Scapegoat Pt. 03

Eloise awoke to the sensation of Douglas Trainer sucking her breasts. Her breasts were full, and Douglas happily nursed for a long time. In an epiphany, Eloise now understood why her young master had asked the doctor to supply the hormones that caused her milk to drop. It was a way of being intimate that went beyond a roll in the hay or a cuddle. It was drawing sustenance from a partner. Just as Douglas and her young master injected their seed into Eloise, both drew something out. Something personal, life-sustaining, and sweet. It was a profound insight.

Presently, Douglas came up for air.

"I think I love you, Eloise."

"Are you sure you don't have me confused with your aunt?"

Douglas's smile widened, "Naughty! Naughty, slave! For that, you will have to kiss me."

They kissed for a long time.

Douglas's hand ran the length of Eloise's body. It came to rest at the juncture of her legs.

"I'm keeping this as a souvenir."

"Pardon?"

"Your bush. I'm taking it!"

"But..."

"I'm within my rights. Besides, slaves should be clean-shaven anyway."

Eloise allowed the words to settle in her psyche. Protesting was pointless. Douglas darted off to the bathroom for a moment and returned with a pair of cuticle scissors, a small bowl of warm water, a razor and shaving cream, and an empty mail envelope.

"Relax, Ellie. I'm an old hand at this."

The older woman parted her legs as Douglas centered himself between them. She stroked her feminine fur and mentally bid it goodbye. Would her young master allow her to grow it back? She didn't know, couldn't know until after the fact.

Eloise closed her eyes as Douglas gathered up the first bundle between his thumb and index finger and trimmed it as close to the skin as he dared.

Eloise's mind drifted back to the times he had shaved her. First, on their honeymoon, when she had to gently calm his frenzied hands lest he nick her with the razor. Then, as a husband of five years, he expertly and deftly chased down every follicle and confirmed his wife's smoothness with his adept tongue. She really missed Bob. As Douglas worked, Eloise spun a tale to tell her late husband. "You see, honey, I encountered Douglas Trainer at the dry cleaners. Oh, you didn't know he's filming on location here. Anyway, I said something about a big star such as him doing his own dry cleaning and one thing led to another. I took advantage of the hall pass YOU gave me. Now, don't look at me that way! Douglas also took a little memento to remember me by, but you'll have to undress me to find out what it was!"

And then Eloise would fly into Bob's arms, and they would make out like teenagers. Bob would undress her slowly and then marvel at the award-winning actor's handiwork.

"Nice as this is, Louise, you're growing it back immediately!" was the absent Bob's words in her ear. She stifled a chuckle.

Eloise heard the squirt of the shaving cream can and felt Douglas apply it to her nether regions. She opened her eyes. Douglas's face wore the same expression Bob's had when he prepared to shave her pussy. "Was this instinct universal among men?" she asked herself.

Eloise felt the gentle tug of the razor and the cool air on her now balding vulva. It was a not unpleasant sensation. She closed her eyes once more and just focused on the slow, deliberate tug of the razor and Douglas's fingers on her cunny. He was incredibly thorough, parting her lips gently in pursuit of every hair. His touch was confident, assured. Eloise relaxed completely.

Douglas wiped her dry with a corner of the bedsheet.

"Voilà!" he announced in a stage voice.

Eloise opened her eyes. Douglas was smiling. Somehow, he was even more handsome now than he had been the entire magical evening before. Her smile mirrored his.

His mouth closed in upon her sex.

The cunnilingus was the best so far. Eloise had forgotten just how sensitive she was there sans follicles. She squirmed as Douglas bore down her clitoris alive with sensation.

"Sweet Christ!" she bellowed as she exploded all over the actor's face. Then to the surprise and utter delight of both, Eloise fainted dead away.

When she came to, Douglas was gently stroking her hair.

"Wow!" she gasped.

"I must have you, Ellie!"

"What?"

"I'm serious. You are literally everything I've been looking for."

"Master Douglas, I believe that is just the sex talking."

"Like hell, this is only about the sex!"

"I'm flattered. I'm overwhelmed."

"And I'm head over heels in love!"

For the longest time, they stared at each other. Eloise could think of nothing to say, and Douglas had no desire to say anything more. At length, she excused herself to use the bathroom.

Sometime later, Eloise sat at the small table opposite Binna. The Korean woman wore a contented smile. Douglas and her young master sat at opposite ends. All quietly dined on the room service breakfast.

"Tim, you are the luckiest bastard on the planet."

"Hey, Doug, there is considerable skill in what I do. Betting isn't guesswork, you know."

"I'm not talking about that!" replied the actor as his gaze encompassed Eloise.

"You've done fine yourself, Doug. Binna is a dream."

"Unquestionably but dreams vary."

"Not sure I'm following you."

The actor slicked back his hair. "I need a few days, maybe longer, to contemplate and assess things. That number I texted you at is still valid, right?"

"It's my personal number."

"Good. I may be in touch about something personal."

"Sure, Doug," replied the young man not quite grasping the actor's meaning.

**

"Wow!" exclaimed the young Master as he contemplated and ran his hands over Eloise's bald snatch.

"Daddy, like!"

"So, you are going to keep it this way, boss?"

"For a little while at least. But I'll want you to grow it back at some point, if only to say I shaved you myself."

"OK, boss."

They were back at their hotel on the strip. Although the desire to make love was undeniable, an overarching sensation of simply wanting to savor the afterglow predominated. The young master dressed his slave in an attractive, relatively modest bikini while he donned swim trucks. For the rest of the day, they lazed by the pool, slowly nursing drinks. Tim even had their meals delivered poolside. This was the last of his complementary days' stay at the hotel. Business intruded on their day just a bit. From time to time, Tim had to answer contractually mandated phone calls and text messages. Mostly, however, both he and Eloise sat by the pool wearing inscrutable grins.

Very relaxed and very tan, they returned to their hotel room, undressed each other, and snuggled under the covers until sleep captured them. It was a phenomenally intimate moment.

Returning home was anticlimactic. Eloise was in her maid's garb carrying a bundle of laundry to the utility room. She gave her many unknown watchers a thrill when she wriggled out of her stained maid uniform and tossed it in with the current load. innocently, she completed the rest of her housekeeping tasks that day in the nude. The young master noted that this particular day of cleaning was a special favorite in frequent replay on Elle's Only Fans page. Sometimes he felt pangs of guilt in exploiting her this way, but the pangs always died against the wall of cash said exploitation brought in. He reminded himself that Ellie was a slave and as such had no right to privacy or any other right. This is what she signed up for when she became a scapegoat he reasoned.

Breaking up their routine, a young female journalist arrived to conduct an in-depth interview for a major betting publication. The journalist was quite pretty, with strawberry blonde curls, a dusting of freckles across her nose, and Velma-style glasses that did nothing to distract from her good looks. Eloise was dressed in the dowdiest clothes the kid owned, an A-line skirt, low heels, and a not-overly-clingy floral blouse. The journalist saw only the collar around her neck.

After a tour of the young master's impressive home. The journalist, whose first name was Monica, settled herself on the couch next to her young Master. Eloise noted but was sure that Tim did not, that Monica subtly hiked up her skirt as she sat down, exposing more leg. Monica also leaned forward when Eloise served the coffee and Danish so that her young master had a clear view of her robust cleavage. Eloise hated her immediately.

The interview was extensive and surprisingly intimate. Eloise was quite sure that her young master would regret answering some of those deeply personal questions when the interview was published. Monica's tape recorder took in every word, her eyes and notebook captured everything else.

Eloise served lunch as the interview transitioned from "up close and personal" to "show me yours and I'll show you mine." Monica was the sort of female journalist who used every feminine while she possessed to land a story and her young master was putty in her hands.

"Let's see how good you are, let's make a little wager, Mr. Anderson. The cut and color of my panties?"

"Bikini and pink!" shot back Tim.

Eloise died a little as the two snickered like teenagers.

"Well, am I correct, Monica?"

"Start the adult beverages flowing, Tim, and you may find out."

"Ellie! Whiskey for me and..."

"A chardonnay,"

"... A chardonnay for Monica."

Eloise prepared the drinks. She managed to suppress the urge to spit in Monica's wine. She served the drinks with a smile.

"Ellie, why don't you whip up some dinner," he paused and said, "I'll be right back." He strode off toward the bathroom. Eloise was alone with Monica for the first time. They glared at each other.

"I'm surprised Tim is into grandmas."

Eloise bit her tongue.

"What are you? Fifty?"

"Forty-four!"

"Close enough!"

Eloise shot the shorter girl the stink eye.

"I've done my homework on your owner. Exactly what I'm looking for in terms of wealth and looks. Plus hitching myself to him will only accelerate my career. Seducing him is a no-brainer actually."

Eloise's hands tightened into fists.

"Easy, old bat, I can sweet talk Tim into dispensing with you at a brothel in Sun City, Arizona, where you can suck on retired old man cock twelve hours a day!"

Her young master took that moment to re-enter the room.

"You two getting along?"

He paused.

"What are you going to make for dinner, Ellie?"

"I'm thinking Thai."

"Oh, spicy! Sounds good."

With a wave, he dismissed her to the kitchen.

It took all of Eloise's self-resolve to not slam pots and pans around in anger and frustration. Monica was a gold digger! She was not the kind of woman who could truly love Tim. That brought Eloise up short. Did she have genuine feelings for her young master? Were they maternal or romantic? Was everything she felt simply the byproduct of being enslaved? Eloise had no idea. She did know that she wanted good thing for her young master. She also feared losing her comfortable, if often humiliating life. No way on God's green earth could she and Monica live under the same roof for any length of time! Stifling a sob, Eloise threw herself into making a spectacular dinner. She had skills and talents that harlot Monica could not even dream of!

"Outstanding Ellie!" raved her young Master as he savored the first morsel of food.

"Thank you, boss."

"I'm no slouch in the kitchen myself, Tim."

"I'll let you prove that by cooking breakfast tomorrow morning!"

The pretty young journalist's eyes widened. She smiled and subtly nodded. Eloise saw red.

She served dessert, a peach cobbler topped with homemade vanilla ice cream. Yes indeed, Eloise had pulled out all the stops to prove her worth to her young master.

"You've outdone yourself, Ellie!"

She preened while Monica, when Tim's attention was elsewhere made the universal symbol of a slit throat at her.

"You can leave clean up until tomorrow, Ellie. You are dismissed to the spare bedroom until I call for you."

"Yes, boss," she replied softly, her heart in her throat.

Her full-to-overflowing breasts needed milking. Eloise gathered up the breast pump and made her way to the spare bedroom. In a fit of spite, for the first time ever, she dumped every drop down the spare bathroom sink!

It was well past noon when her young master summoned her.

"Into your maid outfit, Ellie, you can clean up now."

"Yes, boss."

She started in the kitchen. Monica had made a mess of her stove.

"But why shouldn't she?" Eloise addressed the empty room, "She knew damn well she wouldn't have to clean it up!"

Eloise made a fresh pot of coffee and toasted a bagel before smearing it with cream cheese and eating it. She was going to take as long as humanly possible to complete her cleaning duties this day!

After rendering the kitchen spotless, she transitioned to the rest of the house, saving the master bedroom for last. As though they were toxic, Eloise stripped the sex-stained sheets and tossed them into the hamper. While engaged in this procedure, she discovered a pair of panties draped over her young master's clock radio alarm. They were bikini-style and pink! Eloise left them where they were. Nothing on earth would make her willingly pick them up.

"What ails you woman?" he inquired as Eloise served him dinner.

Her face bore no expression.

"Don't tell me you're jealous!"

He laughed and said, "I intend to see Monica again, a lot! She's beautiful, smart, sexy, and can really help my career. I can see myself really cutting back on betting personally and focusing only on providing tips to everyone else. Monica says I could probably get a segment on all the sports channels, Football, baseball, hockey, soccer, and college basketball, and just give the odds as I see fit. Pays as much as I'm clearing now, with none of the risks. I'll still bet from time to time. I can't give that up! But it won't matter if my luck suddenly dries up."

"That sounds good, boss."

"You sure don't seem happy about it."

"I'm sorry, boss."

She donned an incandescent smile and hovered close to him before gracing his lips with a magnificent kiss.

"I'm very happy for you!"

"That's more like it!"

Things returned, if not to normal, at least closer to the norm. Tim lost no enthusiasm for his slave between the sheets. He avidly suckled on her breasts every morning and praised her housekeeping and culinary skills. Just when Ellie had convinced herself that Monica was only a passing passion, he summoned her to his office.

"Sit down, Ellie."

She settled herself opposite him.

"Monica has set me up with a weeklong series of interviews in Los Angeles. I'm going to be interviewed by Network and cable big wheels with the goal of becoming an even bigger Wheel myself. Because of how much of my time it will take and the fact that I'd like to spend any time I DO have off with Monica, I'm afraid that I can't bring you with me. I hired a boarding service. They will be here to pick you up at noon tomorrow."

"Boarding service?"

"Yes, just like for dogs or cats, but for slaves."

"Boarding service?"

"This couple comes highly recommended. They'll keep you busy, see that you eat well, and exercise. At the end of the week, they transport you back here. I'm told that massages, pedicures, manicures are on the table."

"Boss?"

"I can't leave you here, Ellie, it's illegal to leave a slave unsupervised for more than forty-eight hours for one thing and you'd only be in the way in Los Angeles."

"If you say so, boss."

"I do say so. Discussion on this matter is closed.

**

Eloise fretted until Noon arrived. The couple that showed up at the front door was about Eloise's age. The man was sandy-haired and fit. He wore a neat suit jacket, tie, and black slacks. His shoes were highly polished. The woman's ash blonde hair was worn in a severe bun that gave her a librarian vibe. Her blazer was the same shade as her husband's jacket, under this, a white silk blouse, a modest, professional-looking black skirt, and low, polished black heels. The woman carried a satchel.

Her young master led the couple to his office, where they sat opposite him while Eloise stood off to one side, trying to control her breathing.

"As you can see Mr. Anderson, here are our references and bonding papers. Ellie will be in excellent hands."

"Good to hear! I've never left her alone before, so I'm a bit nervous."

"Understandable, sir," put in the woman. "We'll treat her as though she was our own."

The young Master stroked his chin. "That's what I understand happens when I sign these papers."

"If your trip to Los Angeles ends early, we are on twenty-four-seven contact at this number. We'll bring Ellie straight home," stated the male visitor.

"Your Yelp reviews are spectacular."

"We aim to please," stated the woman with a smile.

"Well, I'm sold," said the young master as he placed his thumbprint on the electronic page of the tablet computer on his desk.

"We have to confirm that Ellie, is properly registered to you," stated the man. "I need a shot of the tattoo and barcode on her buttocks to send to the slave registry."

"I also brought traveling clothes for Ellie," stated the woman visitor. "We provide everything, and you don't have to worry about any lost clothing."

"You two are slick!" said the young Master. "Get undressed, Ellie."

"Boss?"

"What did I tell you about shyness?"

"Yes, boss," returned Eloise slowly as she stepped out of her house slippers.

With a heavy sigh, she tugged the tee shirt she wore over her head and off. This was followed by her nursing bra.

"She's beautiful, Mr. Anderson!" stated the male visitor avidly.

"On that, we agree!"

Eloise stepped out of her shorts. Her young Master had provided no panties this day. Ever dutiful, Eloise carefully folded her cast-off clothing and placed them neatly on her young master's desk. She allowed the woman to bend her over that same desk as the male visitor snapped a picture of Eloise's identity number and barcode and transmitted it to the slave registry computer. Eloise recalled from her slave manual that any person in authority could compel her to strip at any time and in any place if there was a question about her status or identity. Like so many things in this new world of slavery, it was designed for maximum humiliation.

A few seconds later the tablet beeped.

"And temporary title has just been transferred to us!" said the male visitor.

"Put this on, Ellie." stated the woman.

Eloise took note of the clothing given to her. They seemed to be in her size. A light brown mini dress, self-supporting nude stockings, a white thong adorned with a smiley face in front, a bandeau with nursing pads attached by Velcro, and white, high-heeled shoes. Everything was her size.

Once Eloise had finished dressing, her young master asked, "May I give her a goodbye kiss?"

"Certainly."

He rose from behind the desk, kissed Eloise deeply, and said, "Be a good girl, Ellie, Obey Mr., and Mrs. Kovacs as though they were me."

"Will do, boss."

The man clipped a leash to Ellie's collar.

"Since we are in a custodial situation, you have to be leashed in public. I know this is just a walk to our car in the driveway, but you may as well get used to it. For the rest of the week when we are out in public, you must be leashed. In a non-custodial situation, of course, that is not the case. The law is pretty firm about that. If we violate this law, we could face heavy fines and even have our fostering abilities suspended or permanently ended."

"Oh," said Eloise as the man gently tugged the leash.

Her young master allowed the middle-aged couple to see themselves out of his house.

The back seat of the car was inside a surrounding cage! Worse, Eloise's leash was attached to a cleat, forcing her to sit upright. The drive was long. Little thought had been given to her comfort aside from a bottle of water in the cup holder. The water was lukewarm and, because of how her leash was attached to the cleat, drinking from it wasn't exactly easy. The married couple conversed in the front seat as though Eloise wasn't there at all. Seeking to break the monotony she asked, "Master and Mistress what should I call you?"