Perfect Slave (24 page)

The door of the conference room opened again, and Gary slipped back in. ‘Don't worry,' he said, ‘I'm not going to hurt you.'

He pulled one of the chairs out from the conference table, carried it over to her. He examined the metal collar around her throat. He touched the lock on the front of the ring and it sprung open, Andrea gasping with relief. She stretched her neck back and forward, easing her cramped muscles.

Gary sat on the chair. He stared at her thighs and began rubbing the front of his trousers. ‘Why don't you say anything?' he asked.

‘I'm only supposed to talk when I'm spoken to, sir,' she explained.

‘You're so obedient. Hawksworth said I could touch you. Hawksworth says you're whipped; on your bum and tits. Is that true?'

‘Yes, sir.'

Gary looked nervous and uncertain. Andrea could see a distinct bulge pushing against the front of his trousers too, but it looked as though he were wrestling with himself as to what he should do. He looked from her thighs, up to her breasts, then back down to her legs.

Suddenly he appeared to make his mind up. He rose to his feet and unzipped his trousers. His cock sprang out between the tails of his shirt. He took it in his hand and began to wank aggressively.

He cupped one of her breasts. He moaned. He moved his hand down over her flat tummy and then up under her skirt. She felt a finger prodding into her labia. It found the opening of her vagina and pushed up into her.

‘You're so wet,' he drawled. ‘Is that because you're excited?'

Hawksworth had clearly given these men free rein when it came to her. Like Martin last night, serving them was a way of pleasing her master, so she wanted to make sure Gary was impressed. ‘I'm very excited,' she whispered.

‘Why?'

‘Because I want to take you in my mouth,' she said, and it was true. She felt her sex clench around his finger.

‘Really?'

‘Do you want to whip me? Would you like that?' Strictly speaking she should have been silent, but she thought the ends justified the means. This was what her master wanted, she was sure.

‘Yes,' he said. His hand was moving up and down his cock like a piston.

‘Whip my tits, then fuck me. Would you like to do that, Gary?'

Suddenly his body went rigid. He just managed to twist to one side so the arc of spunk that jetted out of his cock missed spattering her skirt and blouse, and landed instead on the floor. His body shuddered and he let out a long low groan.

‘Oh, God,' he said, the moment he was capable of saying anything. He looked at his watch, then at Andrea. Quickly he pulled his finger from her vagina and snapped the metal ring shut again, forcing her chin up as before. He examined her clothes to make sure none of his spunk had landed on her, then grabbed paper napkins and mopped up his mess, dumping them in the waste bin under the table just as the door of the conference room opened again.

‘Your penis,' she whispered, and he looked down in alarm. His cock was still hanging from his fly. He pushed it back in and zipped himself back up.

‘Well, gentlemen, shall we get on?' Hawksworth said, walking back into the room.

 

The meeting lasted a further hour. Andrea saw Gary glance at her surreptitiously from time to time, but other than that the men ignored her. Hawksworth brought the meeting to a close, declaring himself satisfied with the deal struck and shaking hands with the bearded man.

All five then left the room again, talking animatedly of future successes, leaving Diana to clear up the papers and files left on the table. But the blonde didn't say anything to Andrea, either. She stacked the files, picked them up and carried them out of the room.

Andrea's body ached from standing still for so long, though her legs were not so uncomfortable since Hawksworth had pulled up her skirt. The effort of keeping her head up was making the muscles in her neck cramp, and she was beginning to get a burning desire to go to the loo. But her overriding feeling was still anticipation. She had no idea what was going to happen next, but from what Hawksworth had said it sounded as though he was going to be going with her.

The silence continued. The pressure in her bladder became worse. She tried to think about Hawksworth and what he'd said, but the desire to pee was now increasing exponentially, making it hard to think of anything else. As Hawksworth was such an expert in devising humiliations for his slaves, she wondered if this was another one; that he would send Diana in to find her standing in a pool of her own pee. But that would surely be a punishment, and after what he'd said about Martin it didn't make sense that he should want to punish her.

She wriggled and squirmed, trying to find a position that would put less pressure on her belly. It would have helped her if she could close her legs.

Eventually the door opened again and Diana returned. ‘Did you think we'd forgotten about you?' she said, in a mocking tone.

‘Please,' Andrea gasped, ‘I need to go to the loo.'

‘I thought you were not supposed to speak unless spoken to.'

‘Please, it's urgent.'

‘I bet.' In no particular hurry Diana unclipped the metal collar at Andrea's neck. She ran her hand down over Andrea's tensed tummy. ‘Bad, is it?' she taunted.

‘Yes.' The metal band around her waist was opened, then the one on her left ankle. Andrea pressed her legs together, but the relief was only momentary. She still needed to pee.

‘Come on then,' Diana said, walking across the room, and Andrea tottered after her, each step jolting her bladder and making the need worse. There was a small door to the right of the room which lead into a corridor. Halfway along were two toilet doors, and Diana held the women's one open and allowed Andrea to go through first.

She hurried into one of the cubicles, but even though her skirt was partially hitched up around her hips she still needed to pull it up further, a feat she could not perform with her hands still bound to her thighs. She tried to inch her skirt up with her fingers, but the process was altogether too slow.

‘I need help,' she pleaded.

‘Help, from me?' Diana said, sardonically. She wandered over to the cubicle and held the door open.

‘Please,' Andrea said, straining her hands against the leather cuffs so Diana would see the problem.

‘Must be terribly difficult.'

‘Please help me.'

The links that joined the leather cuffs to her thighs had a small snap-lock, which Diana opened, allowing the skirt to be hoisted up over her buttocks.

Andrea sank onto the loo. A stream of pee escaped her with terrific force. Diana stood watching, her eyes locked to Andrea's sex, the cubicle door still open.

‘Must be bad,' she mused. ‘I've always wondered what it would be like. To be so helpless, I mean; to be so totally dependent on others. You can't even pee if Hawksworth doesn't allow it.' Diana's body shuddered slightly. She was rubbing her forearms against her breasts. ‘Is it exciting?'

Eventually the stream stopped, and Andrea wiped herself with toilet tissue. ‘Yes.'

‘Aren't you going to thank me?' Diana asked.

‘Thank you,' Andrea replied.

‘No, not like that,' Diana said. She closed the cubicle door. ‘I think I deserve something a little more intimate. I saw the way you were looking at me this morning. Do you know I've never tried it with a woman, but looking at you, I think it's time for a little experiment. Naturally you're not going to mention it to Mr Hawksworth, are you?'

‘What do you want me to do?' Andrea asked.

‘Kiss me.' Diana held Andrea by the shoulders and pushed her back against the cubicle wall. Very tentatively she kissed her on the lips, but slowly she increased the pressure, her tongue slipping into Andrea's mouth. She crushed her body against her too, her belly grinding from side to side, their breasts squashed together. Andrea felt a jolt of excitement. She knew she shouldn't be doing this, but she didn't see that she had much choice.

‘Nice,' Diana purred. ‘I've always wondered what it would feel like.' She hitched her short skirt up over her hips. She was wearing panties and stockings. She braced herself against the opposite wall of the cubicle with her legs apart. ‘Come on then.'

‘What do you want me to do?' Andrea asked again.

Diana took her hand and pulled it inside her panties. ‘Mr Hawksworth makes you have sex with women, doesn't he? That's what I heard. You must know what to do.' She pressed Andrea's hand down over her sex mound. Andrea prodded a finger between her legs and into the slit of her labia, finding her clit. Diana gasped as Andrea's finger rubbed the little nut of nerves. ‘Oh, yes...' she sighed.

Andrea pushed her finger into the girl's vagina, feeling juices seeping over it. ‘Can you feel that?' Diana asked. ‘I'm so turned on.'

‘Yes,' Andrea said. She moved her finger back to Diana's clit, leaving a trail of wetness against her labia, Diana shuddering with delight. She stroked her finger from side to side.

‘Like that, yes, like that,' the girl urged. She raised a hand and wrapped it around Andrea's neck, her fingers digging into her flesh. Andrea rubbed her clit more rapidly. The girl moaned loudly and threw her head back against the wall. ‘Don't stop, don't...'

She couldn't get out the last word; it turned into a low cry of pleasure. She rolled her head back against the cubicle wall again, pulled Andrea's face to her so it was buried against her shoulder and came, her clitoris pulsing under Andrea's finger.

As her orgasm faded she pushed Andrea's head away and looked her in the eyes. ‘I've never come so quickly before,' she said. ‘I always knew it would be good with another woman.'

Andrea pulled her hand out from her panties.

‘I better get you back.' Diana pulled her skirt down.

Andrea's sex was throbbing. Feeling the girl come had aroused her own needs. She would love to kiss the girl again and pull down those panties. She would love to press her mouth to the girl's sex and make her return the compliment, but she knew she could do no such thing.

Diana smoothed Andrea's skirt back down quickly found the slits on either side and clipped the leather cuffs back to the thigh bands. ‘Don't say a word,' she warned as she pulled her out of the cubicle and towards the door.

‘I won't,' Andrea said.

Diana had used her. She supposed she should have refused to cooperate, but like Laurie, Diana was acting directly for her master so she could persuade herself, even if it wasn't true, that by obeying her she had been obeying her master too. At least that was how she was going to convince herself that what she'd done had not contrived the dictates of being a perfect slave, which didn't mean it was wise to tell Hawksworth what had happened.

‘I won't,' she repeated.

 

 

 

The black Mercedes cruised along the motorway. Charles Hawksworth sat in the back, with Andrea at his side.

‘Is the bondage uncomfortable?' he asked. He had opened the cocktail cabinet built into the partition that divided the driver's compartment from the passengers, and poured himself a malt whisky.

‘Yes, master,' she said, her wrists still secured to her thighs, the leather cuffs biting into her flesh.

‘I saw you looking at Diana,' he said. ‘She's a lovely young woman, isn't she?'

She felt a jolt of alarm. What did he know? ‘Yes, master.'

‘Do you think she would be suitable?'

‘I don't understand, master.'

Hawksworth smiled. ‘She wants to come to the manor, but I'm not sure she has what it takes. She's not submissive. She's a dominant personality.'

‘Yes, master.'

Was there a video camera in the toilets? Had Diana been yet another test, and one she had patently failed? Andrea felt her heart beating faster.

‘Perhaps I need to set her a little test,' he mused, almost to himself.

Andrea remained silent. As Hawksworth showed no signs of being angry with her she relaxed slightly.

The car slowed, then pulled through the wire gates of a private airfield. It drove straight up to a small white jet parked on the taxiway. The driver got out and opened the passenger door.

‘Come on, my dear,' Hawksworth said, helping Andrea out of the car. A uniformed stewardess stood by the steps that led up to the plane. She had short dark-brown hair and a curvaceous figure.

‘Good evening, Mr Hawksworth,' she beamed.

‘Good evening, Isabel. Take Andrea in and get her settled.'

‘Certainly, sir.'

Isabel took Andrea's arm and guided her up the steps. The main cabin of the plane was as luxurious as the interior of the car. It had large comfortable armchairs, a sofa and a dining table surrounded by four chairs. There was a bar in one corner and a large television screen.