tagBDSMIn His Service

In His Service

byKatherine English 2©

Silently he sat in the great leather chair by the fire, a large man with military bearing and the stern demeanor of one who is used to being obeyed. He paused, his dark gaze giving no quarter until finally he curled his index finger and bade me to approach. I wanted to run, to hide my insecurities from his invasive glare, but it was too late. Inwardly I cringed. Would I please this strong and forbidding man, I wondered? Could I?

The living hush of the room wrapped itself about my trembling body, quivering like jelly between my thighs. Would he tell me what was expected of me, or was I simply too inexperienced and poorly trained to know? I quailed at the thought. Even now my "sisters-in-bondage" waited in the main dormitory for me to fail, hoping against hope they might be chosen to fill my place.

Finally, my would-be Master nodded for me to close the remaining distance between us, capturing me between his rock-hard thighs. His eyes traveled the length of my body, piercingly discarding my silken finery as if I were already naked before him. A flush crept along my cheeks as he slowly slid his fingers over the filmy halter of my dress, cupping my breasts, assessing their measure. Then his hands, large and demanding, began to caress my soft flesh, kneading my hardening nipples until moisture began to seep into my panties and I found myself pressing warmly into his palms.

"Take off your clothes", he rasped in unwavering tones. "I want to see you."

I shrank inside, the discordant pounding of my heart throbbing maddeningly in my temples. Would I pass his inspection? Quickly I raised my hands and began to release the neck strap of my halter dress. A tug at the knot, and I felt my breasts escape their confinement, exposed now to his lascivious glare as he paused impatiently to wait for what was to come. Hurriedly, I lowered the halter about my waist, then bent forward and reached behind my back to fumble clumsily with the hidden hook that would complete my task.

My Master, for that is how I thought of him already, watched in appreciation as my nipples grew and pruned beneath his inspection. Again he reached for me, this time giving a painful tweak in passing as he slid his hand beneath the edge of my short, thigh-length hemline.

"Finish it," he demanded, his eyes growing darker as he probed between my thighs. "…and then the thong."

Obediently, I released the final clasp that secured my garment, then watched as it drifted into a silken pool about my feet. "You're wet." He said, his eyes taking in the moist triangle of my lacy panties. "Why? I want to hear you say it."

Shamefaced, I opened my mouth to speak, to explain the suppressed hunger that raged unfulfilled within me. But try as I might, all that came out were the muted whinings of an untried girl, desperate to succeed in an endeavor far beyond her experience.

Impatient to proceed, my Master then reached out his hand, grasped the moist undergarment and gave a sharp tug, rending it from my body. "Kneel," he demanded, "here, on the floor between my feet. Then lean back on your heels and open your slit. I want to see how ready you are."

Shaking visibly, I did as he directed, pausing only to brush the clothing from beneath me as I lowered myself before the tight, hard bulge of his straining zipper. Then, fingers trembling, I reached between my legs and parted the shaven aperture of my sex for his inspection.

By now the moisture seeping between my legs had begun to pool and drizzle along my inner thighs, leaving slick, wet trails along my shivering flesh. I reddened, humiliated at my weakness. What must my Master think of me?

"Very wet," he commented, apparently satisfied, "and unbroken. Do you know your craft, Little One?"

My craft? I had only entered this service mere days before. I was "untried", an innocent. What did I know of "craft"? "I-I can learn, Sir," I stammered pleadingly, "…if you'll give me a chance."

Wordlessly he nodded, and then slowly lowering his zipper he eased his engorged member into view. It was huge! Nothing could have prepared me for this monster!

"Take it into your mouth, Girl," he ordered. "Suck it like your future depends on it…because it does."

Chapter One: Noelle

The streets of Miami were cold and stark in spite of the gentle breezes that hurried the fast food wrappers past my cardboard hovel on 27th Avenue. I would have to leave soon, I thought. Already men, dark and dirty, had been gathering near the alleyway, assessing my vulnerability. It would not be long until one of them decided to make his move.

I had been here, on Miami's south side for a mere two days, but already I knew what desperation felt like. Begging for coins from the tourists had kept my belly satisfied, but it had also drawn attention to my helplessness. Why I had ever followed my boyfriend, Lee, to this town, trusted him and placed myself in his hands, I'll never know. It had been a mistake, a serious one, and now my strict, orthodox parents would never take me back. I was on my own.

Shadows from the tall buildings around me began to lengthen. The sky darkened and a chill breeze blew in from the sea. Other street people began to settle in for the night, each in their own respective corner, ever-watchful of each other as they curled protectively in the only nooks and doorways that they could call home.

I too began to settle myself, searching the small passing of faces in vain for the elderly woman who had been my mentor for the past few nights, but finding only the hungry presence of the vagrants who surrounded me. Frightened, I waited as darkness overcame the small gathering and she failed to make an appearance. What was I to do I wondered, scanning the cruel eyes and urine soaked clothing of the men who gathered ever closer to my refuge. How could I….

"You alone tonight, Girlie?" a voice whispered menacingly from the darkness. "You ain't got Selma to take care of you no more. She ain't coming back…but I am."

Averting my eyes, I scuttled back against the far wall of my cardboard shelter, hoping in vain that my tormentor would move along to greener pastures. Instead the Goliath moved closer, his large disheveled body filling the small opening of my enclosure until it seemed as though he had eclipsed the entire world. It was then I saw that there was not one, but three burly men pressing hotly into my diminutive space, and I began to cry.

"Leave me alone!" I pleaded, gathering my knees to my chest as salty tears cut trails down my grungy cheeks, "I'll scream!"

They laughed then, as though I had said something comedic. "Go ahead, Girlie. Scream all you like," Goliath replied, smirking. "Do you think anybody cares if somebody like you gets fucked-over now and then? You're garbage, and I'm the trash collector."


My tormentors quickly surrounded me, pinning me to the pavement and forcing my wrists above my head. Terrified, I opened my mouth and screamed, hoping against hope that they had been wrong. Instead, a resounding clout sent stars spinning madly behind my eyelids.

"Shut up, Bitch," another voice intruded, "…or I'll cut your throat." Then, stuffing a filthy rag into my mouth, they began to tear at my clothing, grouping at my shivering flesh with their unwashed paws.

Oh how I wished I had never left home! I had trusted Lee to take care of me, to marry me and be mine forever. Instead, he had been little better than these men who were now stripping the last vestiges of my innocence from me. I had saved my virginity for my husband, and now I would have it torn from me by not one, but three brutal rapists in a filthy alleyway far, far from home. Life was a cruel joke indeed.

The smell of unwashed bodies filled the tiny enclosure as I heard the first zipper hiss in the darkness. Immediately, another followed, and I felt the hard press of a blade against my cheek. Rough hands spread my thighs, and cold fingers parted my quivering sex.

"It's that sweet mouth I want," the second voice grumbled in the darkness. "You can have that puss, but I'm gonna teach this bitch how to suck." Suddenly, my head was imprisoned between a pair of hairy thighs, blotting out the crude fumbling that threatened my virginity below.

Again the second voice pierced the stillness. "I'm takin' this rag out, Girlie, and replacing it with somethin' better. And you're gonna take it, hear? You're gonna take it all the way down…no teeth, or I'm gonna cut you. Understand?"

It was dark now, so dark, but the mere smell of his member was enough to cause the gorge to rise in my throat. Why hadn't I just given Lee what he wanted? Surely anything was better than this!

Groping in the darkness, the animal jammed his thumbs into the corners of my mouth, forcing my lips apart and battering his musky sex against my teeth. Immediately, I began to gag, and his laughter filled the enclosure. "Open up, Bitch. Daddy's coming," he sneered, and thrust once again.

The brute between my thighs now pinned my legs apart with his knees and began to probe my slit with his filthy organ. I tried to protest, tried to fight, but it only elicited another blow to the side of my head and a gale of laughter from my tormentors. Then, just as I felt his hardened rod threatening my chastity, the cardboard hovel was torn from its position around us and a skirmish ensued. Rough voices filled the unlit gloom of the alleyway, and desperate footsteps scurried in retreat.

Finally, I heard a tiny click, and a beam of light blinded me from above. "Girl, you do NOT belong here," my rescuer commented with slow and easy emphasis. "You'd better come with me."

Grateful for my reprieve, whatever it might entail, I rose from the pavement and attempted to gather my tattered rags about me. My Samaritan scanned my body then, the beam of his flashlight assessing the remains of my garments. "Here, take this," he offered, wrapping a long, uniform jacket about my shoulders. "It'll do for the moment," he said. Then, leading me from the alley, he placed me in what appeared to be an official vehicle of some sort, and we slowly made our way from the slums toward the upscale part of town.

The glow from the streetlights now glared brightly through the windshield, displaying the face of the man who had delivered me from my erstwhile rapists. It was a kind face, but world-weary. His eyes spoke of an intent I was yet to discover as we silently covered the miles through the well-lit streets and out into the countryside. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, we turned down a long, narrow lane and left the dwindling bustle of traffic far behind.

After a few minutes a house, no…a mansion, appeared among the trees, and we came to a halt. "They're expecting you," my mysterious hero murmured. "Go inside and do as you're told. It's either this, or back to the streets, and I don't think you'd survive that."

Gently, he tugged the jacket from my shoulders and opened the car door from the inside. As if on cue, lights filled the windows of the mansion, and the heavy wooden door was thrown wide. I turned to my deliverer in askance, but he was already shifting the car into drive. "Go on, "he said, "…and make the best of it." And then he was gone.

A young woman now made her way down the sprawling steps toward me, a warm, woven robe held outstretched in her hands. Smiling, she wrapped it about my partially naked body, exposing a set of ornate leather cuffs which were tightly secured about her wrists.

She smiled, the backs of her fingers brushing inadvertently against my exposed breast (an accident?). "Don't worry about these bracelets, "she whispered in seductive tones. "You'll get used to them in no time. As a matter of fact, if you're very good, you'll have these and a collar to match."

So saying, she led me up the stone steps and into the well-lit interiors of the mansion. I had never seen such a place! All about me where the trappings of opulence. Graceful sculptures, nudes entwined in passion surrounding a clear and sparkling pool. Trees, full grown and heavy with succulent blossoms filled the room, serviced by a high atrium dome of clear glass. Marble floors passed beneath my feet as I was led from one magnificent room through another until finally my guide drew me into a chamber of women dressed in silken garments that did little to hide their voluptuous forms.

"This will seem strange at first," she smiled, her fingers stroking my cheek. "But, it's better than the alternatives out there. We'll prepare you now, and then the Master will decide if you will be allowed to stay."

Immediately, the women closed about me, taking from me the last shreds of my former life and assessing my recently formed attributes. "You're very slim," one commented. The Master will like that…and full breasted. He likes an ample bosom as well. But, oh…so small! Most men here at "The Manse" prefer their pleasures from one more…statuesque. But, you may be something unusual, tiny one. Perhaps you'll do."

Do? What would I be expected to "do"? Had I been rescued from one trial only to be delivered into another?

The women set to work then and drew a warm, scented bath to wash away the grime of the streets. Fragrant shampoo was gently massaged into my soiled hair until their fingers fairly lulled me into the first restful sleep I'd had in many days. Then, buffing my pink body with warm, fluffy towels, they pressed me naked into a salon chair and began to prepare me for their "Master"

Nimble fingers began to coax my auburn locks into a leonine coiffure, while a pair of smiling handmaidens laved scented oils over my glowing flesh. A forth spread wide my thighs and lathered my sex, a razor clasped in her hand, and began to draw it carefully over my heated mound and labia. Then, bearing a small pot of scented rouge, a beautiful woman of Nordic descent began to apply a delicate shade of dusky rose to both my nipples and nether lips. Finally, their task almost complete, the women of The Manse presented me with a silken garment designed to emphasize my attributes.

I was shocked! The dress, if that's what you could call it, was more of a skirted bustier that forced my naked breasts outward in a most lascivious manner, while cinching my waist until I could barely breathe. The skirt was split to the waist in both the front and the back and parted as I moved, exposing my body in a way that left nothing to the imagination. Undergarments were apparently not included in this costume, and the silken fabric brushed against my newly shaved mound in a most disturbing manner.

Finally, a set of thick, leather cuffs, not nearly as decorative as my guide's, were locked into place about my wrists and ankles. These were quickly joined by a matching collar secured closely about my throat. Then, their job completed, the women of The Manse led me down the finely carpeted corridor to the chambers of their Master for his approval.

The Master's salon was well appointed, reminiscent of an English drawing room. Here I found a blazing fire, before which the Master of the house sat clothed in a dressing gown, his hair-roughened chest naked and exposed. Apparently, he had been awaiting my arrival and briskly waived away my entourage, all except for the elegant Nordic woman who had so intimately attended me.

"So, you're the new girl, are you? Noelle is it?" he questioned. "A bit on the small side, I think, but with a body that may compensate perhaps."

I blushed. Never before had anyone so scrutinized me in this way. I wanted to run, to hide myself in the wilds beyond the great picture window, but I knew what lay beyond the security of these walls. I'd been there before, and I had suffered greatly.

"Come here," he ordered. "Let's see what Charles has brought me this time."

"Charles?" Was that the name of my rescuer? I hadn't known.

"Part your skirt, girl, and straddle my lap. Be quick about it!" he commanded.

Rapidly, my blond deliverywoman pressed me forward until I found myself spread immodestly astride the Master's lap, my sex wide and gaping between his knees.

Now he took his time, apparently enjoying his task as his hands stroked my tingling flesh, kneading my breasts and roughly pinching my nipples until they reddened against his dusky palms. Then, a slow smile crossing his lips, he thrust his hand between my thighs and began to examine my shaven slit.

I gasped! His finger began to press painfully into the untried flesh of my hymen until I was certain that my virginity would be delivered into his hand at any moment. My eyes began to mist, and he smiled. "Unbroken, are we then? Have you ever sucked a man's cock, Girl…or had him take you from behind?"

I blushed furiously, thinking of the many times I had denied Lee this liberty, only to end up in this place! Then, shaking my head, I lowered my moistened gaze to the garment-covered prominence that seemed to be growing upward between my outspread thighs.

"You're a tempting bundle," the Master grinned, "but you're worth more intact that not…so I won't take you just yet. Gretchen, come here," here ordered heatedly. "Give me your mouth."

At once the blond goddess moved me to the side and began to kneel beneath the opening of her Master's dressing gown. What she did there I couldn't be certain, but at once she began to rock back and forth like a child's hobby horse. Long minutes passed as I watched the Master's face slowly contort into a mask of controlled ecstasy. Finally he emitted a low moan, and grabbing Gretchen's hair he rutted against her until at last, satisfied, he slumped backward into his chair once more.

"Now her," he said slowly. "I want to see how she responds." Then, patting his knees, he had Gretchen lay me backwards atop his lap and splay my legs over the arm of the chair.

At first I hesitated, but the uncompromising look in his eyes left me no options…and so I obeyed. Wordlessly Gretchen knelt on the floor, her lips still slick from her Master's ministrations, her breath warm on my untried portal. There, she began to part my slit with her fingers and dip her talented tongue into my private sanctuary.

Ashamed and horror-stricken I shivered, closing my eyes in denial of what had come to pass. The Master, meanwhile, watched intently, his hands punishing my breasts, pinching my nipples until they stood abused and erect before him. Finally, his dressing gown horribly distended, he left me draped atop the chair and dropped to his knees directly behind his Nordic goddess.

At once Gretchen's body began to shake, as though under assault, and she lustily renewed her efforts between my thighs. With each savage thrust of her Master, she drove her tongue against me once more, her creamy lips sucking my sensitive nub until finally I found myself unable to resist her advances any longer. Then with a low whimper, I delivered myself into her waiting mouth, the shame of my condition more than I could bear.

Once more the Master moaned, and finally slumped atop Gretchen with a satisfied gasp. Then, pushing his concubine aside, he parted my dripping slit and examined the milky fluid that still oozed unabated from my tiny aperture.

"I think I have just the Master for you, Girl," he smiled, lapping at my overflowing sex. "You're young, naive and untried…yes…I think you'll be perfect." And with that, he waved his hand in the direction of the doorway and banished us from his chambers.

Gretchen then led me to a Spartan room on the third floor of the mansion, and after securing my wrists to the headboard she began to stroke my body with her fingertips. "You're so responsive," she commented as my nipples rose once more. "You'll do well at 'Belle Isle'. That's where you're going, you know. It's a paradise, a Caribbean island far from the prying eyes of the conventional the world. You'll find your Master there, if you're lucky. I suggest you try your hardest. Being in service to a Master isn't the worst thing that can happen to a woman, you know. But then I think you've had a taste of the alternatives, haven't you?"

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byKatherine English 2© 4 comments/ 99867 views/ 25 favorites

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