Over the Lap of Luxury Pt. 02

Notes: Mostly F/m in this section but some F/f as well. Thank you for your feedback on the first part! Very appreciated! I have moved my series to the nonconsent category only due to lack of safewords during punishments. There is no rape. This is a fantasy-fiction where the domme intuitively understands her subs' needs and limits. BDSM shouldn't be practiced this way in real life. Also, as far as I know, I've created the fictional products and names. If they exist in other works it's a coincidence.

Asher took only a moment to skim through the rules, schedule, and expectations. This decision would later be the cause of most of his misery. But, truth be told, he only took a moment because he thought he'd have more time later. That was a very wrong assumption.

So he flipped through the rules too quickly. They awaited him in a little packet on the kitchen table, bound in plastic like a book report. He used the information in the morning routine section to guide him. After waking up, he was expected to work out in the gym or indoor pool.

So, moments later, Asher perspired through his regulation T-shirt and shorts as he jogged. The treadmill adjusted to his fitness level and let him run trails both real and fictional, displayed on a screen taller than he was. He ran a trail through blue forests in a procedurally generated fantasy realm and smiled far more than usual while working out.

After showering and dressing in his uniform, he checked the kitchenette, hungry for breakfast. It was stocked with a wide variety of fruit, vegetables, oats, whole wheat bread, and other healthy foods. Portia was treating him like her Bentley, filling Asher with only the highest quality fuel.

It was time to meet Portia right after breakfast, so he pocketed his cell phone and wallet out of habit and looked all over for his apartment key. Right. No key anymore. No apartment either. This was it for the foreseeable future.

The first thing Portia did upstairs was take away his wallet and phone. "Ugh," she said, patting down his pants back to a nice smooth flatness against his thighs. "No, no, no. They're too bulky for your uniform pockets. You don't even need a wallet when you're with me. And why is this phone so big? How old is this thing?"

She went on to quickly inspect his uniform while he quietly reeled. Didn't she know phones made in the last four years all got stolen out there? Not like he could afford a better one, anyway. Before he could say a word, Portia led him to the waiting car. He felt oddly vulnerable outside with his empty pockets.

"We're hopefully getting you a new roommate today," said Portia, stroking fingers gently through his wavy hair. She made him feel like her little lapdog, petting at him like this. Not that he minded one bit. "I do hope you'll be friends."

This time there was a line of young ladies, all in a row like the guys had been the day before. They were in a different building today, an uptown branch of Darrow-Tech.

Mrs. Darrow only picked two out of the lineup. Both had brown hair, like his own. If Portia had a type, maybe that was it right there. The shorter of the two had an especially sweetly pretty look, and when Asher met her eyes she gave him a curious once over, eyes scanning him quickly up and down, followed by a bashful grin directed more towards the floor.

Asher was in the room this time before a single candidate came in to pass or fail Portia's sneaky test of submission. This was how he learned that they were not entirely picking and choosing at random. It was not based on looks alone.

Raj tapped at his tablet. "Natalie has watched the leaked videos at least fifty times in total, but almost entirely focuses on males being punished. With all due respect, ma'am, she may be more interested in taking a dominant role."

"Asher focused almost entirely on females being punished and he worked out," said Portia. "Didn't you, dear?

He was blushing so much now that even his ears were bright red. All he could do was admit the truth with one bob of his head.

"Oh, honey. You should know by now that I put a lot of thought into my possessions. I didn't want a servant who's just in it for the money. What fun is that?"

Raj continued once Portia turned back his way. "The other girl, Molly, will watch anyone being punished by anyone else, has even more total views than Asher, and has once reported in an 'anonymous' post that she'd been consensually spanked by a past boyfriend."

"I do agree, there's more hope that Molly would enjoy the lifestyle," said Portia.

Enjoy the lifestyle? he thought.

"Maybe we should start with Molly."

Asher was told to wait just outside in the hall. Soon Molly left the elevator. Her hair was straight and silky, brushing just over her shoulders. Her whole face was pretty, if a bit porcelain. Big brown eyes, pink soft lips. She seemed kind, too. Right as Molly passed, she said hello to him the same exact way she said it to Raj, who had a far higher standing.

"Hi," he told her.

Big mistake.

As Molly entered the room to take a seat, Portia took Asher by the wrist and whispered to him outside. "She is above your station, Asher. She is a 'ma'am' to you unless she chooses to accept the job. Never greet anyone so inappropriately again! Did you not fully read the booklet?"

He didn't fully read the booklet. Asher shook his head, fearing that lying would be even worse. "No, ma'am. I haven't finished it yet. I'm so sorry."

She sighed heavily. "You're going to be spanked for that before we leave today, young man."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, heart racing. Anxiety and anticipatory excitement could sometimes be indiscernible.

He did know enough from the rules booklet to hold the door for Portia as she entered the office, and to gently close and latch it behind her. Then he stood against the wall, his hands folded at the small of his back. He had no intention of making his spanking worse.

This latched door left little to the imagination. Asher, from the hallway, could hear just about anything spoken at a level higher than a whisper. It did not bode well for his own future, he knew.

Raj and Portia pulled the same trick on Molly that they used on himself. She was suddenly and credibly accused of stealing office supplies.

To Asher's shock, there was the abrupt sound of Molly bursting into tears. "I stole some coloured gel pens. I thought they were pretty. I'm s-so sorry. Pl-please don't fire me. I'm so sorry."

Surely, no one expected an actual confession. There was a pause from the office, and then Raj went on with it. The script still worked, even if she did confess. So he told Molly the score. She'd take a spanking just like a servant. It would teach her a good lesson and all would be instantly forgiven.

Asher didn't hear the girl's response, but he heard chairs being rearranged. A moment later, there was the sound of an embarrassed squeal and a pleading, "I'm sorry!"

"Stealing anything is a very naughty thing to do," admonished Portia.

"I won't do it again!"

Every single spank echoed past the door and into the hallway. It was suddenly quite warm in the long corridor. His imagination went wild. Maybe Portia flipped up her skirt and yanked down her panties because she actually stole something. Her bottom would be turning pink as she took smack after smack.

"I'm sorry!" cried Molly.

"Young lady, put your hands back on the ground," said Portia. Molly was covering her bottom. What would Portia do if she tried that again? Hold her arm back? Tie her wrists? Asher tried to stop letting his thoughts run rampant and get a hold of himself. His excitement over this situation was too evident for someone who had to keep his hands folded behind his back.

"I'm soorrrryyyy!! I'm sorrrryy!! I won't do it again!"

It was clear from this alone that Molly had the mindset Portia wanted. Yet, the spanking continued. Asher only moved his hands for a second, after a quick check left and right. He adjusted himself in his trousers, hiding his arousal as best he possibly could.

"It's not that harsh a spanking, Molly. You're just embarrassed."

A sort of whimpering sob indicated that Portia was correct.

"Well, you're learning a good lesson either way."

It seemed like such a long spanking. A whole long minute or more had gone by, and still he heard the unmistakable sound of a hand disciplining a bottom. Molly yelped and sometimes even cried out her pain in childish-sounding wails.

A couple of higher-ups walked past, all business and long strides until they noticed the distinct sound from that closed door. They turned to one another and shared an amused laugh. "This happened at the central branch, yesterday."

Asher cringed, knowing word had gotten around about his experience yesterday. There would be much worse humiliation to come, of course.

Inside the office, the spanking had just come to a close. There were some hushed susurrations. Portia may have been soothing her to some degree. She did the same after his bedtime spanking the night before.

"Will you ever steal office supplies again?"

"No, ma'am!"

The door opened. Asher straightened up in an instant. Portia sent Molly to face the wall, instructing her position and telling her they'd talk again in a few minutes. She pressed her face into the wall as though trying to hide away.

Without so much as a word, Portia took hold of Asher's hand and pulled him into the office. Then, to his utter horror, she didn't even really latch the door. It was left ajar enough that anyone with the gall to do it could peek right in by leaning close. Molly would hardly have to try very hard to take a quick peek. And there'd be absolutely no barrier for sound.

"Asher, bare your bottom and bend over the desk immediately."

There was no fighting it. "Yes, ma'am," he said shyly. He glanced up at Raj, who had the good grace to busy himself with his tablet. It was so embarrassing.

He obediently walked to the side of the desk and pulled down his pants and briefs, bending as fast as he could. The alien feeling of cool air against his naked skin made him shamefully uncomfortable. An office - a real office in a real business - was no place for this sensation.

Portia pushed at his back until he was bent ninety degrees over the desk, hands gripping the other side. It was only slightly less embarrassing than being deposited over her knees.

"Apologize for what you've done," she told him.

"I'm sorry, ma'am."

"In detail, Asher."

"I'm sorry that I addressed someone above my station disrespectfully and that I didn't fully read and memorize the rules and regulations, ma'am."

"Better," she said.

A drawer opened while Asher lay over the desk, bare and humiliated. His pants and underwear were around his ankles. The sensation only increased the pure shame of t. To his side, at the business end of the desk, Portia removed a ruler from the front drawer.

It was highly flexible plastic, as Portia showed him by bending it all the way back. She went around the desk and stood to the side of his bottom. He felt his naked flesh quivering in fright. She tapped it against him, taking aim, and he grimaced in anticipation, gripping the desk hard.

The lightweight implement snapped against his skin again and again, rapid-fire. It was a surface-level stinging sensation, and some of the whacks were just hard enough to elicit a helpless breathy yelp. It was a loud spanking, too. Was that why she picked the flexible ruler? It whipped hard against his taut skin, each smack reverberating through the small office.

"Oh! Ah Aahh!' he began to complain. Even a fairly light spanking has an effect after a full minute straight. Asher gripped the desk even harder, knuckles whitening.

The whole thing was intensely shameful. He had to take every spank, knowing Molly was hearing it all, Raj was witnessing it, and for all he knew a group of people were about to walk down the hallway. And he couldn't stop the little outcries that made it so the loud smacking sound wouldn't be mistaken for anything else.

"I'm sorry, ma'am!" he tried.

She merely kept her hand on the small of his back, holding him in position as she soundly spanked him to a shade of red she deemed acceptable. The spanks had built up to a steady and strong sting. Each new smack seemed to make it exponentially worse.

When he complained again with an aahhhh, a whining cry, she simply told him this wasn't the end of it. "Tonight you'll be writing out that entire rules book three times over by hand."

"By hand?"

"With a pen!" she said, a particularly hard crack of the ruler punctuating her statement. He gasped.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, defeated. The writing punishment would take at least a couple of long hours.

By this time, the ruler had done its job quite well. His bottom burned. The heat was noticeable enough for him to squirm a little over the desk.

"Alright, I want you to stand in the corner while I speak to Molly," she said, pointing to the back wall. Asher's eyes followed her finger to the corner and then flew back to Portia's, pleading silently. No, no, no. The place she picked out was right in front of the door, right in front of the chair Molly would take to speak to Portia. He would be so ashamed!

"Please..." he whispered.

"Now," she said, ruler still menacingly in hand.

"Yes, ma'am," he acquiesced. He stood and reached for his pants.

"No," said Portia. "You'll stand there with your red bottom on display. Keep your hands behind your back, hold your shirt up, and put your nose right in that corner. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Asher.

He had already regretted his mistake with skimming the manual, and now he deeply regretted it. There was no other option but to listen to his mistress, though. So he hobbled over to the corner, pants down to his ankles, restricting his movement. He pressed his nose into the corner as instructed, which made his naked backside jut out ever so slightly.

The door opened wide as Molly's presence was requested back inside. Asher was mortified to be in this position, prominently displayed like that. A thought occurred to him. Did Portia put him there on purpose? It could serve as a promise of the future of getting certain sexual fantasies met, or at least that she'd often enjoy Asher's disgrace.

Even if that was the purpose, he was no less ashamed, standing there half naked while Molly spoke to Portia quietly about the job offer. Largely, it was the same speech Asher got. A promise of total safety and gainful employment and living accommodations. Another promise of discipline and pleasure.

"Yes," said Molly quietly.

Maybe Portia gave her a look, because Molly corrected her statement.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Sign here."

He heard the pen against the paper, the snap of the smart-band around Molly's wrist, and Portia's fingernails against her phone screen. She got the same treatment he had gotten the day before. A bodyguard was assigned to keep Molly safe, and she was given a couple hours to collect her things.

Portia went to Asher and leaned over to whisper good boy in his ear. It was all but certain now that his complete humiliation this morning was part of her grand plan to get the female servant she wanted most. Admittedly, Asher quite understood the desire.

He was allowed to dress, and had a significant amount of trouble looking anywhere but the carpet. "We have about three hours before Molly arrives," she told Raj. He gave her a polite nod. "I want to go shopping."

The chauffeur drove them some thirty minutes before stopping outside large black gates. Two giant and unmissable signs indicated "No Minors Allowed." Security guards surrounded the gated entrance with stern looks and crossed arms, walkie-talkies hooked on belts at the ready. They eyed Asher through the window, raising eyebrows at him, silently mocking his meek method of surviving this dystopia. One of them opened the gates at the chauffeur's request.

"There's another shopping district suitable for families," said Portia. "This one is a lot more fun though. And usually much quieter. Usually."

Asher became instantly anxious about what her idea of fun would entail.

The chauffeur headed through the gates and right into a little picturesque shopping district he'd never seen before. It was quaint, with cobblestone sidewalks, beautiful shops and services, and, strangely enough, not one destitute person in sight. Asher didn't know a single place like this existed in the whole world.

There were other servants in this hidden village. They were dressed in their uniforms and smart-bands that made them stand out against anyone else there. Their heads were normally slanted down towards the cobblestone, following a couple feet behind their employers.

There was another class of shopper in the district: Wealthy individuals who didn't have the money or sizeable mansion needed to attain a servant of their own. In other words, very respectable people a couple of steps below the Darrows on the social ladder.

Portia seemed to revel in the envious looks her direction. Now it was no longer only at her designer clothes and accessories. Now most eyes were on Asher, one of the most expensive and enjoyable toys a woman could currently possess. There were head-turns and approving nods and whispers between friends.

Seeing all this, Asher quietly suspected that the only reason the lower-upper-class were even allowed inside was to provide a proper audience of admirers. It worked. The positive attention truly put Portia in a delightfully good mood. Asher seemed forgiven after his embarrassing ruler spanking and before his upcoming writing.

"Come on. Let's get you a little treat. Do you want a treat? Hmm?"

"Yes, please. Thank you, Mrs. Darrow."

It was just the two of them, now. Portia walked Asher to a cafe and gave him instructions on her personal order. Then she added, "Get yourself one drink and one snack from the display. Pay with the smart-band. It's linked to one of my accounts."

Asher moved to wait in line as Portia sat down at a table outside. In front of him stood another servant required to wait in line. He was also in his early twenties, with dark blonde hair and a blue and white uniform. He was squirming a bit on his feet, clearly uncomfortable. His smart-band also said SERVANT, but the letters were dark red. Turning, he whispered, "You're new?"

"How did you know?"

"Your band. Green means you're in training."

"Oh. Just hired yesterday. Does red mean fully trained?"

"I wish," he laughed softly. "Blue means fully trained. Who's your mistress?"

"Mrs. Darrow."

"Damn. Lucky. She's always been nice whenever she's punished me. She really knows what she's doing."

Mrs. Darrow had spanked this other servant? Even before she had a servant of her own? Clearly, servants were shared a little bit between friends. Asher rocked back and forth on his shoes nervously a couple of times. That must have been in the contract he signed. Reading was his favourite hobby and yet he couldn't thoroughly and carefully read two major documents! The regret burned through him.

By this time, the other servant was up to order. Asher couldn't help but notice that he only got his mistress' order, and nothing for himself. For Asher's turn, he chose a blueberry muffin and a small coffee, purposefully matching Mrs. Darrow's order in the hopes that it would please her.

One swipe of his wrist over the reader and it was all paid. Asher couldn't remember the last time he just paid for something without calculating out his monthly budget in his head.

When he returned with the muffins and coffees, Mrs. Darrow gave him a serious look.