Slavery Begins at Home Pt. 03

She was dressed in a traditional French maid outfit complete with white lace apron, mini skirt, frilly lace hat and black thigh-high stockings surmounting black, patent leather pumps.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Martin," Reyna said in perfect, unaccented English.

"Hello, Reyna, how are you, dear?" asked Natasha, handing the maid her wrap. "Two vodka tonics, please."

As Reyna reached for her wrap, Natasha regarded the pretty, Asian maid carefully. She was suddenly struck by a strong feeling of deja vu.

"Two vodka tonics coming right up," Reyna replied crisply and dashed off to get their drinks.

Natasha turned to greet Chloe, fixing her best fuck-you smile on her face.

"So nice of you to have us, Chloe," said Natasha frostily. "I'm looking forward to a very interesting and revealing evening."

Chloe looked at Natasha strangely for a few seconds, a flicker of apprehension flashing across her beautiful features, before being replaced by an expression of practiced indifference.

"Oh, you're quite welcome, Natasha. So glad you could come, darling," she said, her tone patronizing. The hostess checked her watch impatiently and looked away.

Natasha ignored the snub and pressed on.

"Are Matt and Amy enjoying college?" Natasha asked brightly.

Chloe rolled her eyes and sighed theatrically.

"Yes, Natasha, they're fine," she replied in a monotone. "Turns out Harvard is not too difficult after all. Your twins are in state school, aren't they?"

Natasha smiled thinly. Tim stood awkwardly next to his wife, his hand unconsciously tugging at his collar. He eyed his wife warily. He had seen these conversations spin wildly out of control in the past.

"Yes, Chloe. That's right," replied Natasha icily.

"Good for them, dear. I'm sure they'll do fine anyway. They're quite bright. They must take after their father."

Natasha opened her mouth to speak, but Chloe plowed on.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, Natasha, I have some actual friends to greet. Enjoy the free food and drinks. That's what you're here for."

And with that, Chloe was gone.

Natasha felt her blood boiling as she watched her pretty neighbor stalk away. No matter how many times she experienced it, the naked savagery of Chloe's rudeness never failed to amaze her.

"That woman!" she stammered to her husband.

"Easy...Natasha. We just got here," Tim said soothingly.

Natasha scowled at her husband and took three deep breaths, centering herself. If things went as expected tonight, she would have ample opportunity to deal with Chloe later.

Natasha and Tim circulated throughout the room. They greeted several of the couples they had gotten to know over the years. Eventually, they made their way to an empty sofa in the living room and sat down to await their drinks.

Natasha studied the crowd. Now that she knew the true, dark and kinky nature of the gathering, she viewed the mass of people with a different eye. As her gaze wandered from one couple to the next, Natasha couldn't help but wonder which partner was the dominant and which was the submissive.

There were the usual assortment doctors, lawyers and bankers, along with faculty and administrators from the university. She recognized several of Tim's colleagues from the economics department along with their wives.

Natasha was surprised to see the attractive and stylish prep school principal in the far corner of the room. Daphne Swanson was chatting amiably with a pretty young woman whom Natasha vaguely recognized as an English teacher who had joined the faculty a year earlier.

Natasha was wondering if Principal Swanson was the dominatrix or the slave when her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of their drinks.

"Two vodka tonics for the Martins," chirped Reyna, as she bowed to present the chilled glasses on a silver tray.

"Just in time, Reyna," Natasha replied lightly. "I'm afraid Tim's being quite the bore tonight. I could use a stiff drink."

Reyna, threw her head back and laughed, a little too loudly.

"I'm sure Mr. Martin will be the life of the party, once he gets warmed up," the young maid replied playfully.

Natasha didn't respond. She was too busy staring up at Reyna's face.

There was an awkward pause as Natasha continued to stare up at Reyna, a look of incredulity dawning on her face. Finally, Tim came to the rescue.

"Thank you so much, Reyna," he said, reaching for the drinks. "I'm sure that I'll perk up after a few drinks."

Natasha recovered quickly. She took her drink from her husband and leaned back on the couch and crossed her legs. She regarded the pretty maid shrewdly.

"Can I get you anything, else, Mrs. Martin?" asked Reyna.

"Tell me, Reyna," said Natasha. "How long have you worked for the Conners'?"

"I started this past summer, ma'am," Reyna replied neutrally. "They're great people," she added.

"Quite," said Natasha dryly. "Would you say you have a better relationship with Michael or with Chloe?"

Reyna's smile faltered. It was an odd question. The young maid looked around to see if anyone else was within earshot.

When Reyna's smile returned, it was more calculating, almost cunning.

"Well, I do like Mr. Conners very much, but when he's out of the house, I do so enjoy the company of Mrs. Conners as well. You could say we have a very special relationship."

Natasha sipped her drink and smiled.

"I'm sure you do, Reyna. I'm sure you do."

When the maid had gone, Tim leaned over and whispered in his wife's ear.

"What the hell was that all about? Why the sudden interest in the maid?"

Natasha sipped her drink and smiled knowingly, letting the implications of her discovery sink in.

"Remember when I peeked over the garden wall and saw the high and mighty Chloe Conners being led around naked on a leash, crawling on all fours?"

"Yes, of course," Tim replied flatly. "How could I forget?"

Natasha's eyes narrowed and her smile took on a decidedly predatory cast.

"I just realized that Reyna was the one holding the leash," she replied.

****

As the night wore on, the volume of the party increased proportionately with the amount of alcohol consumed. Natasha and Tim circulated comfortably through the crowd, stopping to chat with acquaintances.

Natasha kept looking for signs or signals to try to discern which people were dominants and which were slaves, but, alas, she saw no collars or leashes or handcuffs. At last, she stopped trying. After all, if Chloe was a lesbian slave to her own maid, there was no telling what other unusual dynamics might be afoot.

Just before dinner, a murmur suddenly rippled through the crowd. Natasha noticed that almost everyone was checking their phones at once as if there had been some kind of alert sent out. Reflexively, Natasha checked her own phone, but there was nothing . Some people cheered, while other fist bumped. The commotion continued until the call came for the guests to assemble for dinner.

Natasha and Tim were trapped at the opposite end of the long table from the host and hostess. They sat with Principal Swanson and the young English teacher, who introduced herself as Penelope Paine. The pretty young teacher was convivial and charming, regaling the Martins with delightful stories from her first year on the job.

Principal Swanson, on the other hand, who was at least twenty years older than her companion, seemed distracted and detached. She stayed mostly silent and appeared uncomfortable and ill at ease. Natasha saw her check her watch several times. She also noticed the older woman was drinking heavily.

When dinner was over, Natasha decided it was time to approach Mike Conners.

All night, Natasha had been following the man of the house with her eyes. She waved at him several times from across the room, batting her eyelashes coquettishly. Finally, after a gulping down a fortifying cocktail, she left Tim seated in a quiet corner of the living room and stalked off to speak one-on-one to Mike Conners.

She found him at the bar,

"Natasha, good to see you, darling. You look radiant as usual. Can I get you a drink?"

Natasha moved in close. She placed her right hand on Mike's left forearm.

"Actually, Mike, I was hoping we could talk. I'd like to get to know you a little better."

Mike looked down at Natasha's hand resting on his arm.

"Sure," he replied jovially. "What's on your mind?"

Natasha moved in even closer. She leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"Is there someplace more private where we can chat? There's something I want to ask you," she said coyly.

Mike looked Natasha in the eyes for several long seconds, then broke out into a wolfish grin.

"Sure, Natasha, let's go sit by the fire pit. I don't think anyone's out there yet." He quickly fixed them both drinks, then guided Natasha toward the back door.

Natasha waved across the room to get her husband's attention and signaled that he should follow them.

Mike led Natasha out past the back patio to an alcove beside the pool. There were a couch and two chairs sitting opposite one another with a fire pit centered in between.

Natasha sat down next to Mike on the couch. She turned toward him and crossed her legs slowly, giving him a good look at her neatly trimmed pussy as she did so.

Mike stared down at her crotch for several seconds before bringing his eyes back up to Natasha's face.

Just then, Tim walked up and joined them. He sat in the arm chair opposite his wife. He kept his eyes down and said nothing.

Mike looked up, an expression of surprise crossing his face at seeing Tim attending their little pow-wow, especially after Natasha had so brazenly flashed him seconds before.

"You don't mind if Tim joins us, do you, Mike?"

"Not at all. Can I order you another drink, Tim?"

Natasha answered for him.

"He's already had two. That's his limit for the night. I want him to be totally lucid this evening, for reasons which will become apparent very shortly."

Mike leaned back and crossed his legs.

"You're being very mysterious, Natasha. I do believe you're up to something." He was smiling, enjoying the intrigue.

Natasha rook a long sip of her drink, then set it down on the stone edge of the fire pit.

She turned to fully face Mike.

"Well, Mike, Tim and I were wondering if perhaps we might be allowed to stay for the entire party tonight, instead of being sent home before the real fun begins."

As she spoke she uncrossed her legs and let knees drift slightly apart. Her vagina was now on clear display. Mike stared openly at her crotch.

"Natasha, I wish I could say yes," Mike said awkwardly, tearing his eyes away from Natasha's pussy, "but I'm afraid the after-party is a private function. We invite you and Tim to join us for the dinner, of course, but the evening activities are strictly limited to active members only."

Natasha smiled thinly.

"Does one of the activities involve your maid leading Chloe around the back yard, naked on a leash?" Natasha asked innocently. "And having her pee on a bush?"

Mike looked at Natasha for a long time, then began to smile.

"Natasha, you've been naughty," he said, chuckling. "I do believe you've been spying on us."

"I'm sorry, Mike, but I was curious. After the last party, I peeked over the garden wall. Imagine my surprise when I saw your lovely wife on all fours, lifting her leg like a dog."

Mike laughed out loud.

"That was funny," he admitted amiably. "Chloe was being a little uppity toward one of the mistresses that night, so Reyna had to take her in hand. She's very good at keeping my wife in line."

"I bet," Natasha responded playfully.

She opened her legs wider, giving Mike a full, unencumbered view of her pussy. There could be no mistaking her intentions now.

Mike glanced over at Tim. Natasha moved her knees even further apart.

"Don't pay any mind to Tim. In fact, act like he's not even here," she said. "Tonight's about you and me."

Mike nodded his head silently, then placed a hand on Natasha's knee.

"Tell me, Mike, are all the guests in on it?" she asked, leading him on.

Mike was practically salivating now. When he spoke, his voice sounded distracted.

"Yes, Natasha. Every person in the house now is either a master, a mistress or a slave."

"What's the name of the club, if you don't mind me asking?"

His hand began to creep up Natasha's thigh.

"It's called the Society, Natasha. It's a private BDSM club. We get together regularly for play parties. It's a chance for masters and mistresses to show off their slaves and interact with other members in a safe, secure environment."

Natasha nodded and took a quick sip of her drink.

"Sounds fun. And Chloe is one the slaves, correct?"

"Yes, Natasha. Chloe and I practice a rather unconventional BDSM dynamic within the Society," Mike replied cryptically.

Natasha spread her legs a little wider, encouraging Mike's hand to explore further up her thigh.

"Can I ask a practical question?"

"Sure, Natasha," replied Mike, absently.

He was stroking her inner thigh now.

"How do you tell them apart, the owners and the slaves?"

"Easy. When the festivities begin, the slaves are required to disrobe and must remain naked for the rest of the night. Also, each male and female submissive is clearly marked and labeled with a large black tattoo just above their genitals that describes their role in the Society," Mike replied evenly.

"I see," said Natasha reasonably. "That makes sense."

Mike abruptly withdrew his hand and sat up straight on the couch.

"But I shouldn't be telling you any of this, Natasha," he said stiffly, taking a quick look over his shoulder toward the house. "The Society has strict rules about discussing our private affairs with outsiders."

Natasha slid closer to Mike on the couch. She rested her left hand on his right thigh.

"Maybe I don't have to be an outsider, Mike," said Natasha, sliding even closer.

"What do you mean?" he asked, staring down at Natasha's hand.

"Maybe Tim and I could join the club. After all, we live right next door," Natasha said, squeezing his thigh playfully.

Mike sipped his drink and sighed. He eyed Natasha carefully, then removed her hand from his leg.

"I'm sorry, Natasha, but this is not a spectator sport. The society only accepts couples who are nominated by existing members. They have to be in a committed BDSM relationship. Serious players only. No voyeurs are allowed. A vanilla couple like you and Tim just wouldn't fit in."

Natasha sipped her drink and nodded her head slowly, then snapped her fingers at Tim.

"Get over here, Tim," she said imperiously.

Tim stood and walked up to his wife. He stood before her, his eyes on the ground.

"Strip and kneel. Show Mike your cute little cage, dear," Natasha ordered.

Tim swallowed hard and looked at his wife. Natasha glared back, hard-eyed.

"Don't worry, Tim. We're all perverts here. Strip. Now," Natasha repeated, her tone implacable.

Tim looked away and let his gaze drift back down to the ground, then slowly unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall down around his knees. In moments he was out of his clothes and completely naked before them. He kneeled in front of his wife.

Mike leaned in to examine Tim's meticulously shaved crotch. He took in the clear plastic chastity cage for a few seconds and nodded.

"Not very well endowed, is he?" he said, chuckling contemptously. "He doesn't even fill that little cage."

"Actually, I think he's been shrinking," Natasha replied derisively. "Also, he can't really get it up anymore."

"That does tend to happen," replied Mike sagely.

After a moment he sat back on the couch and picked up his drink.

He looked closely at Natasha, his gaze reappraising.

"So, Tim's your chastity slave," Mike said conversationally as he sipped his drink.

Natasha turned her body toward Mike, her cocktail dress riding up her to her mid thighs. Now that he knew her husband was not a threat, Mike eyed Natasha's exposed pussy hungrily. He slid closer to her on the couch.

He was finally beginning grasp the situation.

"Yes, he is. He's only a novice, but he's learning quickly."

"We have several male chastity slaves in attendance tonight," he said matter-of-factly. "I've found they make the best cocksuckers, once they've been properly trained."

Tim winced.

"They certainly make great pets. That's for sure," Natasha chuckled, patting Tim on the head.

Mike sat back and crossed his legs.

"Have you cucked him yet?" Mike asked, casually.

"Funny you should ask," Natasha replied archly. "We were just discussing that possibility earlier today."

She paused and sipped her drink, eying Mike over the rim of her glass. Slowly, she reached out and rested her left hand on Mike's right shoulder.

"In fact, your name came up, Mike. We were hoping to start tonight," she added coyly.

Mike's eyes snapped up Natasha's face. She held his gaze

"Is that so?" he asked noncommittally.

Natasha began to rub Mike's shoulder.

"Well, What do you think, Mike?"

Mike continued to stare in to Natasha's eyes for a few beats, then looked away. He gazed into the middle distance for several seconds, deep in thought. At last, he seemed to come to a decision.

He looked at his watch and nodded to himself.

"Well. Natasha, it's certainly an interesting offer. I assume because of the close proximity of our houses you'd be seeking an ongoing arrangement; I'd be your regular bull."

"Absolutely," Natasha replied eagerly. "Tim obviously can't satisfy me anymore. It would be heavenly to have a real man like you right next door."

Mike nodded slowly, letting the implications sink in. After all, Natasha was a stunning beauty. He had been admiring her from afar for years. He would be happy to take her on as a lover, but he also had his own wife to consider. To be fair to Chloe, Natasha would have to fit in to their unusual household dynamic just right.

When he spoke, he chose his words carefully.

"Before I give you an answer, Natasha, I'd like to know what your feelings are toward Chloe. It's no secret that there is some tension between you two."

Natasha paused, biting her lip.

"I admit that things are a little...complicated between us," Natasha conceded at last. "But I'm pretty sure we'll get along just fine. She just needs a little clarity."

"Clarity?" Mike responded, arching an eye brow.

Natasha smiled predatorily.

"Put it this way," she replied, her voice hardening. "Since I began training Tim, I've found that I rather enjoy being in charge. The next time Chloe takes a midnight stroll in the backyard on her hands and knees, I wouldn't mind being the the one holding her leash."

Mike smiled.

"I think that could be arranged, Natasha."

Natasha and Mike chatted amiably on the couch for a few minutes sipping their drinks. They studiously ignored Tim, who remained naked and kneeling before them.

Natasha reached out and placed her hand on Mike's shoulder.

"You mentioned you had several chastity slaves in attendance tonight," she said matter-of-factly.

"Thats right, Natasha. We have about a twenty cuckold slaves of various varieties in the society. They are all kept in permanent chastity. We also have a handful of cuckqueans."

Natasha crinkled her nose.

"What's a cuckquean?"

"A cuckquean is the female equivalent of a male cuckold, a wife who brings in other women to fuck her husband in front of her. The wife is submissive to both her husband and his lovers."

"Really? That sounds so dark," Natasha replied, her right hand unconsciously drifting down towards her crotch.

Mike smiled at her and nodded.

"I guess it is kind of dark, but really quite fun as well," Mike said with surprising vehemence. "The cuckqueans are the most submissive slaves in the society. They exist only to serve their husbands and their lovers. The cuckquean herself is kept almost constantly denied."