Read The Accidental Sub Online

Authors: G. Stuart Crane

The Accidental Sub (28 page)

 

"Are you beginning or renewing your submission this evening?" I asked her.

 

She looked down, smiled and said, "Renewing, Master."

 

"Is this to be a public ceremony? If so, I would like to attend and share your joy," I said.

 

She added water to roses. "It would please my Master and his girl if this were witnessed. Please be here at eight o'clock."

 

As she was intent on her preparations, I left her alone. She would want things perfect and I was disturbing her. I would attend later with my slave. Some find this ceremony moving, not unlike a wedding in which one renews ones vows. It was however something new in the Manor and I went and got my equipment. I checked it out and it showed clean. The slave continued her work and was still concentrating on her task when I left.

 

I went back to the security room and checked out the property again. I was forgetting to look for "new" items and began to look for just that. The preparations for the red-and-white ceremony had reminded me of that.

 

No one questioned the security precautions I was undertaking as I went about my work. They were all part of Gerwald's defending against another white slavery or similar charge. The video system had saved him once. When the sub had changed her mind later about something she had done, the videotape was used in to prove that it had been consensual. The court had eventually dismissed the charges. He was under scrutiny from several agencies.

 

He could have made a case for harassment. The IRS had gotten involved and bounced back income taxes for his company and personal returns for five years. A few minor errors had been found but nothing of any substance. Other agencies had gotten involved as well. With a large capital outlay such as Gerwald had made turning his home into a playground for the BDSM crowd, someone is going take notice and stick their nose in there, "for the good of the people."

 

I briefly looked for Gerwald but didn't find him. His room was the one room that was not covered by the cameras. L.A. was tending to things in the kitchen and was only wearing her apron. It was pleasant to watch her engaged in her tasks. Her buns dancing lightly as she stirred a pot of steaming something. To watch her even via a closed-circuit camera was to want her. My job was done for now, but I would continue here until Gerwald reappeared and kept this madhouse running, or at least lurching along.

 

One of the wonderful things about people in the BDSM lifestyle is that they come from all over and all professions. If anything needed to be done at Gerwald's Manor, he could pick up the phone and make a request and have the work done quickly and at cost, all in return for having a fairly safe place to play and not be ridiculed. The people who were showing up to do things today included everything from actors to zoologists.

 

While I was considering these things, I noticed the Lord of the Manor himself coming out of his room. He reminded me of a contented lion who had just fed and was shaking off a pleasant exhaustion. His girls trailed behind him and all of them looked happy but discipline was maintained. I saw all the slaves head back into the kitchen. Bea was back in charge of the kitchen and took over the things. Zin went to one of the playrooms and began some stretching exercises. Cathy went to the pool area and began to work on setting up the food serving area.

 

I caught up with Gerwald in his study at his computer and filled him in on the results of the day's sweeps. I wouldn't kill the phone lines till later. His mood was excellent. He filled me in on the plans for the night and what he wanted me to do.

 

As expected, I would be at the door checking IDs and the smart cards for a couple of hours, but with a twist. He wanted L.A. to be the door slave.

 

I agreed and then he challenged me to a game of chess. We played three games using a two-minute time limit per move and with us winning one game each and a stalemate. Mostly it killed time and I found myself up against his multilevel game mind where several attacks and feints were made with a single move.

 

After we had finished the third game he went back to his working on his plans for the party and I went in search of my slave. All were sitting down at the kitchen table except Bea, who was doing mysterious things with a selection of spices.

 

They started to kneel but I stopped them and took L.A. in hand. We went back to our room and I told her what would be expected tonight. I had her try on the slave dresses she had bought and settled on one. This was the one that looked like a toga that she had worn the night she had made the gift of her anal virginity. It was very short and translucent. She would wear that and the leather collar and cuff set. Her perfume and a smile were the only other things I would allow her.

 

I had her practice the welcome at the door. I enjoy the novels of John Norman and his
Gor
series of books. I would borrow a few ideas from his novels for this occasion. Generally the female slaves are in one of three classes: work slave, tower slave, and pleasure slave. The tower slave could be described as a housekeeper who takes cares of the Master's chambers. L.A. would be in the mode of a tower slave this evening rather than a pleasure slave. The tower slave kneels with legs modestly together. Tonight she would kneel in the foyer and welcome visitors to Manor and humbly ask for the smart card that served as their identification. The smart card was simply known to this bunch as a “trinket.” I gave her several formulas for asking for the trinket. After receiving it, she was to hold it in both hands, kiss it, then give it to me with her head down and arms extended.

 

After I ran it through the networked laptop computer that checked the name, date, and the current balance in Phranks. I would let the visitors enter or tell them to leave. I would be dressed in black jeans, black shirt, and matching boots. Gerwald would provide a leather vest with a silver sword design on both breasts, his sign of the gatekeeper.

 

I had a "panic button" on the computer that would summon help if anything came up that was more than I could handle. We had once had a biker bunch who tried to crash the party and that was part of the evolution of trinket idea. People could bring a guest, but they had to be vouched for by a trinket-carrying member and who would be responsible for them and their behavior.

 

I went with L.A. to the foyer and practiced the procedure one more time. I had her bring her trinket and ran it through the card reader to check out the computer. I was very surprised when something other than the normal ID message came up on the laptop.

 

"Slave L.A.; Slave of Master G. Please insert card into download slot for balance adjustment."

 

I did and waited for the screen to change. In a second or two another message came up:

 

"Balance adjustment complete. Ph 50,000.”

 

L.A. had been awarded 50,000 Phranks for her help with the preparations for the party. I put my card in the slot and updated my trinket as well. The update message read:

 

"Balance adjustment complete. Ph 6,966,000.”

 

I had known I had something in excess of five million accumulated over a four-year period, but this took me back a little. In the past few months, I had swept his property but had not stayed for the parties since Dianne had left. The update represented several months of work.

 

LA was watching intently and said, with a chuckle, "You are rich here, Master. Could you buy me a housekeeper for a week?"

 

I didn't say anything but thought to myself, “Be careful what you wish for you might get it.” What could be more humbling to a slave than to be the slave of a slave?

 

The guests would be arriving soon, so I went to dress and motioned my slave to follow. I had not quite an hour and I was sure I could find some way to spend my time. When we got to our room, I had L.A. get on the bed and then I checked the wrist and ankle cuffs. I had put them on loosely for the practice but tightened them up now very snugly. She shivered a little as I took her limbs in my hand and began to adjust the cuffs.

 

She knew her time at the door was coming. Yesterday's little episode of being so exposed when I was showing off the random vibrator had thrilled her to the core. She had not said anything, but I could tell great deal from her body language. The condition of her nipples and the color of her skin spoke volumes.

 

I wanted her sexually charged. I had her get off of the bed and undress me. I had her kneel as she took off my shoes and socks. I had her kissing my feet as soon as they were bared and so it went until I was nude. I pushed her back to the bed and attached her arms and legs to the straps, then pushed the toga out of my way and began to kiss and lick her again. I kissed her sex until it was wet and open.

 

I teased her clit for a second, and then began to suck it, knowing that this would push her to the edge in a hurry. Then I left her there. Teaching a slave to orgasm on a spoken word is hard. In the first stage I had taught her to delay her orgasm until permission was given. The next stage is to provide a trigger word. It has to be something that is not sexually related and that seldom comes up in normal conversation.

 

"L.A., you can cum when you hear the word 'Leatherman.' This was a fold up multipurpose tool I usually carried on my belt. The word itself was obscure enough that it would do for a trigger.

 

I continued to caress her a few moments longer and when I felt her arch her body into mine, I said "Leatherman" and felt her begin to spasm. Her secretions were flowing and the insides of her thighs were wet from my kisses and her cum. I was quite happy that she had made the connection so quickly. I gave her a little time to enjoy it and fall into the soft afterglow of the orgasm. After petting her a little and letting her calm down, I freed her from the bonds.

 

I got up and admired her nearly nude form still spread out on the bed. She had not moved a muscle and was still exposed to her Master.

 

"Attend me," I told her and went to the shower and adjusted the water to my liking.

 

"You will bathe me now. This is the temperature that I like and will expect when I have you do this again." I stepped into the shower stall and watched as my slave stripped and followed me in. I gave her a wash rag and soap and waited.

 

I was sure she had never done this before, but she began in a second to soap and rinse me, standing or kneeling in that little stall as was necessary to clean me. Then I handed her the shampoo and let her wash my hair. I then had her stand and I washed her as well, paying a lot of attention to her breasts and crotch. The feel of her wet skin was very interesting to the touch, smooth and slick, sensuous. I almost took her in the shower. I stepped to one corner and told her to shampoo and watched. When she had finished, I stepped out and had her towel me dry. In a situation like that, the Master comes first. Then I let her dry her off.

 

I trimmed my beard and brushed my hair, then told her to attend to her beauty. I would only expect perfection for this event and I told her to make up her nipples. They had to be obvious through the toga. While I was dressing, I heard a hair dryer start and smiled at the thought of her doing these tasks at my command. Then I laid out the clothing she would wear.

 

She reappeared about twenty minutes later and was beautiful. Hair and face were perfect. Her hair looked like she had again stepped out of a salon; her body glowed from my attentions and the shower. Her nipples had been made up and were still erect. They poked at the light toga fabric like accusing fingers saying, "I am here for your pleasure, pinch me."

 

I had one other detail to attend to, a small concession to her modesty, a device called the "slave strip."

 

The slave strip consists of two parts. It could be described as a slave's loincloth. First I circled her belly below the navel with a light gold cord, and tied it tight about her. The second part is a strip of chiffon, silk, or other light and transparent fabric, about four inches wide and four feet long with the edges hemmed to prevent fraying. It can be worn a number of ways, either pulled through the belly thong in the front only, the back only, or under the body and draped over both the front and the rear to cover her sex and ass. I tried it all three ways and finally decided on the front only. The strip I had was light blue and matched her toga very nicely. The chiffon when doubled over the thong obscured her crotch nicely. If you looked very hard, you could not even tell she was a shaved slave.

 

Having attended to that, I had her follow me to the security room and had her sit while I attended to a few details. I started the sweep generator and found Gerwald on the monitors. He was watching a rehearsal by Zin and her troupe.

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