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From: artyeleven@yahoo.co.uk (Artyeleven)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 24 Feb 2004 17:07:39 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} Serena 3/10 {Arty} (MF slow rom cons D/S Mdom Fdom span lght)
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Date: Wed, 25 Feb 2004 00:10:03 -0500
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Serena
by Arty

3.	Meetings

"Come on, Darling, or we shall be late." She shuddered a
little at the word late; the time was ten minutes to ten.

I stood for a moment and looked at her. I was amazed at the
transformation; this was a Serena I had never seen before;
she glowed. As she moved I could hear tiny bell-like sounds.
I looked for the source and found tiny bells hanging from
the rings in her nipples. She was still wearing the chain
attached to the ring above her clitoris and attached to that
was yet another tiny bell. The chain swung from side to side
as she walked, causing a catch in her breath each time it
brushed against her. She caught sight of the direction of my
gaze.

"Another standing order, I presume?"

She nodded and blushed, as she looked downcast. I looked at
the clock. "It's only just past ten to ten, the car won't be
here for ages yet."

"I have to be outside waiting for at least five minutes
before the car is due to arrive. It won't come until 10
o'clock or five minutes after I start waiting, whichever is
later. I get 10 strokes for every minute after 10 that the
car is late."

She said this in a monotone still looking at the floor. I
put my fingers under her chin and raised her head so she
looked at me. "I've been doing some thinking. When I fell in
love with you, all this was part of you then. I can't bitch
about it now that it's all in the open. I still love you and
I still want to marry you. I'm not strong enough to be happy
without you, so don't worry, we'll work something out."

I must have been the right thing to say, because she smiled
like a super-nova and kissed me as passionately as she had
ever kissed me. Then she saw the clock.

"Oh God! Come on!" She grabbed a coat and slipped it on as
she did the same with her shoes. The house keys went in her
pocket and we scurried out of the front door and ran to the
bottom of the drive. I looked at my watch 9:54, I showed it
to her and she smiled at me gratefully. We waited silently,
hand in hand. I passed the time composing letters to an
imaginary agony aunt. 'Dear Deirdre I've just discovered
that my fiancée is another man's pleasure slave. What should
I do? Yours sincerely, Confused of Coventry'

'Dear Confused. ...' This was as far as I got as I was
distracted by the arrival of a dark blue limousine. The car
was silent apart from the crackle of the tyres on the loose
gravel at the side of the road. As we waited, a tall
chauffeuse stepped from the car and opened the rear
passenger door for us. Before I could say anything, Serena
slipped off her coat and shoes and indicated that I should
get into the car before her. I was about to balk when I
realised that the longer I messed about, the longer she
would be outside, naked. Serena handed her clothing to the
chauffeuse, followed me into the car and knelt on the floor
with her back to the door and her hands resting on the back
of her neck. She spread her knees as widely as she could and
waited patiently for the chauffeuse to close the door behind
her.

The door closed with that sound that only really expensive
cars can make. I wondered if there was a research and
development department devoted to ensuring that the doors of
expensive cars didn't make the same sound as cheaper models.
I held out my hand to Serena and stroked her arm. She smiled
at me, grateful for the contact. The car started away, I
gave the chauffeuse full marks; the only way that I could
tell that we were moving was the fact that the scenery
outside the window was in motion too. It was all so unreal.

"How long is the journey?"

My voice sounded shockingly loud in the hushed surroundings
of the limousine.

"There's some congestion on the by-pass, but we should be at
the estate in a little under 20 minutes, sir." The
unfamiliar voice of the chauffeuse sounded from a hidden
speaker above the glass screen that separated the front of
the limousine from the passenger compartment. I looked a
question at Serena; she shook her head quickly and pursed
her lips.

"Slaves are not permitted to speak in the car, except with
the express permission of the Master, sir."

"Thank you."

"You are welcome, sir"

We drove in silence for the rest of the journey.
Occasionally, even the superb suspension was no match for
the depredations of the local road surface and these bumps
were greeted by the tinkling of the tiny bells attached to
Serena.

Outside the car, the urban landscape gave way to the gently
rolling greenness of the English countryside that only
Ireland can surpass. I wondered at the words of the
chauffeuse 'the estate'. I supposed, had I thought about it,
that one would need a certain amount of privacy if one were
keeping naked slaves about one's house. I reflected,
ruefully, that it wasn't a subject to which I'd given much
thought.

I looked at Serena; the routine of the journey seemed to
have had a calming effect on her. She had said that she made
this journey, or one like it, at least once or twice a
month. I wondered what she was feeling. She must have felt
the weight of my gaze, for she looked up and smiled
reassuringly at me. It made me feel both better and worse at
the same time. Here I was, starting to wallow in self-pity
when she, who was headed for who-knows-what in ten minutes
time, naked and wearing his chains, still took time to try
and reassure me. I took a deep breath and resolved to do
better. I smiled back at her and mouthed the words 'I love
you'. I saw a tear roll from her eye and I leant forward to
capture it on my fingertip. I placed it on my tongue; I
expected a salty taste, but in fact I tasted nothing.

"We are just entering the estate now, sir." The chauffeuse
interrupted the fugue state into which the journey had swept
me. I looked out of the window of the limousine and glimpsed
the pillars of an enormous gate as we swept through it. I
turned in my seat and looked back through the rear window to
see the ornate, cast-iron gates sliding shut behind us.
Serena knelt impassively as our journey neared its end.

The drive meandered through the manicured grounds of the
estate. As hard as I tried, I could not tell where the
grounds ended and the rest of the countryside began. As we
negotiated a curve I could see an imposing Palladian-style
mansion. It looked like we had a reception committee.

The car swept impressively to a nearly imperceptible halt
and the chauffeuse opened the door on my side to let me
disembark. I stood with my back to the car and stretched as
I gazed out over the glorious view that the house commanded.
I turned to greet the two people who were standing, silently
waiting. By then however, the chauffeuse was blocking my
view as she opened the door for Serena, so I started to walk
around the car to introduce myself to them.

Rounding the final corner of the car, I stopped -- struck by
the fact that both of our 'committee' were nude. Serena had
left the car and was greeting them both enthusiastically
with hugs and kisses. Having thoroughly kissed and hugged
them both, Serena knelt at the feet of the woman and waited
with her neck extended and her head bent submissively
forward. Taking the leather strap that she was holding in
her hand, the woman looped it around Serena's neck and
buckled it closed, checking that the fit was snug, but not
constricting. When she finished doing this, she looked up
see me watching this tableaux. It was then that I realised
the woman was almost a clone of Serena! I chided myself -
given their obvious age difference; Serena was almost a
clone of the woman, whom I surmised to be her mother. I
turned my gaze to the man; I supposed that this was her
father.

The departure of the car in a flurry of crackling gravel
made us all jump. Seemingly of their own volition our eyes
tracked the departing limousine as it rolled all but
silently away. The chauffeuse was still in possession of
Serena's coat, and hence her house keys and I speculated
idly about getting them back. I shook myself angrily. I
could see that I was attempting to withdraw from the
situation; concentrating on trivia was a symptom. Serena
deserved better than this. I turned once more to face
Serena's parents, but before any of us could exchange
greetings, Serena's parents knelt gracefully and I turned to
see a tall, very black-skinned man walking towards us from
the direction of the gardens. He smiled warmly. I gathered
from the behaviour of Serena, and the people that I presumed
to be her parents, that this was the mysterious 'Master'.

"Welcome. Welcome to my humble abode." I recognised the
urbane tones from the 'phone conversation last night that
this was, indeed he. The three people kneeling in front of
me, straightened their posture on his approach and widened
their knees still further in small increments. Both of the
women had by now placed their hands behind their head, the
man simply clasped his hands behind him. This posture
ensured that their entire bodies were on display. I felt a
terrible pang of jealousy that Serena was exposing herself
to him, but I couldn't see what I could do about it. I
balled my fists in frustration.

Jack, I refused to think of him as 'the Master', turned to
his slaves. "Sofia, congratulations, I'm so happy for you."
He stroked her hair proprietarily; once more I felt the urge
to strike out; how dare he touch her! Then after bestowing a
kiss on the top of her head, causing her to wriggle with
happiness and me to squirm in suppressed rage, he dismissed
them. They rose gracefully to their feet and then Serena was
led away. As she left, she turned and gave me a reassuring
smile - this time it was her turn to mouth the words 'I love
you' to me. I felt myself relax and I let out the breath
that I didn't know I had been holding with an explosive
sigh.

"It's not as bad as you think, old chap. Come with me and we
will talk. Sofia has told me a lot about you but that isn't
the same as two fellows sitting over a drink and talking.
Eh?"

We walked towards the house; I followed because there was
nothing else I could do. My thoughts were in turmoil. Who
was he? What sort of hold did he have over Serena and her
family? What sorts of things did she do with him? She'd said
she was a virgin, but was that true? Did she suck him off?
Did he eat her out? Visions of Serena writhing in blissful
pleasure as he thrust his long black fingers into her
smoothly shaven pussy tormented me. Then I realised, to my
everlasting shame, I found the visions arousing - oh Christ
I didn't deserve her! What sort of bastard was I to get
turned on by the thought of someone else making my fiancée
cum? I felt wetness on my cheeks and I realised that I was
crying. I stopped and held my head in my hands and sobbed.

Jack turned to watch me. Finally he spoke. "David old chap,
the things that you must be imagining are far worse that the
reality, let me reassure you of that."

"How the hell do you know what I'm thinking?"

"I think that it must be the sort of things that any
reasonable chap would be thinking when presented with the
facts that you have been presented with."

I stared at him. "I suppose..." I said sulkily

"Before we carry on to the library, perhaps I can put your
mind at rest about one thing at least: I have never had any
sort of physical sexual contact with Sofia, nor do I have
any plans to. You see, I consider her to be more my daughter
rather than my slave."

However shocking the revelation of his feelings toward
Serena, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders and the
blackness that had threatened to engulf me receded somewhat.
Before I could continue the conversation however, he ushered
me forward.

"The library is the next door on the right and is a far more
congenial venue for what will obviously be a very difficult
conversation for you." He paused and reflected, "And for me,
for that matter." On that note, Jack continued walking
towards the door that he had indicated as being that of the
library.

The heavy wooden door swung silently aside and Jack motioned
for me to precede him into the library. Inside was a
traditional gentleman's library for this type of house.
Shelves lined the room from floor to ceiling. Ladders on
rails were spaced at intervals around the room to enable the
books on the higher shelves to be reached. I turned as the
door was closed behind me. As I expected the door was lined
with fake book spines so that it blended into the bookcase
that surrounded the door itself. Even though the weather
outside was warm, a real fire crackled comfortingly in the
grate. The occasional hiss as pockets of gas in the coal
were ignited was loud in the studied silence of the room.

Jack led me over to two overstuffed leather chairs that were
set at right angles to one another near to the fire. A table
containing glasses and several decanters was set
conveniently in the narrow angle between the two chairs.
Gesturing me to sit, he pointed to the decanters.

"There's Scotch or Scotch or Scotch - I'm a somewhat of a
Single Malt fan, so you have the choice of Talisker,
Highland Park or Lagavulin. The Lagavulin is a good choice
if you aren't used to malt whiskies." While he was talking
he poured himself a generous measure of Talisker.

"I'll join you in a Talisker if I may?"

He poured a further measure into another glass and handed it
to me. I sipped and let the familiar peppery, peaty flavours
fill my mouth. As I sipped again I realised that the drink
was at once familiar and different. I allowed my pleasure to
show.

"I presume this isn't your basic twelve-year old, is it?"

"I'm impressed that you could tell. It's a thirty-five-year
old."

The age referred to how long the whisky was allowed to
mature in the cask. Once a Scotch is bottled it will remain
essentially unchanged for centuries, as long as the bottle
remains unopened. I sipped again and relaxed a little.

"I have been giving this conversation no little thought and
I think it's best if I explain a little bit about myself and
my lifestyle. Then I will tell you some of Sofia's parents'
history with me and finally, I will tell you about Sofia
herself. After that you may wish to ask me questions and I
will try and answer them as best as I am able." He paused to
let that sink in then continued. "Obviously if you don't
understand something then you should ask me immediately and
I will try to explain; but if it's a substantive question I
would suggest that you wait until the end, as I may answer
it for you in something I say later."

I nodded. He looked pensive and for the first time I
realised that for all his urbanity, he was almost as unsure
as I was. For obvious reasons this made me feel better. I
sipped my Scotch and revelled in the complex flavours,
content, for the moment, to wait.

"First let's get some terminology out of the way. You may
have heard some of it before. Master/Slave,
Dominant/Submissive, and Top/Bottom; they all describe, for
me, similar types of relationships. I prefer Master and
Slave since I am an old-fashioned sort of person. There are
many types of Master/Slave relationships but the only type I
am concerned with is one that involves a consensual erotic
power exchange. I am not the sort of person interested in
forcing someone to do my will. The people that you will see
here are all here by choice."

He took a sip of his drink and looked at me to see if I was
following him. I nodded for him to continue, interested
despite myself.

"You should discard any concepts that you have that involve
whips and chains." He smiled a little. "That's not to say
that whips and chains don't sometimes play a part on this
estate; but they are not the primary means of expressing my
dominance here."

"You like your slaves naked," I interrupted him.

He smiled approvingly, "Well done. You are quite right of
course." He took another sip of his drink. "A small amount
of pain adds piquancy to the mix and I use it to punish
minor infractions, but by and large, I find the threat of
leaving the estate to be a sufficient deterrent. You must
understand I want people around me who wish to serve me
because they yearn to, not because I may whip them or have
them whipped."

I grunted; it all seemed a bit far-fetched to me.

"Let me be plain. I get my jollies out of controlling the
sexuality of people. And I do my best to ensure that the
sorts of people that I control are the ones that get their
jollies out of being controlled. Now I am extremely lucky in
that I am rich enough to live my preferred lifestyle and by
so doing I give the opportunity for others to live their
lifestyle."

"So you're doing all this," I waved my arm expansively. "As
a sort of charity?"

He laughed, a great booming laugh. "I can see why Sofia
finds you so attractive." He brought himself under control.
"No, of course not, dear chap. I am selfishly exploiting the
people that work here on the estate. It's just that I try
and make sure that they want to be exploited by me - that
way everybody benefits. People apply for jobs here knowing
full-well what is expected of them and even then I get 20 or
30 applicants for even the most menial position." He thought
for a moment. "In fact I get more applicants for the menial
positions than I do for the managerial positions."

He finished his drink and poured himself another, topping
mine up in the process. "Now that brings me to Sofia's
parents. Sofia's mother, Salome, is my housekeeper and her
father Samuel, is my estate manager. Finding someone who is
both willing to be a slave to me, and who has sufficient
initiative to be good at these jobs was quite difficult.
Which is why I allowed myself to be convinced when Salome
became pregnant."

He sipped his drink once more. "You should be aware that I
don't normally prohibit sexual activity amongst my slaves,
as long as it doesn't interfere with their primary duties to
me. I'd long been aware of a growing attraction between
Samuel and Salome; so much so that I asked them if they
wished to be released from my service so that they could
pursue their lives together. They begged me not to send them
away so I allowed myself to be swayed. It had taken me years
to find these two and I wasn't going to be able to replace
them easily, if at all. So I allowed them to marry and then
came the bombshell that I had been dreading. Salome fell
pregnant. They swear that it was an accident, and I believe
them, that they didn't consciously decide to try for a
child, but subconsciously? Who can say?"

I shrugged; I doubted that he required an answer. He stared
into the fire for a while obviously lost in some memory.

"As soon as I knew that Salome was pregnant, I assumed that
they would be leaving." He glanced at me. "I don't keep
people here against their will; anyone is free to leave at
any time. However, if they leave without my consent they can
never come back. But it didn't come to that because they
were insistent that they were happy to stay and that they
would work something out once the baby arrived." He looked
directly at me and waited until he was sure that he had my
full attention. "Because I loved them both very much and
because replacing them would have been extremely difficult;
against my better judgement I let them stay. I would have
been pleased to give them a leave of absence - of several
years if necessary - and paid them a retainer, not that they
needed it. They were by then, very well-off on the basis of
accumulated salary alone."

To say his last statement surprised me would have been an
understatement of gargantuan proportions. Astonished would
have been a better word.

"You seem surprised that I talk of love, but ask yourself
how you feel when Sofia does something to please you. Not
necessarily sexual, but something that she does just for you
that she will get no direct pleasure from, other than the
knowledge that you will be pleased."

I sat back and considered his question. Jack, content that I
was thinking about what he had said, relaxed and sipped his
drink some more. After a while he glanced at his watch and
then continued to speak.

"I was present with Samuel at Sofia's birth, at their
request. It was the most beautiful thing I have witnessed. I
cried with them, both for their happiness and mine. At that
moment I vowed that I would do anything to ensure Sofia's
happiness. At first, having a small child was not a problem
and we were careful to ensure that she was shielded from our
more, ah, unusual activities. But it is difficult to prevent
an inquisitive child, especially one as intelligent as
Sofia, from finding out what she wants to find out. So bit
by bit she discovered that her parents were my slaves and
not long after she turned fourteen she came to me and
demanded to submit to me as my slave too."

He stood up stiffly and paced in front of the fire.

"This was not something that I welcomed. I thought of her as
my daughter, I still do. I told her I was flattered by her
offer - I was - but that she was too young, far too young.
She asked me if I didn't love her. I told her that I did
love her, but not that way. She asked me if I didn't find
her attractive; I told her that she was very attractive -
she was - but that she was still too young. Eventually she
pestered me to the point where I said that I might consider
it when she was sixteen and only then with her parents
consent." He smiled ruefully. "I know you've had experience
with her abilities to persuade you to do something for her -
believe me her ability to beg has nothing to do with
anything she may have learnt here."

He continued pacing. "I thought by insisting that she get
her parents' consent, I would have made it impossible for
her to fulfil my requirements -- which meant I could hold
out until she was eighteen. By then she would have left to
go to university, where she would meet someone more suitable
for her and she would forget about all of this." He chuckled
at the naivety he had shown. "Of course persuading her
parents was literally, child's play. So on the day of her
sixteenth birthday, I find them all kneeling naked in the
drawing room with Sofia begging me once more to make her my
slave. It was very trying I can tell you."

He stopped pacing and slumped back into his chair. "Slaves!
Love 'em or hate 'em; you can't live without 'em!"

I couldn't help it; I started to chuckle and soon I was
helpless with laughter. Jack joined in and pretty soon the
library was filled with the sounds of our hilarity.
Eventually we stopped laughing and just sat in companionable
silence as we tingled from the aftermath of excessive mirth.

"So now I had all three of them insisting that Sofia was
both suitable and available. I knew there was no way I could
treat her the same way as I treated her parents for
instance. And as for sex, it would have felt like incest.
I'm almost old enough to be her grandfather, for goodness'
sake!" He considered the backs of his hands as if seeing
them for the first time. "Apart from the obvious differences
in skin colour of course."

Despite myself, I was warming to him; he was not anything
like the way I had imagined him to be. I grinned in
appreciation of his good humour.

"So we agreed to compromise: I would accept Sofia as my
slave, but she would be trained by her mother and another
male slave. Her father was not to be involved. Her mother,
who would now be her mistress, would choose another male
slave she found acceptable. And this is pretty much how
things stand today. Sofia is the slave name that I gave her
when I accepted her as my slave. I oversaw her training and
she assures me that she has never been happier. Every time
she was allowed to visit me since she turned eighteen, she
has begged to surrender her virginity to me." He looked at
me significantly. "She hasn't done that at all since she met
you - so I am in your debt already."

He glanced at his watch again and came to a decision. "I
have some business to attend to. I'll leave you here for a
while; I imagine that you have a lot to think about. When
I've finished, I need to talk to you and Sofia together. If
you need anything, please ring and someone will attend to
your wants immediately - or I'll want to know the reason
why!" He grinned to show that he wasn't entirely serious in
his last words. As he left the library he turned to speak to
me again. "I said things weren't as bad as you believed them
to be, so bear that in mind when I tell you that we can work
something out; won't you old chap?"

The door closed behind him with a faint click and I was left
alone with my thoughts.

-Continued-

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