who woulda thunk it…Christmas eve eve, and there i was, writing a nice, mellow story to publish on Christmas eve…but after reading the comments from yesterday? i understand….so…heeding the cries for ‘more, more’, i have postponed that little story for Christmas Day instead. By popular demand, i bring you the final chapter to our young woman’s story. Thank you for liking her, and my work…ya’ll make it so worthwhile! ~nilla~
How she managed to look both confident and diffident as she passed through the crowded room was a testament to her training. Three intensive weeks had passed since she had turned up on his doorstep. At the beginning, He hadn’t been overly fond of her. She was foul, rude, and insubordinate. Yet, by carefully peeling away her layers, he had found a true submissive, who, he earnestly believed, had been acting out because she was lost.
It would be difficult to imagine the house without her here. He only took on one or perhaps two girls each year now…more and more girls were finding their submission at an age when they were more confident about finding their own Owners. It was a shame really. He was a throwback to a more subtle, more genteel age.
These days, there were cameras in phones, recording devices the size of a thumbprint, and girls falling all over themselves to be the next great submissive. Doing it his way, the old-school way, was quickly becoming an anachronism. It was why he had decided that tonight would be his last party. It was not just a graduation party for her, his last student, but a farewell to a community that had moved on with the times.
He watched her cross the room, and was pleased. She spoke with quiet deportment to each man who stopped her, even allowing herself to be petted. The men who attended his parties were carefully chosen compatriots whom, he was certain, would treat one of his girls with the proper balance of discipline and compassion.
Earlier this week he had attended a luncheon with her well-to-do parents. It had been a chance for her to show her newly reformed self in public, with people who knew her from her past. Parents were often the hardest to please.
Where once she might have been a brash, abrasive, wine-guzzling floozy in expensive clothing, she was now refined, quiet, yet brimming with life.
Indeed, she had been graceful and sweet, explaining that her weeks at his retreat had done much to quiet her inner worries. She’d had, she told them, an epiphany of sorts, and was happier now than she had been in a long while.
He could tell they were puzzled. Where was the ditzy socialite they remembered? Who was this woman who spoke knowledgeably about world events with her father, and the current fashions in Paris with her mother? She had eaten lightly, and taken only water at the table, explaining that she only allowed herself a glass of wine on occasion. He could see that they were baffled by the sudden changes in their daughter, but that they were very much relieved, too.
At the end of the meal, she had excused herself to go to the ladies room. He had known it was to remove the vibe that he’d been turning on and off throughout the meal. He had been very clear in his instructions when they had left the house. She would have 3 minutes to attempt an orgasm; if none were achieved in that time, then she was to reinsert the vibe, and return to the table.
If she had been able to orgasm, he had ordered her to return the device to him discretely at the table. He could barely suppress his glee when she returned to the table empty-handed. She had kissed her parents goodbye, and returned to her chair. He had watched impassively as they left. Then he had turned to her, scowling, though inwardly he was greatly amused.
“I had expected an orgasm.”
“Yes Sir. i am sorry Sir…three minutes wasn’t enough time for me..”
She gasped when the egg went on, turned to its highest setting.
“Raise your skirt so that your pussy is exposed.”
She complied but she was blushing deeply. His hand moved to the cleft between her thighs, and his finger unerringly found her clit. He rubbed roughly through the fabric of her panties, scrubbing at the tender flesh.
“Three minutes is more than plenty of time.”
Seconds later she gripped the edge of the table as she came. She desperately attempted to maintain an impassive facade. Yet, she knew her eyes were unfocused, her brain was boiling.
“Sweet mother of gawd,” she thought. “Thank you Sir,” she spoke quietly, shuddering. His finger had not stopped rubbing. She felt the suddenly urgent need rise and swamp through her again. Before three minutes were up, she had cum 4 times. Her thighs were trembling. Her lips were smiling, her eyes closed.
Her eyes flashed open.
“Three minutes was plenty of time. Let us be away.”
Obediently she followed him out of the restaurant, yet he knew she was walking on trembling legs. He hid his smile of satisfaction. She was nearly there.
Remembering, he smiled now. It was one of his fondest memories of their time together. How the scent of her had filled his car. How responsive she was when he bent her over his desk, and fucked her senseless upon their return home. He felt a curious pang thinking of her not being here..of there not being another girl to train. Yet it was his job, his personal mission, to bring a woman to the full ripeness that satisfied his male clients, and the submissives he trained.
*** *** ***
She walked around the room, letting them touch her, speaking politely to them, flirting subtly. There was not one man here tonight that made her feel the way Sir did. Seeing him sitting there in the corner wing chair made her feel sad, lonely. Too many of these men were just here for her holes. She understood that was her primary duty, to be a hole to assuage sexual need.
She understood that there would be a variety of sexual torments. She did, in fact, crave that. But they …she sighed. She didn’t think she had a voice in this. Would He sell her to the highest bidder? Would He take a variety of offers?
Already three men had said their farewells, and taken leave. They obviously were not attracted, or she wasn’t their ‘style’ of slut…but who knew, really? Perhaps they had decided to bid, or not.
While it pained her to be treated like a thing on one level, on a very base human…female level, it did something to her. Putting her in her place, on her knees in service made her horny as hell. Several times she had been ordered to the floor. Hands were laid against her head, her face pressed against crotches, where she felt the heavy thickness of hard cock….. but this was a non-sexual party.
She hadn’t known that, until Tomas had stopped one would-be suitor from taking her into the maids pantry.
“No Sir, I am sorry but tonight’s party is a showing, only. The miss is here to be viewed. You may touch her somewhat, but there is to be no intercourse, per the Master’s instructions.” And he had led the man back into the living room, while he made the ‘stay here’ gesture to her.
“Don’t you know anything, slut?” Tomas said upon his return. “Madeline was supposed to tell you that you were not to go with any of the men to play. This isn’t a fuck-all…”
She blushed. It was very possible that Madeline had said just that, and she had been so swamped with nerves that she had not fully gotten it. It would not be the first time that not paying full attention had gotten her in trouble.
“Thank you Tomas,” she whispered, and she scooted back to the living room before Sir missed her.
*** * ***
The door closed with a soft sigh, and Tomas flicked the lock on. Turning, he watched as the Master led the slut upstairs by her leash. He knew that the Master had taken to sleeping with the girl, and it had given him a faint hope that this one would find it in her heart to stay. He seemed usually quiet tonight. Tomas had been with the Master for many years now, and he’d never seen him looking quite so serious, almost sad.
He watched as the girl dashed up the steps behind her Sir, ignoring his slow and steady pace. Her hand came up and cheekily grabbed his right buttcheek. Tomas hid a grin as He went into the reception room to turn out the lights for the night.
*** *** ***
“Stop that, you impertinent slut!” Sir spoke firmly, but there was a smile in his tone.
“Yes Sir, of course Sir,” she replied. Her tone was mischievous. She slipped her hand into his palm, and rather than slapping it away, he allowed it to stay. Funny little chit, he mused to himself.
“I have received no fewer than 5 offers for you tonight, slut.”
The words hung in the air between them.
They walked the rest of the way to his rooms in silence. She brooded all the way there, about the advisability of saying what was in her heart to Him. Could she? Should she?
Yet, how could she not speak up? After tonight he could choose to release His hold on her, and lay her leash on another’s palm.
They went into his room, and she began undressing him as she had taken to doing these last few evenings. He seemed to appreciate it. When he would have pushed her away to remove his belt himself, she knelt and begged.
He relented. She held his belt across her open palms as she knelt on the floor between his feet. He took it up, and slapped each round tit several times. He admired the bounce of her breasts, the rapid flush of her skin, the sharp rise of her nipples. Her eyes glazed, and his cock rose. Reaching up, she unbuttoned, unzipped his pants, tugging them down. His hand rested on her head as he stepped free of them. She tugged down his boxers, and waited as he lifted each foot for her to remove his socks.
He took a fistful of her hair and pulled her to the bed. He may have been older, but he was strong as an ox. He laid into her ass with the belt. He enjoyed her moans, her whimpers, and her loud begging to cum.
“NOW,” he ordered “cum for me NOW my little whore!” as he jammed his thick hardness into her soft, wet cunt. Taking her from behind allowed him to fuck her deeply, sheathing his throbbing cock all the way into her slick tunnel, as his balls made a slapping sound against her clit. The bedding absorbed her wild cries as she came all over him.
He pulled away, ordering her to turn, as he tugged her to her knees.
Her lovely and talented mouth began to work on his slippery shaft, shining with her own pussy juices. She lapped at him, sucked at him, fondled him. She used every trick he had taught her in how to pleasure a man, and when he came, his cum practically boiled up from his balls and exploded into her throat.
He sat down on the bed, gasping. She crawled between his legs, resting her head on his thigh. He patted her absently as his heart-rate slowed to normal.
He felt wetness on his thighs under her cheeks. The little slut! Had she not swallowed all of his cum? He lifted her face, surprised to see tears, not the sex juice he’d expected.
“Why are you crying, slut?” he asked.
“Please Sir.” It was as far as she got before she burst into full sobs.
He was confused. The spanking had not been harsh enough to engender this. Nothing about this made sense. This was the first time she had broken down like this.
“Slut.” He spoke firmly.
Her head rose, her eyes brimming with tears, her lip trembling.
“You will speak now. Tell me what is going on here.”
She looked at him for a moment more, before replying.
“Oh SIR,” she burst out, “Oh please, please don’t send me away.”
*** *** ***
She circulated around the room, her hand resting on a forearm here, a shoulder there. She made certain that drinks were filled, that the guests were pleased.
A bevy of young women entered from the private entry at the rear of the room. Each wore a golden chain around their waist, holding a thin drape of black silk in place. As they began moving around the room, it was apparent that there was nothing under the silky fabric but woman, although a careful observer might notice an elegant Q tattoo on an inner thigh.
She made her way back to where he sat, and knelt by his feet. He leaned forward and secured the chain to the collar around her throat. There would be no mistaking that this slut was private property.
“You’ve done an excellent job with this years recruits, little one.”
His voice carried only to her attentive ear. Turning her head, she flashed him her most radiant smile.
“Thank you Sir. It is, as always, a pleasure to please you…in all ways.”
They sat, watching the interplay as men engaged women, trained sluts, hoping to find what these two silent watchers had found several years ago.
(and yes, they lived happily ever after.)