Services Required Ch. 02: Services Retained

She was offered the now-customary towel for her own ablution before her hosts escorted her at a leisurely pace back to the front door. Their faces bore the also-familiar sly, contented grins of an evening well spent in the most pleasurable company. The girl has a brave little smile of her own for them as she turned away, hand reaching up in another new habit to the collar around her neck, fingers brushing against it like a talisman, her lips parting momentarily in benediction. All of it was now part of the ritual. Obvious on this particular evening though was exactly how hard it was becoming, increasingly with every occasion, to walk away.

* * *

A week later, their next engagement fell upon a Friday evening, like the very first. It was four weeks later, and an exact full month since she'd responded originally to that enticing ad. Her thoughts went back to her own tentative words, an attempt to meet the formality of their tone and yet still convey her longing to take on the role:

"Dear master and lady,

I am writing in response to your recent advertisement, to offer my services in the position described. Although I do not have previous experience of similar roles, I am eager to serve and willing to be conscientious in carrying out any and all duties required. I would be happy to take on any provisions the position demands, both those already outlined and other requirements that may develop. I am able to accommodate most appointment times and can be flexible in scheduling as needed.

I hope you will consider my application, and look forward to your response..."

She had been wearing her collar a lot in the last few days, through most of her daily life. So far she had received no comments on the new fashion statement, but she felt herself drawing the eyes of numerous curious people around her. The night before the appointment, experimentally, daringly, she wore it to bed. There was some minor physical discomfort at first, a constant reminder of its presence, but that suited her just fine. Snug as it was there was no chance of serious restriction, a situation that was also perfectly appropriate. In a bold decision taken in a mix of enthusiasm and nervousness, she unfastened the topmost collar button of her blouse as she approached their door, so the freshly-shined buckle of the collar would be clearly on display.

She did not know quite what to expect from this occasion: she had been instructed once again to let herself in.

The scene on entering was different this time. The master sat alongside the lady of the house on the living room sofa, both of them offering smiles of welcome at her arrival. A small side table held a bottle of wine; they each held a glass, already poured; another waited on the table next to the bottle. Their other hands were clasped together, their forearms resting across the lady's lap, and they wore the familiar, comfortable dressing gowns.

"Welcome, my dear! Something to drink?" the lady rose in a swish of her dressing gown's hem, her shapely bare legs coming upright beneath her as she left the sofa and disentangled her fingers easily from her husband's.

"Thankyou, my lady!" the unhurried pace of events was in studied contrast to the sudden anticipatory revving of the girl's heart rate. A glassful of pale straw-gold wine was poured and offered. Judging by the amount remaining in the bottle, the couple must have indulged in a generous measure each themselves. Crisp and dry with an almost mineral tint, the girl let the flavour pool across her tongue for a moment as she tried to will herself to relax a little. When she swallowed, her throat bobbed gently against the solidity of the buckle fastened across it.

The atmosphere was markedly relaxed and informal this evening, beyond even her hosts' casual choice of evening wear. The lady of the house reached out and took hold of the girl's free hand, squeezing it playfully as they sipped their drinks.

"So, a whole month! We're so glad, I hope you've been having as much fun as we have,"

"Y-yes, my lady! Of course..."

"Mmm, that's our girl. We'll start when you're ready; finish your drink, there's really no rush!"

The lady kept hold of her hand, swinging it back and forth a little as they drank. Her gaze similarly held the girl's own over the rims of the wine glasses. The rosy buzz of the alcohol began to trickle down through the girl's body, and she felt herself becoming more relaxed in front of her two favourite companions. Hypnotised by the lady of the house's charmingly bright eyes, she barely noticed the master rising from the sofa and treading quietly around behind her until his hand was upon the outside of her shoulder and the warm exhalation of his breath floated across the back of her neck.

Without words, she began automatically to bend at the knees. To her mild surprise she was halted by their firm holds.

"Not yet, dear," the lady of the house dazzled her some more with her winsome stare, "let's finish our drinks first, shall we?"

The couple worked their way to the end of their wine, the girl hurrying a little to catch up to them. When they were done, the lady collected all three glasses to shuffle away on the side table before turning back, hands at her sides, open before them. That was when the master leaned forward a little to murmur in the girl's ear:

"Servant, remove my wife's underwear," he gave a light push against the small of her back to set her forward, the pressure of his hand on her shoulder indicating that now would be the appropriate time to continue with her previous impulse. The girl stepped forward across the armspan's worth of distance between them, lowering herself as she went until she was on her knees before the lady. Still they hadn't broken eye-contact.

The lady of the house let a finger trail down the side of the girl's face and forward along the jawline to the tip of her chin. With a glimmer of mischief in the corners of her eyes and grin, she stepped ever so slightly closer until her abdomen was close in front of the girl's face. The skimpy hem of the dressing gown she wore parted just enough to reveal the silken scarlet thong she wore beneath. The girl's anxiously-snatched breath took in a familiar mélange of feminine aroma mixing with the scent of the lady's favourite toiletries. She could have leaned forward a fraction and rubbed the tip of her nose against the small triangle of fabric. Instead, she indulged herself in letting her hands run up along the outsides of the lady's legs, over smooth-shaven skin, up beneath the dressing gown until she found the thin string of the underwear's waistband. As she curled her fingers and began to tug downward, slowly and reverentially, the lady of the house favoured her with a sly wink.

It was only when her hands reached the soft shag of the carpet that the spell was broken, and she let go belatedly of the small red pool of the thong. The lady stepped back at last, only a fraction again, just enough to take her toes out from inside the ring of the discarded garment. She stroked the girl's cheek before both hands went to the sash of her dressing gown and pulled, letting it fall open and then off as the lady held her arms straight and shrugged it away down her shoulders. Naked and revealed, feet spread a proud shoulder-width apart, she stood as an idol over the kneeling girl. Then she leaned in, her pert breasts hanging down to points of stiffened nipples in the foreground of the girl's vision, to whisper into the same ear now turning slowly pink with the heat of amazed anticipation:

"Pet, remove my husband's underwear. With your teeth!"

The girl turned, with a slightly hazy lurch, to find the master already shedding his robe. The dark hairs highlighting much of his stout, solid form were in stark contrast to the tight, abbreviated white shorts which framed a significant bulge at his crotch. The girl felt the beginnings of the tang of salivation inside her mouth as she crawled around in front of him, straightening herself for a moment in preparation before his imposing stance. Unlike his wife, the master did not move toward her; she was obliged to lean in, immersing herself in the intangible cloud of his manly musk instead of its advancing upon her.

She had no reference for what she was about to do: it had never before been asked of her; she had never before even remotely been in a position for it to occur. One more in the lengthening list of firsts she gave gladly in their service. Beyond a half-second to ready herself, she did not hesitate to dip her face toward the master's navel, overhanging slightly the snug line of the waistband of his underwear below.

Approaching the problem of how to secure the garment in her teeth, she quickly realised that a little extra assistance was called for: careful to avoid scratching her master's bare skin, she hooked the tips of her index fingers inside the hem at the front of his hips; finding that more leverage was required she followed up with another couple of fingers on each side; finally, with enough of a gap created to fasten her teeth around the fabric, she began to drag her head downward with the underwear in tow. It took a little assistance from her fingers to smooth out the progress. Once the front of the shorts was down to the top of his thighs, the considerable bulk of the master's package seemed to spring out at her all of a sudden. The girl's reactive gasp was muffled by her need and instinct to keep her teeth firmly closed upon the strip of material between them. His member was already rigid enough to bounce immediately upward, narrowly avoiding an impact upon her face so close by.

Again, she took the underwear all the way down to his ankles; by the time she finished, she was bowed almost to the floor at his feet, almost in worship. Realising with a little reluctance that the task was complete, she slid back a respectful distance to straighten back up on her knees. His masterful staff reared up in front of her, shivering in impatience from root to crown, as if ready to bestow a blessing upon her. Her mouth watered all the more as she let herself fantasise about leaning in, parting her lips, stealing the privilege of a taste... A churning heat began to stew in her loins, but she held herself back in blind obedience, exactly as a servant-pet should. Looking up, she caught a wry curl at one edge of the master's lips. He was looking down upon her. She felt almost as if he'd read her mind, before esteeming himself satisfied.

He brought her around with a guiding hand, motioning for her to creep forward and kneel upon the cushion which the lady of the house had provided for her in the interim. It was placed such as to provide a panorama view of the sofa: that would be the site of their latst sporting. Once the man and his wife were satisfied as to her comfortable situation, their eyes left her for each other and he advanced upon the lady with a singular determination of purpose. Their naked bodies came together in the first embrace and, kissing passionately, they sank to the seat of the sofa below to consummate their evening.

The master pressed his suit with skill and vigour, his darker body writhing over the lady of the house to her accompanying punctuation of rising moans and gasps. Rolling around one another like liquid, they shifted positions several times as he continued to plunge deeper into her eager and hungry depths. They finished together eventually, tinged in the crimson and misted in the sweat of their exertions, he mightily and she in multiple. Something deep below the pit of the watching girl's belly was molten and inflamed by their display of ardour by the time they were done. The girl's lips had parted as the master first entered his wife, then she had panted fervently throughout. Constrained to kneel before them, she felt ruined and ready.

The master stood to approach her first, affording his wife a customary pause for recovery. He was as gloriously turgid and stained as he had been the first time, so many weeks ago. The girl suddenly had no eyes for his gaze, fixing with a singular purpose of her own on the task that was now upon her. Her mind lit up in delight and elation filled her heart; liquid fire still saturated her loins. Judging her motion finely, she leant forward to take him into her mouth for a long, diligent cleansing. Her oral administrations proceeded smoothly; she was gratified to realise that she was becoming steadily more accomplished at her craft. After swallowing a gooey gulp or two of sticky, intermingled residuum, she released his lordly lance from the confinement of her lips and finished with diligent lashes of her tongue to scour any last deposits of sap from along its length. All throughout, the master had stroked his fingers softly through the locks of her hair.

His hand guided her by the shoulder, over on her knees in front of the sofa upon which the lady sat, spread open and ready. Filling her lungs with the scent of the lady's sex-soiled nethers, the girl felt hands pulling gently on the back of her head and then larger, stronger fingers pressing and massaging around her shoulderblades. The sensations were distant; she was already sinking into a trance, delving with the tip of her tongue into lush, lascivious creases and folds, licking out the sultry mixture of creams within. As the lady and her husband adored the girl's head, neck and shoulders with their touch, so she adored the sensitive, hidden delights between the lady's thighs with her mouth. Long kisses, languid laps of her tongue along moistened tingling flesh, scandalous darts inside intimate hollows with its tip.

A deep blush covered her cheeks along with the streaks of numerous salacious juices, when eventually she came back up for air. The lady of the house's fingers had closed into claws in her hair, clutching the girl close as her tongue inflamed the lady's sex all the more; subsiding, the lady released her hold at last as the kneeling girl drank down the deep, gasping breaths she had forgotten the need for until she resurfaced. Weakened and wobbling, she felt herself supported by the master's strong hands keeping her upright. Regretfully, she let herself be drawn back from the lap of the slumping woman on the sofa. The master ran a finger lightly down behind one of her ears as she moved away.

The lady of the house's legs were still spread wide open, her feet perched on the sofa cushions on either side to prop them up. Leaving the side of the girl's head, the master's hand reached down toward his wife's displayed womanhood and the curves of her buttocks below. He reached in a fingertip, sliding it down below her sex into the valley formed by her rear end beneath. The finger emerged a moment later, bearing on its tip the accusing sheen of carnal juices: just a little, not more than a couple of drops' worth; still, the girl's heart sank down to her shins to see it; she knew full well what it meant.

The master's voice was level, light even, but quiet and serious in tone:

"Servant. You've not performed your duties to the utmost; we shall have to make an example..."

Rashly, the girl wanted to lunge forward and suck the tip of his finger into her mouth, to slurp up the incriminating evidence and complete her tasks. Looking up into the master's eyes, and feeling it already in her soul, she knew she was too late. There was a spark in his dark gaze, something incendiary. As it happened, even with her scattered attention she noticed that his length was once again at a full, shivering hardness. Without needing to be told, she stayed exactly where she was, on her knees with her hands in her lap, as he left the room without another word.

He was back a moment later. The girl had already begun to feel the burning stare of the lady of the house upon her, but had been too subservient or fearful to look up. Her ears strained and the hairs along the back of her neck stood up as the master padded around behind her, his solid footfalls softened by the thick carpet. She dared not turn to face him.

"Open your mouth, servant," the girl's eyes rose at the command, startled, taking in the cool and unreadable expresson on the lady's face at last. After far longer than she should have, still only a handful of racing heartbeats, she opened her moistened lips wide.

Something dropped down in front of her face, something she could not make sense of until the master pulled it between her parted teeth and tugged taut with several deft motions. Then, she knew. A securely-wound knot of surprisingly silken material, the flash of colour she'd glimpsed briefly as it descended bringing to mind a colourful scarf of the lady's she'd often noticed on the coat rack by the door. Wrapped tight and tied about the back of her head, it made for a very effective gag.

The lady's expression opened up then, the sun emerging from indistinct mist for just a moment as the woman gave her another mischievous wink. Then the lady's attention was lifted to her approaching husband, striding past the kneeling girl as if she was forgotten, his attentive rod fixed firmly upon her. It seemed he was ready to go again.

The lady was in no position to demur, had she even wanted to. A measure of the fatigue had left her in the spice and excitement of this new strict development, and she welcomed her husband with open arms, legs and sex. He piled down on top of her and slid quickly inside her slickened orifice, bracing himself against the yielding sofa cushions before commencing a bombardment of vigorous thrusts, apparently undiminished by his previous exertions. Almost right away, the lady began to cry in heat and passion as her arms snaked around to pull her lover down over her, into her. Unrestrained, they rutted with wild abandon.

The girl on her knees before them, hidden away behind the point of their attention, felt a roiling storm of longing and despair inside her. With the gag tied securely between her lips, she felt like a damsel in the deepest distress. She knew that they would not be calling on her services this time, the gag neatly and effectively neutralising the oral tools of her trade. Even in her powerless position the very idea of it, coupled with this outrageous, provocative coupling before her, drove her wonderfully and forlornly wild. She began to salivate freely, soaking the gag, as a desperate tempest coursed through her belly below.

The gag in her mouth was sopping wet by the time the master climaxed inside his wife for the second time, every part of her body inside and out tensing up around his as she was shocked through by orgasm. It had not even taken them a particularly long time. The lady was practically pinned to the seat cushions until her husband eased up, stood up, turned around with that marvellous, dripping member an open taunt to the poor gagged girl on his carpet. The girl herself had begun to tremble, a pair of tears leaking through sheer nervous energy from the corners of her eyes. Just before the master's bulk eclipsed her view, she saw the decadent oozing deposit of fertile fluids welling at the lady's private entrance, forbidden.

"That will do, girl. Come here," he towered naked over her with his usual regal bearing, reaching down around behind her to loosen and untie the scarf and lift it away in his hands.

Her lower lip quivered, her bosom shook; she gulped a couple of sobbing breaths. She was still so very, very inflamed by the seductive spirit that suffused the room. He set the improvised gag aside and reached down, inviting her hands to take his own, and helped her carefully to her feet. The lady of the house rose and came to his side, stretching an arm out gently to clasp the girl's elbow as her husband held on to both her hands. They didn't let go, for a long time or maybe only moments.

After his wife had fetched their comfortable dressing gowns up from the floor, swathing herself and draping his own around her husband's shoulders, the master let go of one of their servant-pet's hands to lead the girl over to the door. The girl trembled all the way, with every step. Her master left her with a complex, smouldering look, but no further words as she left the house. Her body was penetrated by an anxious tingling, her stirred loins unquiet. Her hand flew to her throat several times while travelling home, seeking reassurance, a reminder. She hardly slept.