Interview Ch. 03: The Body Servant

The watersports warning applies to this chapter, as well as some more extreme BDSM scenarios.

Thank you again to everyone who's been rating and especially giving feedback on the stories. I appreciate hearing from readers.

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"I'll take it," to the shady salesman of my first car.

"I love you," to my first boyfriend right after he took my virginity.

"I'm game," to my sorority sister when she passed out pills.

All of them are things I shouldn't have said, hallmarks of stupid decisions. I wonder for a day and a half if "I want to be there for it" needs to go on that list.

Where some people look forward to a weekly after-work drink session with their coworkers on Thursday nights, I'm packing an overnight bag, trying to figure out what the appropriate attire is for staying with a multimillionaire in his mansion and interviewing his sex slaves. Some would argue it's "nothing"; he's clearly had no compunction about undressing in front of me; he dropped his pants and started having sex with Alexa with me less than a foot away. He's also said multiple times he's not trying to seduce me. I don't have a reason to disbelieve him; he has three women who willingly and literally bend over for him whenever he wants, most of them with more attractive bodies than mine, at least conventionally. There's the star factor to consider, except it's all but confirmed he enjoyed the full and intimate company of one of the country's top pop stars for a year or more. I'm a local news anchor. On Saturday mornings. Sure it can get me drinks for free with the right crowd, but Talbot's circles are much higher.

Fixating on the clothes is, of course, a distraction. What I don't want to think about is my request, borderline demand, that I be present when he punishes Alexa. I got my instructions from Talbot in a hand-delivered message slipped under my door in the morning. I imagine he gave the doorman a nice bonus to do that. The paper is black with gold embossing on the front saying "Invitation." Inside, the writing is neat, flourishing cursive you don't see outside of period dramas, but I can tell it's been handwritten in silver ink.

They're my instructions for the evening. I'm informed a car will pick me up at 9:00pm and take me to Talbot's house. I have driven myself every other time, and my car was returned by someone after he called a car for me last time, but apparently I'm to be conveyed by carriage.

The note also includes a warning at the bottom.

"You will be delving much deeper into my lifestyle, and my secrets. The realities disturb many people. I can promise you nothing you will see or experience is illegal or dangerous, but it stretches the sensibilities of delicate folk. You have expressed misgivings about your experiences. I can promise you those misgivings will increase. I can also promise that sticking with them, and pushing through them, can open up a new perspective for you. But if you do not wish to embark on that journey, please call the number below. Simply say "cancel order 4878." Everything will be taken care of, and I will bid you a good future. Otherwise, I look forward to seeing you Thursday evening."

My hand stays on my phone for the whole day after receiving that note. I lose count of the times I pull it out. Slightly less often I open my phone app and start dialing. Once I let it ring.

In the end I stand on the curb outside my building, overnight bag with laptop and tablet in hand. I also have a garment bag with the dress from the other evening; there is no way I want to be responsible for keeping that dress. A black towncar pulls up and the driver lets me into the leather upholstered back seat.

It's fully dark by the time I arrive at the mansion. Talbot greets me at the door, which is somewhat different. Every other time I've been met by Rose (her "nothing but an apron" attire had been my first shock of the whole endeavor). Rose does appear to take my things, then he escorts me to the kitchen where there is some cordial and a light snack. The round table brings back a shocking amount of feelings, but this offering isn't served on Alexa's naked body.

We make small talk about some current events. He asks my opinion about some local politics and odd news stories he's come across. He's very adept at meaningless small talk that nonetheless applies directly to my interests. I play along for a while, but the anxiety and the tension builds to a breaking point within me.

Eventually I blurt out, "How did you know my sizes?"

I expect him to be confused and ask for an explanation, but he just smiles slightly. "One of the businesses I owned for a time was a design house. I got close with the head designer. She educated me about sizing and women's garments of all types. Also because of my...personal interests...I've developed a keen ability to size a woman up."

Unspoken between us is the knowledge that "size a woman up" only partly has to do with her figure and measurements.

"We have some business now," Talbot finally says.

I nod and follow him. He leads me down some stairs to a basement. At first it is what I would expect from such a building; dusty, unfinished concrete foundation making up the lower area (the mansion isn't an older one; it was built 50 years ago at most). But then he leads me to a finished wall and unlocks a heavy door. As it swings open, I see the inside is padded.

I walk into a dungeon right out of a BDSM porn set, or the staging for 50 Shades of Grey. Padded walls with deep red upholstery, dark brown wood accents, the occasional full length mirror on the walls, and furniture featuring a lot of rings and chains with leather padding.

"Wait here for me to return," he says.

He leaves me in the room alone. It is eerily quiet; I can tell the room soaks up sound. I have no idea how long he'll be gone so I don't explore, but it isn't hard to guess what I would find if I peek in the drawers and cabinets.

I don't check the time but it isn't too long before the door opens again. Alexa comes in slowly, her head down, her whole posture nervous. Talbot steps in behind her. Alexa glances around skittishly and then notices me and tenses.

"M-master?" she says.

I'm amazed at the difference. Gone is the cocksure, aggressive woman from the other day. I don't even see evidence of the wanton sexpot from the dinner or the party. Alexa is scared. I begin to worry exactly what I asked to be involved in.

"Strip," Talbot says.

Alexa's eyes are still locked on me. If she heard Talbot she doesn't react. That proves to be a grave error.

Talbot's hand snaps out and grabs her by the hair. Her own hands go up to grip his and she whimpers a bit.

"I hope you weren't overly fond of this outfit," Talbot says.

There's a click and I see him holding an imposing fold-out knife in his hand. He places the point in the middle of her back and Alexa goes stock still, as most people would, I think. She came in wearing a sports bra and bicycle shorts like the ones she wore when she visited me before the party. He slides the knife up her back. He only needs to pull the knife a little bit for it to split the bottom seam of her sports bra; the blade must be razor sharp. With the tension gone, her breasts drop a little below the fabric, the curve of her underboob visible now. Keeping a grip on her head, he reaches around and pulls at the bra. She lets her hands fall from his arm so he can pull it off, and then lets them fall at her side. Next he makes a simple cut on the waistband of her shorts. The rest of the shorts are loose enough that they simply fall off when the elastic is severed. Under the shorts, unlike her visit with me, she has on a pretty purple thong with jewels running along the seams.

"M-master-"

"You know the rules," he says.

Another "snick" of the knife and the pretty lingerie comes apart. The strings hang on the curve of her ass and wedged between her legs until Talbot yanks. The thong comes away with a snap of the string and falls to the floor. Based on her expression and protest, I get the sense the thong was a special one for her. He turns her to face me.

I feel like I shouldn't be aroused. She is still a fit, beautiful woman, naked, all of her treasures exposed for me to see. But she has tears in her eyes and her expression is anything but seductive. Despite that (or, worryingly, because of it), I still feel a little quiver between my thighs as I see her standing there.

"You visited my guest as I told you to on Tuesday night," Talbot says, "Tell me, did I tell you to tease her? Seduce her?"

"N-no Master," she says, whimpering.

"Did you do it anyway?" he asks.

She tries to nod, but his hand still has her hair in a tight grip. He jerks it back harder.

"Yes! Yes I did," she says, almost fully sobbing now.

"Did you take care of her? Give her an orgasm?" he asks.

"She...she told me to leave before I could," Alexa explains. I guess she hopes my dismissal of her absolves her of guilt for the encounter.

"She wouldn't have been worked up in the first place if you hadn't made her that way," Talbot says. He doesn't yell, but his tone and inflection are vicious, almost palpable. Then he looks at me.

"Do you want her to service you?" he asks.

I'm too confused and wrapped up in what's going on. I don't know where it comes from exactly, but my instinctive response is to ask, "Does she enjoy going down on women?"

There is a pause as Talbot looks at her. Her eyes are locked on me in a pleading expression, but even if I wanted to help, I don't know how.

"Answer," Talbot snaps, and Alexa flinches as if he hit her.

"I...yes," she says.

"Then no, I don't want her to service me," I say.

I tell myself my refusal is because I'd be embarrassed to expose myself in front of Talbot, and I'm not in the mood. One is a half-truth, one is a full lie.

Talbot turns Alexa toward what I realize is a pommel-horse, though it's set up lower than what you'd find at a gym. He frog-marches her forward and pushes her down on it so her stomach and hips rest on the main pad. He places her hands on the two rungs and attaches padded cuffs that are chained to the rungs. Her knees are on two padded platforms, though their positioning means she has to spread her legs to keep her knees supported. As I walk around to a different angle, I see her breasts hang freely off the other side. Her hair hangs down, mostly covering her face.

"Master please! Please, I'll do anything," Alexa pleads.

"You're my slave, of course you'll do anything," Talbot replies, "That's why you'll accept this punishment and think about what you've done."

As he talks, he wheels over a contraption I hadn't noticed when glancing around the room. It looks like a large fish hook set on a base, with a small rod sticking up at one end and some shorter ones at the end of the hook. The base is square and has a touchscreen built into it.

"Master! Master please-ahhhh!"

Alexa's voice cut off with a shriek and then she resumed sobbing. I look and see Talbot holding a short rod of bamboo, and an angry line of red welling up across Alexa's ass. Talbot beckons me over and then hands me the cane.

"I don't want to hear her talking anymore," he says, "If she speaks, feel free to use this. Strike lightly or you'll draw blood."

He walks off toward one of the cabinets.

"M-M-Miss-"

I don't even register that I've acted until there's a shriek from Alexa and a crying sound behind me and I notice another red line rising on her ass, slightly lighter than the first one. What I do notice is the unmistakable feeling of a thrill at what I just did. I have to resist the urge to do it again and chase that feeling.

Talbot comes back over and doesn't seem to notice or care what I did. He starts explaining his device instead.

"This was custom designed for me a while ago, using some really ingenious mechanisms and programming. I use it for intense training. Unfortunately despite being in my service for years now, Alexa still has some things to learn."

After that pronouncement, he bends down. I see him put clamps on her nipples, both connected by a dangling, thick gold chain. Then he moves the long arm of the machine and hooks the chain onto the rod poking up from it. That finished, he straightens up and continues speaking.

"Alexa here has always been averse to ass play, and she's really bad at faking it. Obviously for someone that's supposed to be entertainment for my guests, that's an issue; many of them enjoy anal play. But it bothers her enough that I go easy on the training. Fortunately her current situation is a perfect excuse.

As he speaks, he attaches two things to the spokes on the "hook" arm behind Alexa. One seems to be a simple rounded rod. The other is a dildo with realistic and impressive proportions, though not extreme ones.

He crouches down to the touchpad, then looks up and says, "Watch."

He enters commands and the machine moves. I'm a little shocked at first to see the dildo start leaking fluid, and I realize it's pushing lube out of a realistic opening where piss or cum would come out of a real penis. The hook arm is moving forward, pushing the dildo into Alexa's anus and the rounded rod into her vagina. When they make contact her sobbing and squirming increases, but unless she wants to hurt herself she can't really move as she is penetrated in both holes. After a moment or two Talbot stands up and comes up next to me.

"Once it's in place, the upper attachment begins thrusting, applying lube at regular intervals. The bottom attachment is a sensor. As you know, when a woman has an orgasm, the muscles in the vagina contract in a somewhat irregular pattern. From previous exposure, it has a record of what all the women's orgasms feel like from the inside. At the other end, the long arm will start pulling down on that chain, putting more and more pressure on her nipples, though it stops before they or the chain come off. Every time she has an orgasm, the arm loosens and relieves the pressure on her nipples. And the only stimulation she's getting is from the dildo fucking her ass."

We stand and watch as his description becomes reality. The curved arm stops moving forward, with maybe two inches of each attachment visible outside of Alexa. Then the dildo beings pumping. Alexa groans, but it doesn't sound like pleasure, just the noises of someone trying to come to terms with something pumping into their rectal passage. The chain between her breasts, previously a bit loose, is already taught, though it hasn't pulled her nipples down much that I can see.

"I hope you consider this adequate punishment," Talbot says.

"Does the pain on her nipples help with her orgasm?" I ask.

Talbot shakes his head. "Alexa hasn't shown any indications of being a pain slut. The initial pulling may be pleasurable for her, but I would guess she only gets to enjoy that stage for about three minutes before it gets painful."

I see Alexa's breasts heaving as she breathes heavily, trying to cope with her situation.

"How long is this going to last?" I ask.

"All night," Talbot replies.

I look over in shock. "That's...eight hours!?"

Talbot shakes his head. "The machine is on a timer. One hour on, one hour off. But the cycle continues until I stop it. That won't be until tomorrow morning."

My mouth is open in disbelief, and prompts Talbot to continue, "Her primary purpose and duty as a slave in my household is as an entertainer, Miss Poacher. She does occasionally entertain me or the other girls, but mostly it's entertainment for my guests. And what does she do? She's combative with you in your interviews, and she plays seduction and teasing games with you. My guest. Arguably one of the more important guests I've had at the house during Alexa's tenure. She flaunted and failed in her primary duties. If she can't perform those, I have no use for her. This should hammer that home for her."

I close my mouth and swallow. My eyes lock onto the tableau in front of me, the woman who all but taunted me days ago bound, at the mercy of a machine that's probing her holes, forcing her to endure pain unless she orgasms in a way she resists. Her muscles twitch and shift in reaction or resistance. The round heart shape of her ass is split open by the relentless thrusting of the dildo, the lube and other fluids beginning to froth at the redness of her anal ring. The globes of her breasts elongate from gravity, but the distention is getting worse from the pull of the chain as the arm moves slowly and inexorably downward.

Alexa lets out a moaning sob and the twitch I feel between my legs scares me.

"Can we go?" I ask.

I see Talbot regard me for a moment, reminding me of his gaze at the party, but he nods and leads me out and up eventually to the second floor. I'm surprised when he leads me all the way to a bedroom door and then precedes me into the room.

Inside the bedroom is tasteful and old fashioned, but lacks the warmth of the room I changed in before the party. Through an open door I can see a bathroom slightly larger than the one from the other room. Two queen beds are inside, reminding me of a hotel room. Also inside, waiting by the bed, is Sally, dressed in another robe that appears vaguely Asian, but is much simpler and reminds me of a bathrobe.

Talbot waits while I look around the room, but then catches my eye. After a pause, he asks, "Do you want me to summon Rose? I can step out if you prefer."

"No, I'll be fine," I say immediately.

There's another pause, then Talbot says, "Miss Poacher. You should not be ashamed of your reactions and you shouldn't deny them."

"How do you know what my reactions are?" I asked.

"I told you before, I'm very good at sizing women up. Do me the courtesy of the truth. You didn't ask to leave because you were disturbed or tired, did you?"

I can't muster up the nerve to respond aloud, but I do shake my head.

"I understand completely."

"I don't see you summoning Rose," I retort.

"Because while I can derive pleasure from such scenes, the reality is other emotions are more at the forefront. Frustration, anger, and disappointment that this is even necessary. I must also allow her recovery time, so Alexa will be useless to me for a few days after this. Going into the weekend, you can imagine the inconvenience."

"I'm sorry," I say.

"You should apologize for nothing," Talbot says immediately, "Alexa behaved grossly inappropriately. This is her doing and her fault, not yours. And I would be irresponsible to her and our agreement if I didn't follow through with the punishment."

"But I made you wait until today," I said.

Talbot shrugged, "That may be for the best. The false belief that she got away with it for a time makes the harshness of the discovery and punishment hit that much harder. Now, are you sure you don't want Rose's services?"

"No," I say, "I'm...a little less in the mood now."

"As you wish. Sally, attend me."

Sally moves immediately and walks up to Talbot. I watch her undress him quickly and professionally, probably similar to how valets did it for noblemen in ages past.

"Do you need relief, Master?" she says. It's the first time I hear her speak. Her voice is higher than I expect but soft as well.

"Yes Sally."

She drops to her knees and pulls his boxers down, exposing his penis. Despite what he just said, he's flaccid; it doesn't look like he needs an erection deflated with her attentions. I think maybe he wants her to start from scratch at first, then the realities of Talbot's household blindside me once again.

She takes him into her mouth, only about halfway. Then they both seem to simply stay there in their places. It takes me a moment to notice Sally's throat is working. It takes me another moment to realize she's swallowing. It's only after she releases his cock and licks it a few times, then around her lips, that I realize what I've just seen.