thought Tasha was capable of such a serious question, but then, it was entirely possible her ditzy, spoiled-little-rich-girl personality was part of a habitual act. "Yes."

"Because you really like it, or because he's brainwashed you to like it?"

Jasmine furrowed her brow, trying to explain it gently, and in a way that didn't make her head hurt. She wasn't trained to be thinking this much, but for the time, she was Tasha's, so she had to answer. "It's...it's more complicated than that. The way he's in my head, they're pretty much the same now." She knew the process she was describing, the things Devon had done to her, explaining them would horrify a normal person. But Tasha just watched her with rapt curiosity, just a hint of concern that Jasmine knew could be easily rationalized away. "I think I wanted it, but it's also possible he just told me that I did. But at this point," she shrugged, "it doesn't matter." Her name. Her desires. None of it mattered.

"I did really like it, making you squirm like that," Tasha said, her shoulders relaxing as she gave a small smile. "But I was nervous the whole time that you were going to snap out of it. When Devon told us what he planned to do to you, I think I barely reacted. We've always shared everything. I mean, everything. We've shared toys. We've shared partners. We've shared each other. So I thought, at first, I guess I thought he meant, it was all going to be one big, long scene. Even though I knew he could hypnotize people...I didn't think...and then you came, and after that, I could just see it in your eyes. He was already erasing who you were before. It wasn't a game."

"Mmm-mmm." Jasmine shook her head. "It wasn't."

"That made it feel, like, so different," Tasha said. "I started to feel kind of bad for you, but he promised you would like it. He promised he wouldn't hurt you. Sport told me I was being an idiot for caring about it so much."

Jasmine thought back to that morning, when Sport had fucked her with Devon's blessing right there in his kitchen. He'd been so rough with her. He definitely didn't think of her as a person.

She stroked Tasha's neck. "I don't want you to worry about me," she said. "It's kind of you, but it's not necessary. If you're Devon's friend, that means you and I are going to be seeing a lot of each other, and I know it wouldn't make him happy to know you're so concerned." A hand brushed against the bodice of Tasha's dress, and Jasmine was pleased to see Tasha blush. "So, what can I do to put your mind at ease?"

"Jesus, um." Tasha smacked her lips, as if all thought had been sucked out of her head for a moment. "I don't know."