Second in Command Ch. 01

A sequel to 'Red Circles'

1

Dalia slowly roused herself from sleep as the sunlight streamed through the curtains onto her. It was a joy not to have the alarm break into a dream for once, and to be able to feel the softness of the double bed, to be able to stretch out and reach...

But of course there was nobody beside her. Just a space bounded by cool satin.

And the other side? She focused her eyes on the tea set placed on the bedside table. Another privilege from her day off from the library. She pulled herself to a sitting position, and reached over to pour herself out a cup. Nearly boiling, but not quite. That would do though.

She reached over to the table on the other side of the bed to find the TV remote, and flicked it on. The clock in the corner of the screen told her it was well past eleven whilst the news rolled in a tickertape above it. She leant across to pick up her cup of tea, and thoughtfully sipped it as she caught up with the world.

A soft knock at the door made her eyes dart from the screen. She blinked, then remembered who it would be. "Enter", she called.

The door opened and in came the maid. Dalia's eyes were back on the screen. It was only when the maid said "Everything all right for you, Miss?", in a deep, male voice, that she acknowledged his presence.

Oh yes, it was "he". Despite the ridiculous lacy uniform, despite the ginger-curled wig, despite the smooth legs. "She" was a pronoun only used for those with privileges in this house, and "he" was still called Ed. And things had come some way since Dalia had first met him...

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2

It was a different morning, some months before, but with the same luxurious bed, the same sunlight in the window. On this morning, the alarm screeched the time of seven AM, but as Dalia instinctively reached out her arm to turn it off, she found nothing on the bedside table. Her hand flapped around to find it. On the other side, she heard a thwack and the alarm dying, and a body next to her turning in the bed: and then, softly in her ear, "morning, sweet slut".

Dalia jerked her head right - and then she remembered. Oona, the woman she had been summoned to the night before. Oona, the woman who was her confessor. Oona, the woman who had comforted her, then seduced her...

...and who had taken her to bed last night.

"Remember me? Mistress Oona? Won't you say 'good morning'?"

Dalia's mouth was dry, but she swallowed and managed to mumble a good morning.

"Sleep well? No, don't get up, there's plenty of time yet." Oona pulled Dalia to her: it felt natural to kiss, to embrace, to relax into her arms. "You've had a rough night, sweetness: now it's time for a little pampering."

Oona pulled away for a second to press a button on the table on her side of the bed, then continued cuddling her conquest. After a minute or so, Dalia heard careful footsteps on stairs; a soft knock on the door, and then, when Oona had called out her permission...

A silver tray was brought in. Two tea cups and a pot were on it. But carrying it in? Dalia's eyes boggled - a man! in this house! - and why was he wearing a black bra?

He put the tray on Oona's bedside table, then politely enquired "Anything else, Ma'am?"

"No, thank you Ed. Keep out of sight this morning, I think you have to give her time to get used to you."

"Of course, Ma'am." He turned and walked out. Dalia caught sight of the black panties which matched his bra.

"Wha....?" began Dalia.

"Sssshh, sweetness. Just a little, ummm, 'domestic help'. You'll see. Now kiss me again."

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3

"You're sure of this?"

"Absolutely."

"You realize what it means?"

"I think so."

"You're not going to upset the arrangements I have already?"

"They're part of you. And being with you is what I want to have."

"Then it's done."

Oona brought the last forkful of pasta up to her mouth, and delicately pushed it in. Dalia's eyes fixed there for a moment; the dark skin surrounding the soft lips, and a tongue which had brought her such passion over the past four weeks. She watched as Oona chewed and swallowed, wishing she could run her finger down the front from her mouth, down between her breasts, down towards...

Perhaps not in this restaurant, though.

"But there'll be some ground rules, of course." Oona's face turned a little more stern, a little more authoritative. The face that first made Dalia confess to her. "It's my house, and my belongings. You'll be chief concubine. But there's times I'll want you to be girlfriend too." Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. "And other times when you'll be my sweet slut."

"Yes, Mistress" whispered Dalia back.

Oona wiped her mouth with a napkin. "And you'll take over some of my obligations to Ed."

"Obligations?"

"Ah, I've not told you about that yet... hold on, let me call the waiter over."

She motioned to a waiter over the other side of the room, and he walked over to collect their plates. "And two tiramisu, please" Oona told him. He nodded, and took the crockery away.

"Ed... okay, you've seen him about the house, but I've not yet told you much about him. He was a colleague on a building project I was working on a few years ago in Boston. Not long out of university, and expected to prosper in daddy's architecture firm. Anyway, we had to meet for business a few times, and he kept meekly hinting at asking me out. Not my thing at all, of course.

"So it was about the sixth or seventh time I had to turn him down when I told him 'sorry, men don't do anything for me'. And his head visibly dropped when I said that, and he mumbled that I'd broken his heart, that he loved me from first sight. And that he knew it was useless, but that he'd still love me.

"Such a pathetic sight. But when Frannie - that was the bitch who was sponging off me at the time - started getting uppity and having ideas above her station, I thought if she had her own slut to play with, she'd keep on submitting to me. So I put this to her, but she wanted a man for herself. Ed was the first guy I thought of.

"Actually, Frannie broke him rather well - before long, he had agreed to go under our control; to move into the house; to be domesticated. And he rather enjoys having to wear women's clothes all the time. When Frannie ran off a few months later, he stayed. He still does a little architectural drawing over the Net, but he stays indoors... unless I tell him otherwise.

"The only condition of our, ummm, 'agreement', is that he gets to fuck me twice a year. Christmas and his birthday in September."

"But... I thought you didn't like men?" interrupted Dalia.

"I don't. But good domestic help is so difficult to get. Inbetween times he gets a little, erm, 'exercise' every so often to keep him cool. When we get back, I'll show you what I mean."

The waiter returned with their desserts. Oona smiled at Dalia, and reached out a hand under the table to stroke her leg.

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4

"ED? Where are you?" Oona called as she walked in the door.

"Coming, Ma'am" he shouted back from underneath, and he scuttled up the stairs and into the front room.

"You know Dalia? From now on she's Miss to you. Say hello."

"Good evening, Miss, lovely to see you again." Dalia blushed as Ed reached for her hand and kissed it softly, as she always did. She had grown more used to his presence over the past few weeks - though luckily most of the time he had clothes on, even if they were women's.

Oona smiled at him. "Tonight Miss Dalia will be assisting in your 'exercise'. Are you ready?"

He grinned. "Yes, definitely, Ma'am!"

"Then go back downstairs." It was only his stilettoes that stopped him running back to his room.

"Wait a minute here, sweetness: I'd better go and put on my exercise clothes. You'll do as you are, I think." Oona pecked her on the cheek, then walked upstairs.

Dalia could hear furniture being moved downstairs; but otherwise nothing. She wondered what "as you are" meant: her blouse and long skirt wasn't exactly exercise gear. Nor, she thought, was Ed's tight miniskirt, fishnets and red stilettoes.

But then, nor was Oona as she saw her come back down the stairs. Her tight PVC corset, her knee boots with the sharp heels, and in her hand... what appeared to be a black table tennis bat.

"You like this, sweetness?" Oona called to her.

"Yes!!" And she did. The outfit accentuated Oona's curves; the contrast between the red plastic and her black skin almost made her sparkle. And where the corset swept down to between her thighs...

"All on his money, of course. Here, take the paddle; you can have a go with it." She walked up to Dalia, and handed it to her, gripping her hand for a moment. "And you'll feel it later too, I promise." She leant over to kiss Dalia on the cheek. "No nerves, okay? Follow my lead."

"Okay, Mistress" Dalia answered. Oona led her across the room and down the stairs.

Ed was waiting for them, standing in the centre of the room. All the furniture had been pushed out of the way, and there only remained a wooden chair just behind him. His eyes lit up at the sight of Oona in her PVC.

"Head down, slug, and strip!" His head dropped, and he started to divest; first his top, revealing the black bra; then his miniskirt, revealing his stockingtops and a pink thong. He folded the top and skirt neatly on the ground, then resumed standing, eyes to the ground, his hands modestly in front of his crotch. "Hands away!" Oona ordered: he put his arms by his sides, and Dalia could see the fabric of his panties straining to keep him inside.

"Tonight, Miss Dalia" she continued, "you'll have a chance to see exactly what a disgusting little... thing this is before us. Kneel on the chair, slug!" He leapt onto the chair, kneeling sideways on the seat, then gripped one side of it and stuck his ass up in the air. "Go behind him, Miss Dalia: yes, just about there. Now give him three for starters!"

Dalia stared at the paddle in her hand, then took aim with it, and swiped it onto Ed's left cheek.

"Harder than that! He hardly felt it!"

She gave him another hit; this time it was harder, with a satisfying thwap as it hit his skin.

"Better! One more, the other side!" Oona commanded.

Dalia shifted herself slightly, then swung her arm again; it landed on the top of his thigh, rather than the cheek.

"Not bad for a first go, I guess. Now, slug: since you like confessing so much, you're going to tell Miss Dalia about when you were first naughty."

Ed's breathing was a little sharp, but he started: "Miss, it was back when I was sixteen, and I was doing gardening in the summer vacation."

"Another one, Miss Dalia!" called Oona. Dalia beat him again, this time landing plumb in the centre of his right cheek. "Continue!"

"I was doing weeding at Mrs. McFadden's house - and she was wearing a bikini top, shorts and her backless slippers. I kept peeking over towards her... wondering if I could catch a glimpse of something more. I got so excited, I had to go off and hide in the potting shed..."

"And then? More encouragement, Miss Dalia!" Another two blows landed on his cheeks.

"...and I was.... playing with myself, thinking about her, when the door opened and she caught me there with my pants down. She screamed at me to pull them up then marched me into the house..."

"To do what to you? Again, Miss Dalia. Quickly now!"

"Ow!! ...she pulled my pants and boxers down again, then tied a pale blue ribbon round my cock and balls and made it into a bow"

"Highly suitable. Keep going!"

"Then she put me over her knees and spanked me with her hand, then told me to go; but I had to come back every Saturday morning for the rest of the year, and go into the potting shed."

"With the ribbon around your pathetic cock?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Dalia kept beating him as he recounted. "I'd stand there until she... ow!... was ready for me with the ribbon and bow around my thingy... and then she'd take me inside and spank me twelve times."

"Only twelve?"

"She doubled it one time, because I came over her thighs... I couldn't help it, she had pantyhose on that day. She made me clean it up with my mouth, then she gave me another twelve, extra hard."

"Fitting. Get the restraints!"

Ed jumped up and scurried around to find four sets of cuffs, which he then presented on his knees to Oona. She grabbed them and ordered him to sit. "What things to say to Miss Dalia! I bet she's never heard anything like it before. I'll have to tie you up for this..." She quickly fastened the cuffs to his wrists and ankles, and to the beams of the chair: he was quite unable to move. Oona turned to Dalia: "Strip, bitch."

"Wha...?"

"STRIP!"

Dalia unbuttoned her blouse, then stepped out of her long skirt. Oona stared at her, waiting for her. She took off her blouse, then, more nervously, her bra, followed by her panties. She now stood in only her sandals. Oona walked over, grabbed her by the shoulders, and in front of Ed's tied body.

"Head up, slug! Like what you see? No, don't reply to that, I can tell you do. Such lovely pale skin..." Oona turned her mouth to Dalia and whispered "Now toss him off. He won't take long, I promise. Do it for me."

Dalia knelt down in front of him, and pulled his pink thong down slightly, so his cock popped up above the waistband. She started to slowly caress it up and down. "No, faster than that, slut! This is milking, not pleasure!" Dalia's hand gripped his cock firmly, and pulled the foreskin back and forth. Oona continued her teasing.

"You remember when Mrs McFadden did this? Tell me!"

"Yes... ah......" Ed spluttered. "It was the last day before she moved away. She... oh... blindfolded me then tied me to a chair, then I felt her tossing me off... AH!!! after that... I felt her thighs around mine...."

Oona walked over and pulled his head up so he was looking directly in her eyes. "And then?"

"and then... and then..."

"Aim it at his stomach, bitch. And then?"

"I came inside her, and she made me lick it out of her... AHHHHHHH!" His cock spurted all over his chest and stomach, some jism collecting at the front of his bra.

"What a disgusting slug! Bitch, uncuff him. Then he'll clean himself up and we can find better things to do...."

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Part Two to follow soon.