BEAUTY AND THE BEASTIE

BY CHRISTOPHER TOILKIEN

[ part 3 ]

“Find yourself a seat while I administer to her cuts.” Janette informed me. It is a very good thing I was here to testify to your incompetence with a switch that caused them.”

“Why would anyone care my property is damaged.” I inquired. The cuts I had placed on my slave’s body were an indication of my mastery, I thought.

“Because we jail people who do serious harm to their pets whether they are animal or human.” Janette informed me. “Every pet is carefully examined everyday at school for any sign of misuse, such as a poorly administrated switching that cuts the skin.”

“O” Was all I got out. So mistreating Susan beyond certain limits would get me in trouble with the local cops who happened to all be females, something to remember in the future.

Janette brought up a case that looked like one of those runway models makeup cases, but this one was full of bandages, salves and jars of ointments. She then proceeded to applied liniment to Susan’s marks as she winced, ooh and awed. And then both of them moved me back into that impersonal master bedroom’s washroom where Janette instructed Susan in the art of carefully shaving her master without cutting his nose off.

After which it was my turn to stand still and be dressed in suit pants, dress shirt, black socks and polished loafers. A full length dressing mirror showing me actually looking like a multi billionaire corporate bigwig.

And it was obvious little Susan was very proud of how her master was going to look in front of her towns’ VIP's.

When we returned to the main room and they had propped me into a soft chair position from where I could observe the whole room. I found the caterers had arrived and were setting up a long serving table filled with those stainless steel food warmers and another set with clear covers over salads and deserts. Everything was as normal as any catered affair.

If you ignored the little girls in thigh high boots, tiny leather skirts that barely covered their pert little asses. Leather buster, leather ringed neck collars and long opera length leather gloves, full pony headgear right down to chrome bridles. Their hair pulled up into a ponytail at the top of their heads, held in place by a large black leather bow, with a matching colored ponytail sticking upwards from their bustier right above the crack of their ass.

“Nice outfits.” I remarked to Susan.

“There will be plenty of bondage leathers supplied with the Princess room when it is installed.” Janette observed. “And Susan has already experienced many of them in her classes.”

“I will be looking forward to that room when it is ready.” I remarked.

“I have ordered a double dildo saddle for her pony.” Janette offhandedly informed both of us. “It comes complete with tied down stirrups and spring mounted waist cinch to keep her orgasming little body bouncing up and down over them as the horse canters.”

“You should thank Janette for looking after you’re riding pleasure, Susan.” I said.

“OOOOH My.’ Was all Susan replied.

A Lady in Gray

Just then an imposing adult female dressed in a light gray power suit arrived and all the little girls immediately stopped working, dropped to their knees, heads down, hands clasped behind their backs.

“Back to work miscreant slackers.” She ordered, and the girls leapt up to obey.

“Mr. Charlemagne?” She inquired as she walked towards him, right hand extended.

“I would stand as a man should to greet a lady.” I replied. “But I would probably fall on my face instead.”

“That is OK Mr. Charlemagne, I was informed you have just been released from the hospital.” She replied.

“Please call my Roc.” I offered.

“I am known as Sister Monette in other places, but you may just call me Monette.” She replied.” I understand you are new to pet ownership and may require assistance from an experienced one.”

“If your staff are any indication.” I smiled. “You certainly have impressed me.”

“That bunch are ones I had shipped out for another special party and are very aware of my strict regime at their Swiss private school where I am the dietitian in charge of the cafeteria.” Sister Monette informed me.

“Really?” I replied. “A special school for pets?”

“Robert Evans has sent the girl he knows as Foundling there.” She informed me.

“Robert Evans?” I inquired.

“The Ropeville Chief Constable. “ Janette replied. “And you will need Susan by your side constantly for the next year anyway.”

“Maybe you will become a student of that school in the future.” I informed the little slave girl kneeling submissively at my feet.

“But it was not rounding up more students that you came to see me about.” I asked.

“No, I am looking for a partner in my restaurant.” She informed me.

“What are the numbers?” I inquired. Money making more of the same was what she was here for anyway.

“The restaurant is guaranteed to return a 35% profit margin after one year and at least a 5% increase per year over the next years.” She satiated matter of factually.

“That is very good for a new restaurant.” I replied. “How exactly do you manage it?”

“We use slave labor.” She informed me without batting an eye. “It really cuts down on the overhead.”

“So how much to buy in?” I inquired.

“One million.” She replied. “And the numbered company avoids complications.”

“If your bookkeepers contact mine it is a done deal.” I replied extending my left hand. She did the same and we shook on it.

“Then I will see what I can do with your little problem.” She informed me.

“Please do not interfere.” Came a very cold tone. Obviously the businesswoman was gone and the dominatrix in charge.

“Fetch me a switch slave.” She instructed. Susan hesitated for a second and the dominatrix began to count. One, two, three, four, five, as Susan leapt up and ran as fast as she could for one now. She scampered back skidding on her knees to stop right in front of the glowering woman’s booted feet. On her knees, head down offering up the switch palm upward over her head.

“Another” She ordered and again Susan leapt up ran across the room, returning with another to present both as before.

“Another.” Again the leap, dash, grab, dash and submissive offering was repeated.

Monette repeated the order until a gasping sweating Susan held ten of them in her upturned palm.

“One of mine even fully dressed in leathers could have accomplished that in half the time and they are wearing stiletto heeled boots.” Monette informed Susan.

She relieved Susan of the switches, deftly separating them into two piles and then grasping them with her fists. Individual switches extending out from her hands between her fingers as if they were ribs in a ladies hand fan.

“Stand” And Susan leapt straight up.

“Up on your toes, legs spread wide, Hands behind your head, fingers intertwined, elbows pulled right back.” She instructed and Susan swiftly complied. “This is position two.”

“Do you wish to hear her scream or not? She inquired. Looking straight at me.

“Let’s see if she can remain silent.” I replied.

“Good choice.” Monette informed me. “Pets say nothing worth hearing anyway.”

“And having their vocal cords removed is always an option if they actually make too much noise.”

As she smiled with a twinkle in her eye, and was outside Susan’s range of vision when she said this. I knew it was only for Susan’s ears.

She then walked around Susan, both her arms crisscrossing endlessly in front of her. The tips of the switches in her hands sweeping over Susan’s body from her neck to her exposed soles. Susan’s skin reddened as if it was out in a desert sun, as sweat poured from every pour. Susan’s eyes flew wide, tears poured from her eyes and she was biting her lips to keep her trembling mouth from exploding into screams.

“Now that is a very experience dominatrix.” Janette informed me. The switches in her hands have struck Susan’s body hundreds of time and even though she is already covering her body a second time, there will be no permanent damage.”

Monette stopped walking dropped the switches and holding out her hand to her side, palm up, ordered.

“Bring me my whip.”

My eyes flew wide, but Janette indicated I remain seated as one of the leather clad little girls ran up and knelt submissively beside her, offering up a tightly coiled long bullwhip in her leather covered palms over her head.

“Thank you Flame.” She said removing the tightly coiled whip from her upturned hands. “You may return to your assigned duties.”

“Yes, Sister Monette.” The little flame red hared girl replied as she leapt up and ran off.

“With enough incentive.” Monette noted as she snaked the long black bullwhip across the floor in front of Susan.” A little girl can run in stiletto heels.”

“Now there is an incentive if I ever saw one.” I remarked, as the bullwhip snaked across the floor.

“That switching was just to sensitize your skin in order that it truly appreciates the caress of a bullwhip.” Monette informed Susan.

“I think it is time we heard from your vocal cords anyway.” She added.

Monette stepped back and the bullwhip snapped back in a wide arch behind her, shot back and wrapped itself around Susan’s hips. A scream was wrenched from Susan’s wide open mouth that continued and rose through the octaves as Monette played the whip up and down Susan’s uncontrollably trembling body.

After ten strikes Susan fainted and collapsed onto a pile of sweating, trembling little girl flesh on the floor. Monette simply stepped over her body and walked over to wear I sat, holding my self back from jumping up and tending to her tortured form.

“Not bad for her first whipping session.” Monette informed me. “She actually held out from running to you for protection as I supposed she would.

“Please examine her and photographically record her condition.” Monette asked Janette. “ I have a reputation to protect and a strict headmistress to convince this girl she cannot inspect personally will have no permanent damage.”

“No permanent damage from ten bullwhip strikes?” I inquired.” And who do you answer too that you are so worried about?”

“Sister A the headmistress of our school and my mistress will have no truck with any of her staff inflicting permanent damage on any of her students.” Monette informed me.

“Susan is not one of her students.” I replied.

“That will not concern her.” Monette answered.” Only that I have not inflicted any permanent damage.”

“I will examine her and provide you with a memory stick of photographic evidence to convince your headmistress.” Janette informed her as they bent down lifted poor little Susan’s whip streaked body and carried it off.

“Chivvies Regal?” Inquired Nikki. I took the double shot from the proffered little silver tray. Downed it all in one gulp and returned it on the tray.

Interesting Catering Staff

Apparently the food had arrived and with it three dominatrix leathers clad young females. I was surprised when they began ordering the other little girls around, and they hurriedly moved to unload the van and bring all the food inside. One was a reddish blond pixie, who watched over the food, probably responsible for its quality I surmised. Another a blond Germanic lass who took the girls standing behind the dispensing trays to task.

And a taller older third who I as she walked back and forth overseeing them all, I realized was probably the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Just then, Monette returned and all activity around the food halted as they all assumed to submissive stance.

“No one told you that you had earned a rest yet.” Monette instructed, without even glancing in their direction and they all leapt up and continued to work.

“Your pet is too fat from soft living. You should be able to just see her ribs.” She began. “I suggested she be dropped twenty pounds, but Janette would only consider ten for now.”

“How shall I accomplish that?” I asked.

“A total absence of any nutriments except your sperm is the usual procedure.” She informs me. “With hard labor or exercise so that she literally sweats the pounds off.”

Just then, Janette walked in leading Susan, nude, and chained with interconnecting fetters at wrists and ankles. Walked over to where I sat and said. ”Your pet, Mr. Charelamaine.”

Susan immediately dropped to her place, literally cowering at my feet, trying to pull herself into the tightest ball possible. Her furtive eyes watching every move of the one who had introduced her to the delights of a bullwhipping.

Monette shook her head. ”You have along way to go with this half trained one.”

“Half trained?” Janette inquired with an angry tone.

“She knelt without being told too.” Monette instructed. “A slave should not move a muscle unless directly instructed to do so. She may mew only vary occasionally, indicating she has some information her master just might be interested in. But normally the only sound she makes is when she scratches the floor to let her owner know she begs to be allowed to use the washroom.”

Janette sighed but it was a “who is she to tell us how to train our house pets” sound.

“Monette your obviously well trained staff contains one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen” I noted in order to diplomatically as possible, change the subject.

“Becky Sue” Monette said out loud and the taller girl immediately stopped what she was doing and walked directly towards us.

“Stand before Mr. Charelamaine.” She instructed as the girl approached.

Becky Sue walked up to me and stood right before where I sat. From long blond hair down through a very pretty face, full thirty-six bosoms, twenty-four waists, thirty-six hips long powerful dancers legs and appropriate sized feet. She simply was a perfect example of a California cheerleader in her prime.

Monette held out her hand index finger down and rotated it in a circle. Betty Sue immediately pirouetted in place. Her revolving body causing tiny lead weights in her micro mini black leather skirt to flare out, exposing her hairless loins and perfectly formed bum cheeks to my eyes.

“You are the most perfectly beautiful female I have ever seen.” I informed her. “Words I am sure you have heard much better phrased many times.”

The girl flushed at my praise.

“I suppose she is yours?” I inquired of Monette.

“No she will be turned over to her owner, along with her two similarly clad companions this Christmas as promised by Sister A” She informed me.

“Back to work, your pretty body will buy you no slack time from me girl.” Monette instructed and the girl sped off. But I could see Monette was smiling at Becky as she walked off.

“She is just sixteen has a engaging personality and has a gorgeous natural dancers moves.” Monette informed us. “ With a mind wise beyond her tender years.”

“Her owner is a very lucky man.” Janette replied.

“He hasn’t a chance up against those three.” Monette informed us.

“They will disobey him and run away?” I inquired.

“No, they will simply kill him with more pleasure than any mortal man could ever survive.” She replied, and walked off to supervise the catering as my guests were arriving.

“But it will be one hell of a death.” I sighed.

My Guests

Janette moved to stand just behind my right shoulder and whispered information about my guests as they arrived and walked over to greet me.

“David Hedgers, the Ropeville mayor and his Argentine born pet. Who he obtained to replaced the one the council took off him and sent to school in Switzerland with the others.” A late middle-aged man with graying hair cut in an easily managed style wearing a casual tailored suit very well and the easy stride of a man in familiar surroundings.

“As mayor I get the job of welcoming everybody who moves to Ropeville, Mr., Charelamaine but not very often one who arrived in the middle of a snowstorm and almost died before he could even move in.”

"”You could say it was an ill wind that in the end managed to do some good.” I replied. “As I will be living and working here for the next year at least.”

“Then we will be seeing each other at numerous events of this ilk.” He remarked and walked off. His little long black haired Argentine beauty in a sheer white silk, ankle length, lace dress, keeping her station, just one step behind and beside him.

“Why did they take her away?” I inquired as he walked off.

“Some rumor she was a clone of his dead wife.” Janette replied.

“Was that a miniature Medal of Honor he was wearing over his heart.”

“He was the commander of a unit composed of his fellow Ropeville men in Vietnam.” Janette informed me.

“At the beginning of the TET offensive the northern Vietnamese regular army captured the stone French church commanding the only bridge left into the city rear echelon units that had been cut off by their sudden advance, needed to cross into safety. He lead his men to retake the stone complex and then held off wave attacks until everyone made it across.” She continued.

“When they finally were able to fight their way out to rescue them. They found most of them dead and he was loading a Vietnamese mortar with his only useable arm and firing it straight up in order the shells fall all around the building were the Vietnamese regulars were hiding too frightened to try to break in again.” She continued.

“Six of his men gave independent accounts of his heroics saving their lives repeatedly during the attacks.” She informed him. “But he refused a personal Medal of Honor until they convinced him to accept it as a unit citation with all their names on it.”

“They usually require more than just his buddies word to give a man the Medal of Honor.” I inquired.

“The independent deathbed statements of US Marines honoring one of their own are usually taken at their word.” She replied. “They had been friends all their lives. Now he is the only survivor of his generation born in Ropeville.”

“Arthur Johnston, Fire Chief and his Ropeville born wife Sandra.” A handsome athletic man and a similarly built wife in well tailored clothes. They walked up hand in hand as equals.

“Greetings Mr. Charelamaine, he opened with. “ I could have used the snowstorm that announced your arrival last summer when all those wildfires almost burnt the town down around our ears.”

“ As a trained physiotherapist, we will be seeing much of each other as we get your right arm back up and operational over the next year.” She added.

“That storm tried its best to kill me, I would say it was not about to help anyone if it could avoid it.” I replied. “But I certainly will be looking forward to your assistance in recovering the use of my right arm.”

They both nodded and wandered of chatting.

“He had organized and led all the smaller fire departments in the hills above LA to fight last summers wildfires and was credited with the successful well co ordinatted defense against them.” Janette added as the walked off.

“Gerald Massy president of the Ropeville development bank with his little English Schoolgirl pet Mary.” A perfectly dressed Englishman if I ever saw one and little dark haired alabaster skin girl in a school uniform except the transparent silk blouse clearly showed gold rings in here pink nipples. She too kept in her proper place one step beside and behind him.

“I hope we will be doing business together.” He informed me in a perfect British accent. “It is possible, I replied. My customer support people could use a smaller airport with faster landing and takeoff times.”

“He is constantly wheeling and dealing between the Ropeville city planers and small high tech companies who’s owners wish to move to our relatively safe streets for their families sake.” Janette added as they moved on.

“Chief Constable Evans and his four senior watch commanders. They have unilaterally bonded together to keep him on the straight and level since his wife Mavis and her Valkyrie praetorians disappeared and are presumed dead. After completing an offshore mission earlier this year.”

A solidly built 30 something man with a military brush cut in an expensive suit. With four fully armed and armored senior constable rankers right behind him. Dam, but they probably scare the pants of any crook that would dare to cross the county line.

“Nice to see you have survived your encounter with our mountains.” He opened with. “And my people are very proficient in keeping anyone who wishes to keep a low profile, safe and sound.”

“I am probably going to do a hide and seek here for at least the next year.“ I replied.” And please call me Roc as my friends do.”

He shook my proffered left hand with his and walked off, followed by his close escort. “He is simply going through the motions completely on automatic.” I observed. “That is why they never let him out of their sight.” Janette replied. “They owe it to his wife, who was their association director.”

“Nora, owner of the large enclosed mall just east of town. A woman with a ready, salespersons smile and a soft pleasantly plump shape, she was obviously quite happy with.

Sally, small but athletic blond physician who specializes in developing little girl’s problems. A nude little dusky skinned girl in attendance with a very well muscled body glistening with fragrant oil.

Afro American Gwen, the principal of the Ropeville central school for girls. They were all lifelong friends of Mavis and her Valkyrie, and all had a trace of sadness in their eyes.”

“Evening Mr. Charelamaine.” They each said as they walked up together.

“Janette single handily tripled monthly sales figures for the mall yesterday.” Nora offered.

“She ran out of space in the truck so she stopped.” I replied. “But I will be looking to return this place to its former glory you can promise your tenants.”

“ I understand Mistress Vicki has already promised to take your new acquisition under her booted heel.” The principle said. “And you can see she is so very looking forward to it.” I smiled as I rubbed Susan’s sweating hair.

“I am the one who she will see everyday as well.” The little girl physician informed me as her expert eyes ran over my inexpert switch job.

“I observed and reported his very poor switching skills already Sally.” Janette injected.

“Bitch!” Janette added under her breath when they were gone. “That little lesbian has always had an eye on Susan as her next strap-on target.” She informed me. “And thinks every little girl in town should be deflowered by another female.”

“My friends who follow the sapphic lifestyle are loving and caring females. They may switch, bind and punish their slaves and sometimes each other.” She continued. “But do not aggressively hunt for virgins to deflower with their strap on just to add another notch to its ebony phallus.”

“When you agreed to take Susan’s body in payment for her fathers extensive health bills.” She continued. “Greatly surprised everyone with the revelation of your true sexual nature.”

“My true nature?” I inquired.

“Everyone always thought you were gay and Brad was your lover.” She calmly informed me.

”You could have felled everyone with a touch when you let her perform felletto, even if it was rather poorly done on her part.”

“I must have been the talk of the town.” I replied, obviously not amused.

“No, just those who were concerned Susan was not living up to her potential as trained.” Janette replied.

“Avalin Boyd Khan, architect, engineer, builder, and my husband.”

“They say you have inherited Frank Lloyd-Wright’s vision regarding people spaces.” I opened with.

“Love the way your old home blends itself into its landscape.” A Nordic blond man with the confident air of an artist, replied.

“See if you can do something with that inhospitable round main bedroom and the stainless steel horror beyond it.” I replied.” I want to restore this house too its former glories, correct furniture and all.”

“That will cost millions.” He informed me.

“Hah!” He exclaimed when he looked into my eyes. “Every house architects dream. To be given one of the few Frank Lloyd Wright designed home still in private hands to refurbish with an unlimited expense account.” He grinned and walked away to check out his new project.

“I did not know this was a Lloyd house.” I said to Janette. “And he is not some hulking concrete block basher either” I smiled.

“Frank lived up her most summers with the family of his best friend when he was growing up and designed all the expansions as payment for them putting up with him.” Janette informed me. “But you just might want do design a real big anti-spam thing to pay for it though.”

Norm Pomphrette, builder of all those new supper efficient office factory units, that lined both sides of the airport between the runways and the town. With his Ropeville born architect wife Melanie who made sure they make excellent sound barriers.” Another dark curly haired man of Latin descent and his equally Latino gene wife.

“If you could use an efficient little office block, I have one just right off the runway with its own Lear Jet service station.” He announced.

“Well I think I have a three engine one around somewhere, but you would have to be able to deliver quick passage through L.A.s flight zone.” I replied.

“We’ll talk later.” He smiled and they walked off, arm in arm.

“Your neurosurgeon Garrett, and his pet Natasha. Who he found almost starved to death rolled up in a fetal ball in a decrepit Russian hospital were they had botched an attempt to repair her spine and left her to die to hide their incompetence.” A compact man of possibly Mediterranean ancestry in a casual suit with an almost anorexic appearing little girl in a simple light shift and tiny slippers on tiny feet.

“Well you really should still be in a hospital bed.” He stated. “But with Janette and Susan by your side, you should make it in about a year.”

“Thank you again for saving my life and my arm.” I replied.

“I was the one who thought it had to come off and Susan here broke a picture frame over my head when I tried to.” He smiled. “So treat her to a non-fattening treat once and a while.”

He walked off, his tiny shadow moving with the grace of a dancer right behind him.

“The little one is bound for the Olympic gymnastic competitions years ahead of her peers.” Janette informed me. “They were trying to make her more flexible, but without his skill, and failed crippling her. But he worked on first saving her and then improving her bones, muscles and nerves until she is a perfect gymnast.”

“Ropeville hospital administrator Thomas and his Ropeville born wife Terry the hospitals CGA.” A senior aged Afro-American pair who still moved with easy grace hand in hand towards him.

“You have caused quite a stir with your arrival.” He opened with. “Many of us who cherish the older buildings of the founders such as yours worry they might be irreversibly transformed into modern utility units.”

“You have nothing to worry over this house.” I assured him. “I just gave Avalin cart Blanche to return it to its Frank Lloyd Wright designed state.”

“You should not mind him too much.” His wife added. “He thinks any building older than he is should be preserved as an historical structure.”

Off they went to find Avalin, I supposed, as they appeared be more interested in my house than its current tennant.

“Stephen Jacobs. Owner, Editor and publisher of the Ropeville expositor and his Thai pet.” I know knew why Evans had informed me his people were experienced at keeping people who wanted to disappear unharmed. This researcher and writer of exposé’s had at least a dozen powerful people or organizations looking to kill him.

“So, anything new on the death of your partner?” He began.

“I puked for over an hour after rushing in and finding his brains splattered all over the wall behind his desk, if that means anything” I replied. “And have no idea how to load or fire any gun.”

“Actually they tested your hands and clothing for gunpowder residue in the hospital under direct orders from Evans.” He informed me. “And found nothing, which quashed the warrant for your arrest that was issued by the LA police.”

“Well, I hope we can both live her quietly and safely.” I replied. “The amenities of living in Ropeville are not lost on either of us.” He noted, nodded slightly in my direction and walked off to talk with Norm. The honey skinned girl wearing only a colorful silk wrap around her hips with bare feet and her dark nipples on tiny breasts with silver nipple rings scooting along right after him.

“Once an investigative reporter, always an investigative reporter.” Janette added.

“Nipple rings seem in fashion for pets this season.” I stated. “I wonder how painful it is when it is done?”

A tiny whimper from the floor just at my feet informed me someone knew.

No one had asked for money, none had asked for my company’s help and no one had even glanced at my pet still cowering in fear of Monette’s whip at my feet. I had rubbed her blond hair when one of them with a pet in tow approached, but other than that, had forgotten about her.

Oral Pleasures

Nikkei had kept me supplied with choice pre cutup selections from the serving trays. Mouth watering king crab, steak that melted in your mouth. Ribs that were a delight and boneless skinless chicken in a sauce who’s origins were divine. But the glasses were only filled with ice water and Janette vetoed my requests for anything stronger.

I had only let Susan lick my fingers and so far tonight had not fed her anything more.

Monette came past gathering accolades for the food and handing out leather embossed business cards.

“You are an excellent chef.” I complemented.

“Barbie.” She said and soon the little reddish blond hared girl in full dominatrix leathers arrived with a worried look on her face.

“All the food preparation was hers.” Monette informed me.

“Then you are to be complimented.” I said to her when the harried looking pixie stood before me.

“ I almost cried when the chicken sauce failed and am ashamed to be responsible for the crab.” She informed me. “ Maurice would have hung me by the thumbs over his hot stove and thrashed me for such a poor result.” She informed me.

“She is by far her own worse critic.” Monette informed me with a wry smile.

“Maurice was Europe’s most honored chef and Barbie his prize pupil.” Monette said. “And she is never more than ten feet from the great sauce pan he gave her that he had received from his own equally famous chef father”

“ But the steaks almost melt in your mouth and they are an inch thick.” I countered with.

“So they at least taste OK? The miniature chef inquired.

“Do you not eat your own creations? “ I inquired.

“We three only eat from Sister Monette’s gloved hand.” She replied.

“See if you can pull off desert without a hitch at least.” Monette instructed and the little cook ran off to comply.

“If you thought the main course was good wait until you try her pastries.” Monette informed me. “ They are quite literally to die for.”

Then murmurs of enjoyment coming from the dessert table indicated she was very correct in her evaluation of Barbie’s work.

Nikkei then strode up with a small plate pilled with confections of every description. Her usually perfect hair was mussed and I inquired why.

“You are lucky I am small and was able to work my way in between them as they devoured the pastries like a herd of locus.” She informed me.

“You have served your house master well beyond your required time tonight Nikkei.” In informed her. “Treat yourself to a shower and be off to bed.” She bowed low and sped off to do so.

My guests, having devoured everything in sight were now milling around and chatting as they held coffees or tea.

“They are not aloof, but as of yet are not sure of you.” Janette informed me. “Seeing you openly display your little pet, nude, in chains and showing the signs of a recent switching at your feet will reinforce your commitment to Ropeville. “ She added.

“Not everyone of them have one.” I noted. “If not they have a Ropeville born wife.” She replied.” “Evans had a Ropeville born wife and a little non-Ropeville trained pet he inherited from his dead brother.”

“They will probably ask for a private meeting some time in the future depending on what they want from you.”

“Stall everyone until at least the end of the month.” I informed her. “And let it be known tonight may have taxed me too much before I was really ready for it.”

“That will be an easy sell as you still look like death warmed over.” She informed me. “ The only reason I am standing here behind your chair is because I am holding you up from falling forward on your face with my fist holding tight to you shirts collar.”

It was obviously time to go, as the caterers had packed up everything into their truck and the girls were lined up along the wall where my guests could have a final look at them as they departed.

They all came over said their good byes and left.

Monette walked over and extended her left hand.

“For me this party has been quite a success.” She began. “But I have had to disappoint quite a few people by refusing to part with any of my staff, especially Barbie and Becky.”

“Then you will not be sending me a bill?” I smiled.

“It was not that successful.” She replied. “Businesses still business after all, partner.” Gave me a nod and ushered her bound staff out the door.

“Why do you think she is even in the restaurant business?” I inquired of Janette.

“Probably out of boredom.” She replied. “ I understand she was raised in Argentina by her chef father and then after graduation spent years belonging to a famous American chef and author of cook books.”

“Besides, I am tired on triple overtime and my husband is waiting to drive me home and tuck me into bed. Or do I have that reversed?” She smiled. “So lets get you undressed and into yours first.”

Susan and Janette managed to get me stripped and slid into my bed. Then she instructed Susan to watch over me and she was gone.

“Time for a feeding, slave.” I ordered and Susan slid under the covers at the foot of the bed, licking my body from the feet all the way up to the parts, she was most interested in.