Synopsis: Amanda becomes the unwilling host for a pair of wealthy human Cuckoos.
Prologue: The Scene of The Crime
It was already dark and starting to rain when the police car turned into the long gravel drive at the edge of the village. The Inspector turned round quickly to see how his passenger was taking the journey. The pretty blonde was obviously nervous and WPC Julia Sanderson squeezed her hand in reassurance.
"Do I have to do this?" the young woman asked.
"It's essential", the Inspector said flatly. "If the story you've told me is true, Sir Peter must be confronted now. I need to see his reaction before he has time to concoct any spurious explanations."
"I… I suppose so", she agreed miserably.
They pulled up outside the stone portico that flanked the doorway to Sir Peter Killingworth's mansion. According to the long and somewhat confused account, which the witness had related in the police station it was here that she'd been held captive for nearly three years. And not just a captive, she had been a slave girl in all but name. It was a story that the tabloid newspapers would splash in banner headlines across their front pages if they caught a sniff of it. Imagine the consequences of a respectable aristocrat found to be abusing an innocent former employee - physically, mentally and sexually. It would be a sensation. And the criminal trial would be national news.
"Let's go inside", the Inspector said as he considered this prospect. "The sooner this is dealt with the sooner you can concentrate on getting back to normal."
The housekeeper who answered the door must have been the woman the victim had identified as Mrs Tibbs. She delivered a venomous look in the direction of the young blonde who seemed to cringe inwardly. The Inspector noted her reaction but said nothing. They marched up the stairs after their scowling guide and came to an oak study door where they were admitted to the presence of the owner of the house. Sir Peter Killingworth was a distinguished looking gentleman in his early fifties with receding black hair and a handlebar moustache. His eyes widened when he saw the two police officers and the blonde. For her part, the young woman seemed to shrink even further into misery and fear. The WPC had to keep a firm arm on her elbow to prevent her from bolting altogether.
"I'm sorry to trouble you sir", the Inspector said, "but we've had a very disturbing report. This young lady has made some serious allegations against you. Some very serious allegations indeed! I rather think we need to talk…"
Introduction: A meeting of old friends
Towards the end of March last year Richard Mann went to see an old friend Sir Peter Killingworth and his wife at their splendid manor house in the border country. His work had brought him back to the locality after some years spent in a northern city. Richard hadn't taken the time to visit the couple since the birth of their son James more than two years ago and he was in for something of a surprise. Sir Peter greeted his contemporary warmly and led him into a large drawing room, which overlooked the ornamental pond at the west end of the garden. Richard knew Sir Peter had made a great deal of money recently but he hadn't realised quite how wealthy his old friend had become.
"Vivian is out shopping in the village", Sir Peter said "but she'll be back in an hour or so. I'm afraid James is staying with his grandmother so you won't get to meet the son and heir. Shall we have a drink in the meantime?"
The guest agreed with the suggestion and a maid soon appeared with a decanter of port. That was Richard's first eye opener. The young woman was a gorgeous blonde in her mid twenties. She was wearing an outrageously provocative French maid's uniform which consisted of shiny black high heeled shoes, sheer black stockings and a tight black mini dress which revealed a generous slice of nylon clad thigh and barely covered her bottom. The dress was cut low at the front to display plenty of cleavage and although she was not spectacularly endowed her breasts were lifted and separated by the costume and were shown to good advantage. She poured a drink for the two men and then went to stand by his chair waiting for further instructions. Sir Peter must have noticed the way his friend's jaw had dropped at the appearance of this vision of erotic delight and Richard caught a twinkle in his eye as he smiled.
"What do you think? Not bad is she?"
The visitor was struck dumb by the casual sexist way in which his host spoke about the maid as though she wasn't even in the room.
"This is Amanda", Sir Peter continued, reaching out with the assurance of easy familiarity to grasp the maid's right thigh and run his hand up and down her leg. Richard noticed that she trembled slightly as he touched her but she made no move to pull away. She did blush a delightful shade of pink, however and turn her face to the floor at Sir Peter's next words.
"Amanda's nice to look at but she's not very bright, are you my dear? She tries hard but I'm afraid she isn't a very good maid. She makes a lot of mistakes and she has to be punished for them. Still, she has other uses. I let her entertain my John Todger from time to time and she's become quite skilful in that department with plenty of instruction and a little discipline."
Richard was so startled by this short speech that he didn't quite know how to react and so his next remark came out sounding as if it was the most natural thing in the world to discuss the bedding and disciplining of a housemaid. This was the twenty first century after all! Sir Peter sounded like he was some medieval baron not the director of a multinational finance house.
"What about Vivian?" Richard blurted out. It was all he could manage.
Sir Peter laughed.
"Oh Vivian doesn't mind", he said. "In fact she's been very helpful in training Amanda to meet my rather demanding requirements. You see Amanda has been very useful to her. That's why we acquired her in the first place but it's a long story. Would you like to hear it?"
The guest nodded silently. Sir Peter smiled again, obviously pleased.
"Good. Good. I think you'll find this all quite interesting and perhaps rather arousing as well depending upon your proclivities. May I suggest, since young Amanda will be the indirect cause of this arousal, that it is only reasonable she serve in some capacity to alleviate the symptoms she is inducing?"
Richard didn't understand this at first and must have looked blank.
"I'm offering to have Amanda apply her lips to your cock whilst we talk, dear boy!" Sir Peter said, as though explaining something obvious to an idiotic child. "I can assure you she's become quite skilful with her sweet little tongue and I'm sure you'd enjoy her ministrations."
Richard Mann glanced at the lovely young blonde and couldn't help but notice that she had wide and generous lips with a mouth that looked delightfully kissable and intriguingly useful for other even more intimate services perhaps. She was now blushing a very fetching shade of red and fidgeting uncomfortably, shifting from one foot to the other. It was fairly clear that she found the situation highly embarrassing but she had still said not the slightest word of complaint or shown any overt sign of resisting this casual treatment. He couldn't help himself. The maid was just too delicious. Although he had no real idea as yet what was going on, he had to see how far Amanda would go. This was only the beginning…
"Perhaps that would be a good idea", Richard ventured timidly.
"Capital", Sir Peter said. He pinched Amanda's bottom.
"On your knees girl and let's have you licking round the gentleman's balls pronto!"
With obvious reluctance the maid knelt submissively in front of her employer's guest. She turned her face momentarily upwards and her eyes went wide and round for a flicker of an instant. At that moment Richard was unsure whether she was pleading to be released from the task her master had set for her or mutely asking his permission to unzip his trousers. He chose to interpret it as the latter and spread his legs.
"You can let it out now", he said. "It won't bite you although it might spit at you!"
It was an old joke but Sir Peter seemed to enjoy it. The girl blushed and bent her head. Richard ran his fingers through her soft golden hair as her fingers fumbled with his zipper. He felt her feather like breath on his exposed rod as she hesitantly lent closer to the rapidly swelling organ. Her delicate touch made it stand erect and triumphant immediately. The sensation as she planted a first hesitant kiss at the base of his balls was indescribable.
"You'd better not make Mr. Mann come before he's ready or I'll have to cane you again!" Sir Peter warned his maid. She shivered noticeably and withdrew a little but soon returned to her sensitive task. And one more thing. Code Babel On."
Richard was puzzled. For a brief moment Amanda pulled back.
"Code Babel acknowledge", she said in a soft voice.
Then she bent back to continue her exquisitely delicate work and the way her hair fell over her face prevented him from seeing any further reaction she might have had to this statement.
"I'll explain it in more detail later", Sir Peter said. "For now though, you can take it from me that Amanda won't understand anything we say in front of her until I say the key words. In the mean time it will seem to her that we are talking in an unknown foreign language. It's all part of her conditioning, and a useful part when I want to discuss sensitive matters concerning her security."
"Now then", he continued. "Where shall I begin?"
Part One: An old problem and a new solution
"They say that money can't buy you happiness and I'd agree with that but it can certainly buy you convenience. Take my son James for instance. That's how this whole story starts. Vivian and I both wanted a child but there were the usual problems of modern life, which kept getting in the way. Vivian has a pretty high powered career these days."
Richard knew that much. Ms Greenway had retained her maiden name after the marriage. She was an advertising consultant with one of the more prominent agencies and she'd risen rapidly to reach the board before she was thirty, quite a remarkable achievement but one that was no doubt helped by her classical good looks. Vivian had a cascade of raven black hair and an aristocratic aquiline nose. Her long legs were perfectly turned and her trim body was firm but supple under the smart business suits she preferred. Richard had known Sir Peter before he first started seeing Vivian. He was nobody's fool. But Richard wondered if he'd met his match with Vivian in more ways than one. She was sharp and ruthless and knew exactly how to get what she wanted.
"You both have important jobs", Richard said. "It must have been awkward."
Sir Peter nodded amiably.
"Vivian didn't want to interrupt her career or her social life for nine months of increasing discomfort, which is how she saw pregnancy. I sympathised but there was no solution we could think of which would satisfy our requirements."
"Did you consider adopting?"
"Briefly. But I wanted a child that came from my own loins and Vivian had the same feelings about her own genetic input. We might never have got any further if it hadn't been for a curious dinner party conversation. I'd invited Edward Stebbings and his wife to stay over for the weekend. Do you remember him? Short portly sort of a chap. He was in the year above ours at school but I knew him through the cricket team."
Richard scratched his head trying to recall an old fellow pupil.
"Wasn't he the one who was nearly expelled over the mysterious drugs incident? I don't think we ever did learn everything that was going on there."
"That's Eddie Stebbings", Sir Peter confirmed. "But what you may not know is that he went on to become a doctor and now he's a respected Harley Street specialist - a gynaecologist in fact. He's married to Patricia. They met at medical school and she practices with him. She's a bit of a harpy to tell the truth - hard nosed and with sharp little features but they get on well and Eddie has ways of enjoying himself which I found out later. That Harley street practice is a very cosy set up.
Anyway, the subject of children must have come up in casual conversation and my wife mentioned our dilemma. That was when Eddie suggested we try surrogacy. Vivian wasn't very enthusiastic at first and to tell the truth, neither was I. But we hadn't understood the progress of medical science. The doctor explained to us that there was now no reason why a surrogate mother couldn't be implanted with the egg from another woman already fertilised in vitrio with the sperm from the father."
"So this so called 'mother' contributes no genetic material to the child?"
"That's right", Sir Peter confirmed. "In effect she's just a borrowed womb to carry out the business of bringing an alien baby to term. Very convenient and exactly what we were looking for except for one major problem."
"Well, you must have heard of all those court cases where a legally arranged surrogate mother takes it into her head to keep the child. There's been plenty of trouble in the States about this kind of thing. And sometimes judges revoke the original agreements. It's a messy legal area and who can tell what might happen when a woman's hormones get done over by the pregnancy? I didn't want to risk this kind of complication with its attendant publicity and said as much to Edward. Happily he had a solution for that problem too…"
He paused for a minute as his guest luxuriated in the oral attentions of the lovely blonde maid. Her tongue was so delightfully delicate that Richard knew he would have to spend himself down the back of her throat before long.
"Dr. Stebbings asked if either of us had any ethical objections to breaking some of the social rules which operate in conventional society. Naturally we said no."
Richard laughed. He'd helped Sir Peter to conceal a range of financial indiscretions in the past and he knew that his friend was a man of few qualms when it came to the exercise of power and privilege. Sir Peter thought that the law was for the bourgeois and that for the rich, morality was what you made of it. He was ultra right wing and such scruples as he seemed to possess struck Richard as part of a carefully calculated façade.
"The doctor explained that he was working on a treatment to 'pacify' recalcitrant patients and redirect their inner drives along lines suggested by their therapist. Vivian pointed out that this was rather out of his normal run of work as a gynaecologist to which his reply was that this research was something along the lines of a hobby, which he shared with Patricia. Apparently he'd been studying some modern drugs and their effects upon the brain. He'd started with analgesics and worked his way up to something quite strange and potentially very powerful. As I listened I grew more and more excited, sensing the prospect of a solution to our problem and a way to help the doctor and his wife in their research. So the four of us began to make our plans…"
"You'll have to excuse me," Richard interrupted at this point. "I'm rather excited myself!"
"Of course", Sir Peter chuckled.
Richard grasped Amanda by the hair and pulled her head up, bending down to pinch her nose. She squeaked like a frightened little mouse and her face flushed pink as her lips opened into a wide O to let her breath. It was obvious what the guest wanted and his exultant prick was soon enjoying the moist pressure of her mouth. She swallowed once in an involuntary reaction but fought valiantly to keep her throat open as the tip of Mr. Mann's cock pressed onto the top of her tonsils. He gave a little grunt of pleasure and unloaded inside her - thick wads of hot sticky come. He let his left hand cup the back of her neck, the thumb sliding round and forward above her Adam's apple. He didn't want her to choke so he released her nose but he did want her to swallow all his seed. A light pressure at the top of the windpipe was all it took to make her give a series of convulsive gulps in which his sperm was drawn deep into her stomach. When he let his cock slide out there was only a small sticky residue at the tip, which was smeared over her face before he allowed her to clean the last few drops with her tongue. The sight of his semen drying to a hard crust across her pretty cheeks as she worked was most engaging.
"Code Babel Off", Sir Peter said. "Fetch us another drink Amanda, there's a good girl."
She did as she was bidden then when the men were comfortable again Sir Peter told her to stand in the corner with her hands on her head and wait.
"Code Babel On", he said.
"Code Babel acknowledge", the girl replied. This time Richard was sure that he saw her eyes glaze briefly as she passed from understanding to non-comprehension.
"I sometimes have her pose like that for an hour or two when I've no other use for her", Sir Peter said. "She makes an interesting decoration don't you think? Now let's continue."
Part Two: Choosing A Host
"The idea was that Vivian and I would select a suitable surrogate mother and take charge of her using a special 'prescription' from the doctor. Once under our control the chosen young woman would be carefully extracted from society then moved into this house in preparation for the use of her womb. She'd be implanted and kept under close observation whilst the pregnancy took its course and after that…. After that we'd have a new baby without any of the usual fuss. We agreed to defer consideration of what we'd do with the baby's host mother once her principle use to us had come to an end. My masterstroke was to persuade Vivian that I should be allowed to take a much more active role in the plan than she had initially conceived. That's a fine unintentional pun!"
"What sort of a role?" Richard asked, although he could already guess the gist of it.
"Well, I put it like this. Since Vivian was being spared the pain and inconvenience of labour and since we would both have to take a different share of responsibilities to manage our piece of breeding stock it was only fair that I should receive some compensation for my own work. In short, I wanted Vivian's agreement that I could fuck our chosen acquisition whenever I wanted to."
"I can't see how she'd go along with that! And in any case, surely it would go against the point of having a woman to have your joint child. What if she got pregnant by you?"
"Reasonable points but I haven't explained the full situation properly yet. Dr. Stebbing's drugs would be laced with a component to suppress the subject's natural fertility. It was a necessary part of preparing her for implantation. So once she was under medication there was really no chance she'd become pregnant by natural means. The only way she'd carry a child was if it was implanted inside her. Then too, Eddie made much of the complementary techniques that should be used in conjunction with his chemicals to ensure her successful conditioning. They amounted to a controlled seduction, as I shall explain in a moment. Vivian wasn't happy with that part of it at first but the doctor explained that it really was essential to 'fix' obedience in the subject. So you see I knew that I'd be seeing a lot of the woman we selected and I might as well enjoy myself in the process. Vivian took some persuading but I assured her that I only had her own interests at heart. It wasn't as if I was taking a mistress for real. Whoever we chose would be a convenience only, and certainly no rival for my wife. Eventually I convinced her and we set about selecting our target.
At the outset we decided that the best plan was to trawl through our colleagues and consider them as potential candidates for the simple reason that our companies already had a store of useful information about them. I must say that some of the models on Vivian's books are quite delightful specimens of female pulchritude and looking through their portfolios was a mouth-watering experience! But there were practical problems that were easier to solve if we selected an employee from my own company. Although Vivian is an important player at her agency she doesn't have quite the level of power that I do within the finance house. Specifically she has no authority over human resources. Managing our target's abduction was going to be the key to the success of the enterprise. We discussed it long and hard and we knew it was the riskiest part of the operation and we should do everything possible to maximise our chances of a trouble free abstraction. My employees might not be chosen for their looks but there are over five hundred of them working in the London and Swindon offices and so there would be plenty to chose from.
Vivian and I spent a couple of weeks pouring over the personnel records looking for likely prospects. It was an exciting project, which seemed to stimulate my wife's libido in some rather perverse way and after we'd studied photographs and considered employment and personal history we often ended up making love in my office. In the end it came down to a short list of three.
There was Suzanne, a pretty little piece in the accounts department, Clare, a buxom blonde in human resources and Amanda who had a job on the help desk in the IT department. I made arrangements to see all three for myself, which wasn't as easy as it sounds, strangely enough! They were all at such low levels in the organisation it would have been out of the question for me to have any reason to talk to them personally. Instead I had to drop in on their bosses or their bosses' bosses, unannounced but after I'd ensured they would be there. All three were lovely young women and I would have been quite happy with any of them but I have to say that there was something about Amanda which made her my favourite. When I first saw her she was wearing a conservative enough outfit consisting of black low healed open toed sandals, flesh coloured tights and a knee length navy blue skirt with a shocking pink blouse. Her body may not be quite as spectacular as a model's but I think you'll agree that it's more than pleasant when it's entertaining your member. I noted her lovely legs, a tasty carcass with a trim young bottom and tits which were ordinary enough, but not without merit. I think it was her personality that really intrigued me though. She was outgoing and obviously very attractive but it hadn't spoilt her. I realised from a small amount of observation that she was happy to share a joke with anyone and her easygoing sense of humour had a diffident attentiveness which was highly appealing. I could easily see how she had broken the hearts of several of her colleagues without trying to or meaning to. She was gorgeous and the fact that she didn't obviously exploit it made her that much more personally attractive. At first she hadn't recognised me but in common with the rest of her department she became a little nervous when she realised who I was. That too was a pleasing quality, for although she did not realise it she had good cause to be afraid of me! I decided that I had to have her.
The first step was to get Amanda transferred onto my personal staff. I managed this on some pretext associated with the setting up of a special internal project, which would require her skills. It was all a lot of hand waving nonsense but you'll be surprised how easy it is to spout nonsense to subordinates and have them believe you when you have the power to do so. Anyway, it gave me the opportunity to interview the girl in person and enjoy a nice long look at those lovely legs as she crossed them in front of me. She was apprehensive as I questioned her about her working habits. Would she be prepared to put in extra hours after five o' clock when the job required it? I was testing her loyalty, deliberately leaning on her in an effort to see what I could get away with at this early stage and without the assistance of the doctor's treatment. It's a tough labour market out there! By presenting this as an opportunity but also with the not so subtly veiled threat that her career would be stalled completely if she failed to take the chance I had her boxed in. She capitulated very quickly and I felt a swelling in my trousers even at this simple non-sexual triumph, taking her surrender as a sign of how easily she could be manipulated and even dominated.
Once the girl had agreed to my employment proposals verbally, it was a simple matter to get her contract redrafted by the human resources department along lines which were much more suitable for the use my wife and I had in mind for her. The supposed promotion was a thinly disguised demotion on terms and conditions a good deal worse than she'd been working under. Simply because of the way it was presented Amanda would retain a short term threadbare delusion that the changes were in her favour. This couldn't stand much scrutiny, but then it didn't need to. By the time she realised she'd been browbeaten into something far less desirable than her current job it would be too late - she'd be in my power.
She signed the new contract next day and also agreed to a medical, which would be administered by a company appointed doctor. The doctor was to be Patricia Stebbings. She isn't our usual company doctor but Amanda wasn't to know that!"
Part Three: A medical examination
Amanda peeped round the corner of the door and then entered the surgery with hesitant little steps which betrayed her uncertainty. She'd never visited the doctor's room before. In fact she hadn't even realised that the company provided this level of medical support service for its staff. 'Most companies have a private health plan for their workers,' Sir Peter had explained to her. 'But we believe in a more personal approach. We have the resources to do it and we like to think our employees are looked after properly.'
"Ah Miss Jenkins. I've been expecting you. Please take a seat. This is just routine you know. Nothing to worry about."
Doctor Patricia Stebbings was a severe looking woman in her early forties. She was tall and angular and she wore her chestnut brown hair in a tight bun secured with tortoiseshell hairpins. Amanda ventured a nervous little social smile but the doctor ignored her having already turned to study her notes. The patient sat on the blue plastic seat in front of the desk. Her skirt rode just above her knees and she smoothed it down then ran her left hand through her hair. The doctor didn't even glance up for a full couple of minutes leaving Amanda to wait until a touch of anxiety had built up.
"I'd like to ask you a few questions about your general state of health" she began. In the interview which followed Patricia Stebbings quizzed Amanda very thoroughly. It was an opportunity to identify any problems which might prevent her from serving her employer and his wife in the intimate way they had in mind. At first the questions were straightforward enough but gradually Patricia began to move on to more private and personal subjects. Did she have a boyfriend? How often did they have sex? What type of contraception did they use? Amanda flushed and became increasingly embarrassed. The doctor had to be quite stern with her when it came to questions about her experiences with oral and anal sex. But in the end she told the older woman everything she wanted to know and the answers were most satisfactory. Subject to the physical and psychological tests to follow Patricia was happy that Amanda would make an excellent host.
"According to your records you haven't had a tetanus booster for five years. It's about time you had a repeat injection", Patricia said at last. She reached for a brown glass bottle and filled a small syringe.
"Oh. Yes. Right", Amanda said, relieved to be on more conventional medical grounds. Somehow the way the doctor spoke she almost made Amanda feel guilty for not keeping her inoculation up to date. But this was no ordinary inoculation.
"Take your jacket off and roll your sleeve up!", the doctor said with brusque efficiency. Amanda had no real opportunity to object even if she'd wanted to. There was a sharp little stinging pain as the needle was plunged into her bare left shoulder and the transparent fluid injected cleanly into her bloodstream.
"That takes care of that", the doctor said. "Now, I need to examine your eyes."
One corner of the room was screened from the rest by a thick black curtain running on a head high metal rail. Behind the curtain there was a small suite of optical instruments, a metal high chair and the standard eye chart. Amanda was ushered into the chair and a telescopic arm folded out in front of her. The lights were darkened and Patricia commenced the eye 'test'. This was the start of an important process, which if all went well, would eventually lead to Amanda's complete subjugation. Unbeknownst to the hapless young woman the lenses and illuminated screens were part of an elaborate mechanism to focus her mind on short subliminal messages, intermittently flashed across her field of view at a frequency higher than conscious perception.
'I need this job'
'It's good to obey'
'I must never offend my boss'
'My boss is always right'
'I'm scared to disobey my boss'
'I mustn't lose this job'
The drug, which was coursing through her system, helped to break down any resistance to these messages. After the doctor had put her through a variety of seemingly standard tests she shone a light into Amanda's eyes and was pleased to see that from the way her pupils dilated she was now ready for the next stage - a little test of obedience.
"I'd like to check your breasts for lumps now", she said. "It's a routine examination as a precaution to monitor for signs of cancer. Take your blouse and bra off please."
The patient complied and soon Ms Stebbings had the warm mass of Amanda's sensitive mammary tissue captured between her thin cold fingers. The blonde gave a little gasp of surprise at the contact and a shiver of involuntary reaction made her whole body momentarily more sensitive to the doctor's touch. Then she settled down like a skittish filly accepting the bite of the reins. Now the doctor began to systematically massage Amanda's breasts, establishing a rhythmic pattern of manipulation, which was too clinical to be exactly sexual, and yet which was somehow subtly stimulating. Each of her milk glands was lifted carefully in turn, softly squeezed and stretched to the edge of pain. Then the doctor slowly moved her grip upwards, pulling the flesh through alternately relaxing and tightening fingers until she reached the nipple which was treated to a final hard pinch before the breast was released. A little whimper of protest from the patient only made Ms Stebbings smile. She bent her head to Amanda's ear and began to whisper.
'Shhh. You're quite relaxed now. There's nothing to worry about. This is all routine. You're feeling calm - very calm and safe with me. In fact you like this don't you? It's very relaxing to be examined this way - very reassuring. Reassuring to let me take control. That's what you want, isn't it? Someone to take control so you don't have to worry. Yes that's what you want. And what you need.'
And as she continued with these soothing words Ms Stebbings reinforced the process begun with the injection and the subliminal messages, inducing a state of light hypnosis in which Amanda was rendered increasingly suggestible. After ten minutes of this it was time for something different.
"Take off your skirt and shoes please."
Amanda meekly complied and was soon down to her white cotton panties and flesh tone pantyhose. By now she was feeling light headed, confused and ready to take orders from any authoritative source. Even so, this examination had to proceed with an inner logic which could withstand her inevitable later confused recollections and doubts.
"I'm going to take your blood pressure and then I want to examine your heart rate. We need to see how fit you are so I'll be putting you through a little work out and then checking your heart rate again", Patricia said. A cloth collar was quickly fastened around the patient's wrist and her blood pressure recorded in the usual way. But now Amanda was led to a motorised treadmill in the corner of the office. A paired loop of metal steps set out of phase with one another could be made to rotate so that the patient was obliged to climb a logical ladder in order to stay in place. The action of stepping up on to the plates tested the muscles of the thighs, legs and buttocks and as an exercise machine it had one major advantage over a traditional rowing or cycling machine. The pace could be varied by an external operator enforcing a degree of control that was normally the province of the subject of the exercise.
Patricia switched off the main office lights leaving only a white heated spot light to focus on Amanda's excursions. Wearing only the thin nylon of her hosiery she made a most erotic sight. Her breasts bounced intriguingly as she fought to keep pace with the treadmill and soon a light sweat broke out on her forehead. Patricia increased the speed to make Amanda work harder. She knew that the exercise was helping to pump her drug all the faster through the young woman's bloodstream. The doctor let her work for ten minutes before she stopped the machine and led the heavily breathing girl over to an examination couch. It was time to reinforce all the conditioning by burning it into the girl's brain with something powerful - something like her own uncontrolled pleasure.
"Up you get and lie down please" she was ordered. Her blood pressure was taken again and as her heart rate began to slow and a gentle lethargy spread through her system, the doctor put her arm under the small of Amanda's back and urged her to raise her bottom. Her tights and panties were now eased down her hips to expose her loins. The patient was in a light daze and made no complaint.
"I need to test your response to a little light stimulation", the doctor explained as her fingers now opened up the flower of Amanda's sex making the young woman gasp in surprise.
"N… not there", she managed in a hoarse whisper.
"Now don't be childish", the doctor told her sternly. "This is an important medical examination. There's no need to get all squeamish like a silly school girl is there?"
"Oh. No. No."
It was hard to tell whether Amanda was agreeing or disagreeing but the assertive doctor took her soft voiced response for acquiescence. From the top pocket of her white coat she produced a wickedly curved and ribbed black plastic dildo. Amanda's eyes opened wide, her pupils dilated and her heart rate started accelerating again.
"This instrument will need moistening before we can begin", Patricia Stebbings said. "Open your mouth please and give it a good suck, there's a good girl."
When Amanda hesitated the doctor went so far as to pinch her nose, at which point the confused young blonde obligingly parted her lips and allowed the medical 'instrument' to be inserted over her tongue. The doctor smiled in grim satisfaction, her fingers returning to the patient's vagina and teasing the fleshy lips apart as she sought out her clitoris. This produced a squirm of the hips and a gurgle of protest that served only to help to lubricate the dildo.
"Now let's slip this inside you shall we?" the doctor said, removing the dildo from Amanda's mouth and easing it into her sex in one fluid motion.
"Hands down!" she ordered, raising her voice when the blonde made a half-hearted show of resistance. And Amanda was quick to comply, rendered docile and submissive by the drugs the doctor had given her and the cumulative effects of her hypnotic treatment under the eye inspection.
Patricia started to work the dildo in and out of the defenceless young woman, making Amanda gasp and wriggle. There was no doubt about her arousal. She'd been cunningly manipulated into an unavoidable sexual response.
"Quite a little goer aren't you?" the doctor said in a tone of light amusement and mockery that suddenly made Amanda feel thoroughly ashamed of herself. She blushed violently but was unable to prevent herself from responding powerfully to the black plastic tool that was probing her so intimately. Her fate as a freethinking young woman was now in the balance. If she surrendered to her desires her brain would be stamped with the patterns she'd been absorbing. Patterns which would start to transform her into a helpless thrall. For a few long seconds it was as if the naked blonde sensed these things and unconsciously fought against them. Then it was too late.
"Time to bring you off".
With a merciless and accurate technique, the doctor twisted the dildo deep into Amanda's body. The victim had no chance. She'd been clinically and coolly controlled and now she behaved with all the predictability of a medical appliance. She climaxed. Long and hard.
The first important stage in the subjugation of Miss Amanda Jenkins was complete.
Part Four: Breaking Her In
Amanda started reporting directly to me on the first Monday of July. I was pleased to see that she arrived smartly dressed in open toed sandals, sheer nude tights, a knee length grey skirt and a crisp white cotton blouse, looking every bit as delectable as she had when I'd selected her. She seemed nervous but that was to be expected. Beneath the normal currents of emotion running through the head of anyone in front of their ultimate boss, I knew, even if she didn't, that there were those other subconscious ideas introduced by Patricia Stebbings. They were going to help make her seduction easy. I could hardly wait to try her out.
I showed the girl to her new desk in the outer room of my office. There was the inevitable computer, networked to the management domain, a photo copier, a filing cabinet and a water cooler. They looked innocent enough but the water cooler and the computer were key components in my plans for Amanda. The former would be supplying a regular dose of 'medicine' for the pretty blonde whilst the later would be running some special programs of Dr. Stebbings devising.
"You'll be working as my P.A.", I told her. "I'll expect you to look after my diary and take notes at meetings. There'll be some typing and you can take my front line phone calls."
"Oh. Yes. Fine… I see."
Her face had fallen a bit though and I knew why. Amanda was an intelligent young woman and in her previous job she'd been accustomed to taking a more active client-facing role. This job wasn't going to have the same level of responsibility. It was already becoming apparent to her that, in a certain sense she'd been demoted.
"From time to time, there will be other occasional duties that go with the job. They may require rather more dedication. I have your medical report", I told her. "It all seems perfectly satisfactory so I don't think there'll be any problems in that department."
I gave her a wink and she blushed delightfully. I knew she wouldn't know what to make of this. Her confused and hasty exit from the medical room had left her with only hazy memories of the examination. She couldn't guess what I'd really need from her but maybe she now had some slight sense of it. That didn't matter. I was quite happy to stir up just a little anxiety about my possible predatory nature. It wouldn't help her when I closed in for the kill.
I set her to work on editing some spreadsheets. Basic stuff and well below her capabilities. But I wasn't employing her for her brains. In fact, I wanted her brain occupied with learning something different - learning how to please me.
Within the inner office, I set the monitoring program running in my system tray and activated a background task on Amanda's computer. In between the routine operations of her spreadsheet the machine would now be feeding her some special messages at frequencies too high for her conscious mind to observe.
'I need this job'
'It's good to obey'
'I must never offend my boss'
'My boss is always right'
'I'm scared to disobey my boss'
'I mustn't lose this job'
That would do to begin with. It was just simple reinforcement of the messages from the eye test. But later in the week there'd be other messages which would begin to inculcate a level of desire for me. It was going to be interesting to see how they worked…
I began my assisted seduction of the luscious blonde. It started with nothing more than a little light flirtation and some off colour jokes. I'd begun half a dozen successful affairs like this before I met Vivian and one or two afterwards if she did but know it. But all of these were with women of my own social rank - equals in the mating game and thoroughly modern women who relished the sport as much as I did. It had never occurred to me to pursue such a junior and much younger woman before. And in this case, a woman who didn't even particularly like me. That much was obvious from the beginning. Her laughter, which with her former colleagues had been spontaneous and good-natured, with me was a little forced and nervous. Nevertheless the subliminal words were having their effect.
'My boss is very attractive.'
'My boss is always right.'
'My boss would be a strong lover.'
'I should always do what my boss says.'
'My boss is much cleverer than me.'
'I'm lucky to work for my boss.'
The program installed on my computer was able to monitor Amanda's reactions to the messages in subtle ways which helped to refine their delivery. Her typing rate and her reactions to the overt but very obliquely related content of the explicit documents she was being given to work with provided the basic input. Psychometric monitoring algorithms evaluated the data and suggested changes. And over it all, the method took account of her fluid intake from the water cooler and the consequent level of drugs in her system.
It was all remarkably automatic. I needed to do little more than keep an eye on the system whilst Amanda was processed for me.
So I wasn't in the slightest bothered if Amanda didn't really like me because I knew that if everything worked as planned her true feelings were irrelevant. My superimposed ones would subvert them every time. Once her preparation was complete, I could have that splendid young body however I wanted it and there was nothing she'd be able to do about it! In fact, if I'm honest, I have to say that her disquiet rather amused me for it would make her conquest all the more enjoyable.
As it happened I had no immediate opportunity to consummate our relationship. I had a business to run after all, and much as Amanda's progress interested me it wasn't the only thing on my mind. There were problems with some of the exchange rate fluctuations in the far east derivatives market and the World Com business also had an effect on my holdings. So I was busy for a couple of weeks and left Amanda to the care of her computer. Vivian teased me about it.
"Haven't you bedded her yet? What's keeping you?"
"All in good time", I answered.
And at last the time came. And it was very good.
"We're going to a conference in Edinburgh", I told Amanda at the end of July. "It'll be a three day affair in the Grand Thistle Hotel off Princes Street. I'll need you to take notes and assist me with a short presentation. Can you clear you diary for the weekend?"
It was the sort of question to which 'Yes' was the only acceptable answer and by now I was confident enough in the conditioning to assume that unless there was anything exceptionally important stopping her, she'd feel obliged to agree to my plans. There obviously wasn't because she meekly confirmed that she could come with me.
"Oh one other thing Amanda", I said casually. "That's a nice skirt you're wearing but for this trip let's have you in something a bit shorter. Something that comes above the knee please. It's important for you to look your best so you don't let me down in front of the other delegates."
I smiled at her slightly embarrassed agreement.
The conference itself wasn't anything I was particularly interested in. Rather a dull academic junket on the subject of international regulation in large scale money transfers as I recall - and since there is hardly any international regulation of this sort I was surprised it would take three days to talk about it. I set Amanda to work on a little PowerPoint presentation for my laptop, the purpose of which was mainly to maintain the flow of subliminals entering her pretty head.
'I'm not very clever.'
'I'm not good at making decisions.'
'I need to listen to my boss.'
'It's better when my boss tells me what to do.'
'I need to obey my boss.'
'My boss is very attractive.'
'I'd like my boss to make love to me.'
There were plenty more in that vein but I won't bore you with them. You get the general idea. They were all designed to undermine her confidence in her own abilities and replace it with dependence on mine. There was nothing in there to reduce her nervous reaction to me, quite the contrary. The technique sought to transform the raw ingredients of her instinctive apprehension about a powerful new boss into something even stronger - an awed respect and timorous obedience. I backed this up with some casual displays of office power and despite my unsubtle flirting techniques which were really no more than a low level form of sexual harassment, I was mostly quite cold towards her. I didn't want any of the reassurances of familiarity to creep into our relationship.
By the time we caught the plane for Edinburgh the poor girl was in something of a state; anxious, unsure of herself and a little sexually threatened and stimulated by me at the same time. It was the perfect state of mind for me to operate on. Amanda was dressed in the fashion I'd suggested, high heeled sandals, sheer tan pantyhose and a tight black skirt with a hem line above the knee giving me plenty of opportunity to feast my eyes on her splendid legs. I longed to run my hands over them as she sat beside me on the plane but it was too soon for such forwardness. Not long though, I promised myself. This would be the trip where I'd unwrap that pretty package and sample the contents!
The stewardess plied us with wine. I found an opportunity to take the plastic cup when my P.A. had her attention elsewhere and made sure that Amanda's drink was topped up with her regular medicine plus something a little extra for this occasion - a light aphrodisiac which would start to juice her up.
Our luggage was sent on ahead to the Grand Thistle hotel and we arrived in perfect time for lunch. The conference program didn't start until next day so in theory we had an afternoon free to do some shopping or a bit of sight seeing. In practice I had some altogether different ideas for how we'd spend that afternoon.
Lunch was a very enjoyable occasion. The Grand Thistle dining room has an elegant pseudo Regency effect décor. Ostentatious and a little false perhaps but well done for all that and in conjunction with the smart and deferential waiters quite enough to overawe my young dining companion who was clearly unused to such formal splendour. We ate a light meal, accompanied by a good wine. I restricted myself to a single glass but I made sure Amanda's was topped up regularly so that she was a little tipsy when the desert course arrived. She'd managed to relax a bit whilst she was eating and I'd even got a genuine laugh or two out of her. I think it was relief at not having to sit quite so close to me in the confined space of the plane. She must have felt a little liberated and perhaps even imagined that she'd be able to handle events from now on. Perhaps this conference wasn't going to be as bad as she'd feared? As we sipped the last of our coffee I knew the time had come to take charge.
I reached out and clasped Amanda's hand. She turned her face to me, startled like a rabbit in the headlights.
"I suggest we retire to our room now", I said. "There'll be time for some bedroom gymnastics and a little siesta before dinner this evening."
She swallowed convulsively. My boldness had caught her off guard.
"Oh. Ermmm… Don't we have separate rooms?"
She was blushing a very bright shade of pink.
"I mean, I don't think. That is I didn't expect. Ermmm… Well I don't think we should, that's all", she finished lamely.
"Oh come on Amanda, don't be so coy all of a sudden! You've been giving me come hither looks all week. You must have known where this was leading, don't pretend you didn't!"
It was a piece of pure hypocrisy to project my own advances on to her. But I knew that I'd planted enough seeds of doubt and insecurity to set her wondering whether she really had been leading me on.
"What about my boyfriend? Steve wouldn't like it!"
She was casting desperately round for excuses now like a drowning sailor struggling to find some floating debris to keep her from going under the waves.
"What about your boyfriend?", I answered urbanely. "He isn't here is he so there's no need for him to find out. And besides, I dare say my wife wouldn't be best pleased if she found I was pleasuring you either. But Vivian's in London and what she doesn't know won't hurt her. This is between you and me Amanda. It's what we want to do."
This last part was a complete lie of course. I'd soon be telling Vivian all about this trip.
"I don't want to do anything!"
She was on the verge of tears but I couldn't put up with a petulant refusal like that.
"Now listen to me Amanda!", I said sharply.
That was almost a direct command and one which echoed an oft repeated demand from her course of subliminals. They'd had their effect. Her head came up, eyes unfocused, teeth biting her lower lip. She was a picture of confusion, nerves and expectancy.
"If there's one thing I can't stand in this world it's hypocrisy! Now, I'm going to ask you a simple question and I want an honest answer. No prevaricating. No evasions. Just tell me the truth.
Do you find me attractive?"
She was hesitating again but the subliminals had done their work and I'd cowed her into submission.
"Y… yes", she admitted at last in a low breathy voice.
"There", I said with complacent good humour. "That wasn't so hard was it? And it's nothing to be ashamed of. Lot's of young women look up to their older bosses. It's only natural for them to be a little bit in love with them."
"I… I don't know. I suppose so."
"Well even if you don't know, I do. And you can take it from me that it's perfectly normal for a pretty young P.A. to have lustful thoughts about her older superior. Perfectly normal. It's just that not all of them are lucky enough to have bosses who are understanding enough to grant them a bit of treatment for their naughty urges.
So you see, you're really a very lucky girl because I don't mind taking care of your needs. Come with me now!"
I took her by the hand and led her from the table, noting with amusement the envious and lecherous expression on the face of the waiter as I settled our bill. In the lift I stole my first kiss. Her reluctance gave way to trembling tentative acceptance and the sweet warmth of her body in my arms excited me. I watched her as she walked ahead of me down the corridor, admiring the play of her buttocks beneath her tight skirt. Soon, I'd have her exactly where I wanted her.
I unlocked the door on a spacious bedroom with a large double bed and a mirrored ceiling. There was a plush en-suite bathroom complete with a Jacuzzi. Complementary Champaign was cooling in an ice bucket in the corner. A bit tacky maybe but I like to travel in style.
I sat on the edge of the bed.
"Take your clothes off, Amanda."
I was more assertive and more confident of being obeyed. She'd effectively surrendered and all that was left was to claim my reward.
The blouse came first - a hesitant unbuttoning, slow but inevitable. Then the skirt, swiftly unzipped and pooled at her feet. She fumbled with the straps of her sandals.
"Good girl", I crooned, patronising and encouraging as her tights were peeled off to leave only her white cotton underwear. I found her reluctant strip tease quite endearing.
"W… what about p… protection?" she stuttered.
"No need to worry about that. I've had a vasectomy so there'll be no need for a condom to spoil our enjoyment when I'm plugging you."
This wasn't strictly true. I'd never had a vasectomy but the wench wouldn't get pregnant from this encounter because of the contraceptive side effects of her 'medicine'. I knew from the doctor's report that she was free from any STDs. The blonde was a respectable young woman with only one sexual partner. Until now…
"Come on! Lets have all your clothes off Amanda. Bra and panties as well!"
The girl complied and at long last stood naked before me.
This was my first proper look at Amanda's nude figure, a sight I had been eager to see ever since my wife and I had selected her to carry our child. I wasn't disappointed. The blonde was a top quality piece of anatomy and would doubtless host a cuckoo pregnancy as easily as any of the natural ones evolution had designed her for, but which she would now most likely never deliver. Her legs were her best feature - long and lean and very sexy. Her loins were covered by a neat fuzz of hair which proved she was a natural blonde. Her bottom was a heart shaped treat behind a well-slung pair of hips. Her breasts were small but adequate and capped with neat little pink nipples. The doctor's report was all well and good but it was reassuring to see our prospective surrogate mother looking so healthy in the flesh.
"Close your eyes Amanda! And stand still whilst I inspect you."
I'd taken over completely by now and she was finding it simpler just to follow my instructions without questioning them. I reached out and stroked her flank, letting my hand wander up to cup a trembling breast. The nipple stiffened under my thumb. Her submission was arousing her as I knew it would.
I'd kept a small digital camera in my hand luggage and now I slipped it out of my jacket pocket and took a series of photographs of the naked girl. They'd be a nice record for me but I had another use for them as well. At the right time and with the right preparation I'd send them to Steve. It would help to turn her boyfriend into an ex-boyfriend if he knew Amanda's body had been providing pleasure to others.
I had a sudden inspiration, something that wasn't part of the original plan but which came as an impulse. I went to stand behind her where I could fondle both breasts comfortably and bend my mouth to her ear.
"Let's play a little game Amanda", I whispered. "Something to excite you for me. I want you to imagine you're a slave girl being brought before the Sultan in some medieval kingdom in the sand. You're a Christian captive taken in a European raid. He's considering whether you'll make a worthwhile addition to his harem. He's asking you to use your fingers to prepare yourself for him. And you want to impress him because the alternative is hard labour in the stone quarries. Can you do that? Can you bring yourself the pleasure that he wants to take? Can you prove your sensuality is worthy of the Sultan's attention? Then do it now! Do it for me!"
This little clichéd fantasy of historical dominance and submission turned out to be a master stroke. Behind the conventional erotic scenario were unspoken elements of the truth and that was why it worked so well. I was allowing Amanda's subconscious to explore a parallel role to the one I had planned for her in the real world. It would help to acclimatise her to the process of her own modern version of enslavement.
I had to guide her hand down to her loins but once I'd eased her fingers between her labia there was no stopping her!
"Keep your eyes shut", I instructed her. "It is forbidden to look at the Sultan without permission!"
I returned to my place sitting on the bed in front of her and undressed quickly as she worked her body for me. What a sight that was! The blonde's little brown nipples were now hard nubs of swollen sensitivity. Her right hand had moved unbidden to her right breast and was massaging it gently whilst her left hand sank in and out of her increasingly hot and moistening sex. Her hips began to gyrate in slow unconscious circles and her knees trembled. Her breathing was harsh and shallow. There was no doubt about it. She was now ready and eager to be fucked.
I took a few more photographs before placing the camera in the draw at the side of the bed and preparing to enjoy the girl.
"Fingers out and hands behind your back!" I ordered, stopping her before she had chance to orgasm. "You can open your eyes."
I sat in front of her, legs parted and my rampant prick pointing at the ceiling. I may not have the world's most impressive tackle but it isn't bad and I knew that to my pretty P.A. in the state she was in it would be irresistible. Her wide blue eyes were indeed fixated on my gently pulsing organ like a rabbit in front of a snake.
"Now slave", I said. "Keep your hands behind your back but come here and show me if that sheath between your legs can accommodate your Sultan's sword!"
I used my hands round her hips to guide her into position. She gave a little gasp as she sank on to me and then my rod was buried to the hilt in her tunnel of sweet wet girl flesh. I was in ecstasy. Amanda was every bit as succulent as I had imagined she would be. The muscles of her tight young sex treated my member to the most luxurious pressure. She bounced on my lap and I squeezed her to me, nearly suffocating her with a passionate kiss, which she returned in full measure.
And at that moment, I came, shooting wads of hot sticky seed inside her and provoking a matching response as Amanda quaked and moaned with the force of her own climax. It was all very satisfactory.
After that, the conference proceeded in a very agreeable manner. In the day time, I attended some frankly rather boring seminars enlivened by Amanda's short skirts and long legs which drew admiring looks from my fellow delegates. In the evenings I played with my new blonde toy, making full use of the hotel facilities, the shower, the Jacuzzi and the big double bed to help me enjoy her supple young flesh. I was patient with her. There were liberties I wished to take with that luscious body that she wasn't ready for yet. But that was OK. There'd be time to accustom her to my more demanding requirements later. For now, I was content to revel in the success of the basic seduction and to reinforce my dominance over her in slow stages.
"Do you love me Peter?" Amanda asked as we lay together on the last night. I found the use of my first name rather an annoying intimacy. It was a form of address that I would eventually have to train her not to use. But for now I had to accept the fiction of our conventional relationship as married man and mistress. "Of course I do Amanda" I lied. "Of course I do!"
On the plane flying back to London, my P.A. was subdued and pensive. I knew she'd be wondering how our relationship was going to develop. I knew she was now more than a little in love with me. She looked very fetching in a dark navy blue mini skirt and demure flesh coloured nylons. And this time she accepted some casual discrete fondling from me although she was plainly embarrassed about the prospect that anyone might see it. I'd made a very good beginning with her but there was still a long way to go.
Part Five: Career development
Back in the capital I let things cool off a bit. There was nothing especially technical about this, it was just a basic seduction technique. I didn't want Amanda to take anything for granted, including my interest in her. A little uncertainty now would keep her off guard and me firmly in the driving seat. So I pretty much pretended that nothing had happened for the next five days.
Amanda was on edge. At first I think she was almost relieved that I wasn't crowding her. But then I think she became a little anxious at my callous lack of attention. She began setting her stall out to interest me. It was nothing obvious, just slightly shorter skirts and sexier shoes. She was always dressed smartly though - nothing trashy or vulgar. Amanda had the kind of body which didn't need provocative clothing to emphasise its attractions. She was stunning enough in sheer tan tights, simple grey skirts and plain white blouses.
I let her have her head, feigning indifference like a fisherman playing a fish. Her freedom was illusory. I would soon be reeling her in again on my own terms. And all the time I continued the conditioning through her computer.
'My boss is very attractive.'
'My boss is always right.'
'I love my boss.'
'I should always do what my boss says.'
'My boss is much cleverer than me.'
'I'm lucky to work for my boss.'
'I need to please my boss.'
I called her into the office on Tuesday to begin another strand of my plans to improve her.
"Your medical report has been returned to me", I told her. "It says you need to loose a little weight, so I've had the dietician draw up a plan for you. And I've booked you into the company gym for regular lunchtime sessions."
She looked slightly taken aback.
"Oh, I mean, well… Is that right, do you think?"
"It's not what I think, it's what the doctor thinks", I said flatly. She never even thought to question the medical ethics of having a report on her health sent to me and not to her. It was a company medical after all. And by now she really was starting to assume I knew best…
"Well I suppose so then."
I wasn't asking her about these things, I was telling her. These was nothing wrong with Amanda's body but I wanted to do everything to ensure she was a healthy little mammal when she was carrying my heir! A little gym work would improve her muscle tone and do no harm to her ability to pleasure me. And the reality of a strict diet with the physical exercise would also further build a desirable pattern of obedience, which I could exploit more fully as her conditioning developed.
When I judged that the time was ripe for a little more fun with the girl I increased the dose of her 'medicine' in the water cooler. On Friday morning and just after twelve o'clock I walked into the outer office.
"Would you like to go to lunch dear?" I asked her. "I won't take no for an answer!"
"Oh. Ermmm.. OK then."
"It's Friday after all. I think we can relax a little, don't you?"
I took her by the hand as she gathered her coat and led her through the open floor to the lift. She tried to pull away a little, conscious of the image we must have made walking hand in hand. When I kissed her whilst we were waiting for the lift I could sense her reluctant desire warring with her propriety.
"What if someone sees?"
"But, what if your wife found out?"
I shrugged. I wasn't about to tell her that my wife already knew. I took her to a nice little Italian restaurant at the back of Gilroy street and wined and dined her. These were still early days in the seduction process and I felt it safer to observe the outward forms at this stage, despite my secret advantage. So Amanda had oysters and Chablis whilst I indulged in something a little more substantial, with my eyes on the main course when we were finished with our meal - Amanda's delectable young body!
"What are you working on at the moment Amanda?"
"I'm collating data for the loans and aggregations report."
"Hmmm. Well, that is important but I'm sure you can stay late to finish it tonight eh? So with that said there's no reason why we can't have a little break now. Let's take a room in the Lodge and we can get down to some Friday afternoon rumpy pumpy eh?"
Amanda blushed a very fetching bright shade of embarrassed red at my candid words.
"Umm… I don't know Peter. Ummm… I mean what I was thinking of saying was that. I mean."
She gulped. I looked concerned but offered no help. I'd expected something like this and I had absolutely no intention of letting her get away with it.
"I mean, I don't think we should see each other anymore. You've got your wife and I've got my boyfriend and…"
"O come on Amanda!", I chided her. "Don't be ridiculous! You want me don't you?"
She blushed again.
"Well, don't you? Be honest! I've told you before that I can't stand hypocrisy."
I knew that she did of course. The drugs and the hypnosis were seeing to that.
"Y… yes, I guess so."
"You enjoyed our affair in Scotland, didn't you? In fact I think you need me again. And I've got the time for you this afternoon. So that's that. There's really no need to make things complicated is there? Now come on."
Riding roughshod over Amanda's tentative attempt to pull away from me was as simple as that! My direct statements swiftly brought her into line. Already, it was so much easier for her to stop thinking for herself and follow my own thoughts and instructions.
So I took great pleasure from a torrid hour and a half in a hotel room with the girl, having her strip down and riding her to several mind shattering orgasms. I also took the opportunity to develop Amanda's sexual repertoire. In Scotland I'd confined myself to straightforward sex of the conventional kind, made only that bit more risqué by a little play acting in the Sultan and slave girl game. But now I wanted to feel her lips closing round my cock. Her mouth was wide and generous and seemed perfectly designed to provide a man with oral services. Nevertheless she showed a curious reluctance when I suggested that she might apply her tongue to my rod. In the end I had to insist.
It was a delightful experience and one I had every intention of repeating. The blonde would obviously need considerable training before she'd be able to deep throat me properly and I didn't succeed in getting her to swallow my seed but that would happen, I had no doubt!
We got some knowing looks when we returned to the office late in the afternoon. I was blasé but Amanda was acutely conscious of the stares of the other staff. I made sure she stayed late to make up her hours. I really did need the report and it emphasised the fact that she was still my employee and couldn't neglect her duties just because we were having an 'affair'. Well, an 'affair' might be how she still chose to think of it!
"It's like training a horse", Dr Stebbings had said. "You have to accustom the filly to just a little more each time. Slow and gradual is the way to do it, but don't tolerate any backsliding. Eventually she'll be broken to whatever you want to do with her."
The next stage in the taming of Amanda would make my life altogether more convenient. I planned to accustom her to accepting sex in the office. It might not seem like a major advance but it would involve the breaking of some significant taboos and I'd already seem how shy Amanda could be about certain things. This diffidence occasionally manifested itself as a short show of reluctant defiance but so far it had never been strong enough to overcome my authority. Step by step I was assuming more and more control over her body and mind.
I decided to involve my wife in a little game to help me tease our lovely blonde target. It was only fair. Vivian was itching to see the girl we'd chosen to bear our child and so far I'd had all the fun. So we arranged that she would call round at precisely ten past five on a Tuesday afternoon. I was beginning to really appreciate the beauty of Dr Stebbings system. It saved so much time on unnecessary foreplay. He'd gone so far as to integrate the arousal cycle into Outlook scheduling so that I could set up a special appointment for Amanda and virtually guarantee that my lovely blonde employee would be nicely hot and bothered at my convenience. This was the first time I'd tried to exercise such a precise degree of control. I set her cooking on a low heat after lunch, the program governed by the primary control pattern and responding dynamically to feedback from her computer.
'I'm feeling sexy.'
'I'm thinking about my boss again.'
'I'm remembering how he fucked me.'
'I want it again.'
'I need it again.'
She'd simmered in a stew of these subliminals all afternoon whilst we worked. At ten to five I made a final check of the monitoring window on my computer and walked into the outer office to take direct charge of Amanda. She was certainly ready for it!
The blonde gave a delightful and involuntary little giggle when she saw me. Then she flushed bright pink with embarrassment and turned her face quickly away, realising with a frisson of shame just how much she'd revealed of her inner turmoil. It must have been very vexing for the poor girl. Here she was, a beautiful young woman with a mature and educated mind reduced to this unsophisticated schoolgirl simpering. What could she be thinking of? If only she'd known exactly how exposed she was! Her mind was stripped nearly as bare for me as her body had been four days ago.
"Have you finished the Hendrickson proposals?" I asked her.
"Ummm… no. Not quite yet. They'll be ready tomorrow", she stuttered.
"They'd better be", I said with a frown, knowing exactly why her concentration had lapsed enough to prevent her from completing the job this afternoon.
"Well can I at least have a copy of the Highgate prospectus?"
"Oh, yes of course!", she said, anxious to please and standing up with alacrity.
I liked the look of her. Amanda was wearing knee length black soft leather boots, a grey skirt with a small split at the side to reveal flesh coloured tights and a wine red blouse. She fussed around in pretty disorder for a few seconds as she located the document I'd asked for and took it to the photocopier.
Such was the state of her confusion that the papers fluttered to the floor when she tried to feed them into the hopper.
"Are you alright Amanda?" I asked disingenuously. "Is anything the matter?"
"Yes! I'm fine!" she warbled anxiously, her protestation unconvincing as her sexy bottom gave a nervous frustrated twitch and she bent to retrieve the papers.
"Are you sure?" I said, coming up behind her and making her catch her breath. That was enough of a signal. I moved in closer and took control.
"Not here! No! Not there! Please! Oh! Please…"
Her softly spoken words of protest accompanied the intimate exploration of my left hand as I ran it up her thigh and over her loins.
"Not here, not there. You don't seem to know what you want at all do you Amanda?" I mocked her gently, knowing full well her anxiety that we would be discovered and her natural disinclination to let me play with her in public despite the liberties I had already taken in private. That didn't matter now. The conditioning had progressed far enough to suppress any serious resistance to my advances. And she really needed this now.
I slipped my fingers under the elastic waistband of her tights probing her panties and finally pushing underneath so that they had direct contact with her hot little snatch. She wriggled at that and her breathing sharpened into a shallow little rhythm but she was hooked like a fish on the line.
I masturbated her over the photocopier, stroking and rubbing her hot little nubbin as she squirmed under me making little mewling noises of helpless arousal.
There was a knock on the door. It was Vivian. Right on cue!
"I'll be with you in a moment," I called. "I'm just finishing something off."
The look of shock on Amanda's face was priceless!
"Hurry up Amanda!" I hissed in her ear. "I can't keep my wife waiting!"
I wriggled my fingers more forcefully inside her honey pot with feigned impatience and felt my prick harden fiercely as she gasped at the new stimulation. Then taking the swollen bud of her clitoris again I squeezed it between thumb and forefinger. The helpless blonde bit back a squeal and bucked violently with an overwhelming orgasm before subsiding in a daze. I'd had no relief myself and it was difficult to restrain myself from fucking her then and there but I steeled myself to remember my long-term strategy for the girl.
"Pull yourself together Amanda!", I commanded. "You don't want Vivian to see you in that state do you?"
I let my wife into the office. Vivian had dressed smartly for the occasion. It was, after all, the first time she had come face to face with the girl who would be carrying our child. I suspected my wife was at least a tiny bit jealous of Amanda, however needless that jealousy was. Certainly she was out to intimidate the young woman who still imagined herself as my secret mistress.
I was impressed. In dark stockings and a sophisticated suit from some Milan fashion house, Vivian exuded culture, wealth, confidence and a sexy sultriness. Meanwhile Amanda was struggling to straighten her tights and skirt, her face flushed bright red with guilt, embarrassment and fading desire. I think you could have toasted bread on the heat radiating from her cheeks!
"I don't believe you've met Miss Jenkins, have you?", I said to my wife.
"No", she answered coolly. "But I've heard a lot about you. I hope you're not finding my husband too much to cope with dear? He can be very demanding!"
Amanda gave a sappy smile and simpered out some inane reply. I think if Vivian hadn't already known exactly what she'd interrupted, the blonde's behaviour would have given it away. The poor girl was really floundering!
Vivian came over and gave me an ostentatious and very provocative kiss.
"Well, I guess that's enough work for me for one day", I said at last as we relaxed our clinch. "Vivian and I are going to the theatre tonight. I do want that Hendrickson proposal complete by tomorrow, so it's best if you stay and finish it tonight Amanda."
"Y… yes, yes of course."
Amanda's expression was a mixture of relief that 'we' seemed to have avoided discovery coupled with a dose of resentment at my casual assumption of control over her 'free time' and more than a twinge of envy about the evening my wife would be enjoying with me. Too bad! I was teaching Amanda a valuable lesson about the nature of our relationship and reminding her that she was not my wife.
As soon as the lift doors closed, Vivian kissed me again.
"She's lovely darling! I think the silly little flibberty gibbet's going to be perfect for us! Good wide child bearing hips and nothing much in her head to interfere with our purpose!"
That last remark was rather unfair. Amanda was by no means stupid. On the contrary she was an intelligent and well-educated young woman who simply happened to have the misfortune to be subjected to Dr. Stebbings technique, which seemed powerful enough to overcome any rational resistance. But I let Vivian's comment pass. If she wanted to think of Amanda as some sort of brainless bimbo then so be it.
"Is that blonde honey juice on your fingers?", my wife asked playfully. I lifted them to her face where she made a show of sniffing and then sensuously licking them clean. There was no way we were going to the theatre tonight! Instead I took Vivian home for an energetic bout of lovemaking charged with the excitement of the developing plans for our delicious young victim!
After that I began to fuck Amanda on a regular basis, both in and out of the office. The expensive dining and posh hotel rooms became an increasingly rare luxury, though, as I gradually conditioned the nervous but compliant blonde to accept more "on site" extra curricula activities. Under my close direction, her body was soon assuming a variety of delightful positions round the office, each one suitable for entertaining my cock inside it. She remained fearful of discovery the whole time but it did nothing to lessen her obedience. And her oral sex techniques did improve under my close tuition.
This program of frequent intercourse was exactly as Dr. Stebbings had prescribed and he explained to me that it served two purposes.
The first purpose was to act as nature intended and develop the girl's emotional association to me, in the same basic way that all mammals build their relationships. The key difference between the normal working out of the mating game and what I was trying to achieve with Amanda was that there would be no mutuality in our bond. The drugs and hypnosis helped to make Amanda increasingly needy and dependent - addicted to the sex. For my part, the doctor advised that I would help to retain my own psychological independence by ensuring that I maintained simultaneous sexual relationships with other women. So I stuck to a routine of intimate physical congress with my wife and my mistress. I'd been conducting a little affair with Janice, my petite strawberry blonde director of HR, long before Vivian and I had embarked on our unusual plan to birth a baby. If I hadn't the energy to give Janice quite the same attention, I made time for her when my schedule allowed. It was enjoyable but exhausting and it worked in allowing me the necessary distance to consider Amanda's case dispassionately, no matter how pleasant she was to fuck.
The second purpose in treating Amanda to regular sex was an obvious extension of the first. Amanda was to be made increasingly aware of the one-way nature of our relationship. She had needs but I only had desires and the satisfying of her needs was entirely at my own discretion. This would undermine her confidence. So the way our couplings worked was that they happened only when I arranged and allowed them. I made it clear from the outset that when Amanda sought to engage my interest or initiate any sexual activity I was always too busy. But when I wanted sex I was not to be gainsaid and she would learn to oblige me and enjoy it - whenever and wherever she was.
I made an interesting observation during this period. Strangely enough it seemed that Amanda was most aware of her plight at the times when I might have expected it least. In the throws of passion it was as if some subconscious system in her brain suddenly wondered what she was doing with a man thirty years her senior, and a man she didn't even like. As her over stimulated young body bucked beneath me, I often noticed a fleeting look of bewilderment flash across her passion wracked features. She would bite her lips and wriggle with a fascinating mixture of eagerness and squeamish reluctance when I chose to have her straddle me. And beneath the thin glow of perspiration and rich pink of arousal I detected an intriguing hint of comprehension and of fear. Then she would climax. And in the strength of her orgasm any dawning enlightenment would be swept away, leaving her that little bit dumber next time. Climax by climax I was washing her mind clean of all suspicion and resistance.
Part Six: Disciplined and Isolated
One rainy Wednesday afternoon I was alone in the office with Amanda and reading a report she'd typed for me concerning the Malafron corporation holdings. It was due to go out to our stockholders by the end of the week. In the middle of a rather tedious paragraph of figures, there was an unexpurgated piece of sexual fantasy, describing her shattering orgasm as I'd ridden her in the stock cupboard last week. I was shocked! But not too shocked. After all, it had been done at the behest of her subliminal instructions. Still, it made interesting reading and gave me an insight into the way her mind was working. Confused but powerfully charged with sexual addiction I'd say.
"Come here Amanda! What is the meaning of this?"
I watched a beetroot red blush cross her face as she read it.
"You know I really should have you dismissed ", I said in as stern a tone as I could manage. "What do think would have happened if any of our clients had ever seen this nonsense?"
"Oh. Yes. I… I don't know how it happened. I'm so sorry. Really I am!"
Amanda looked completely crushed as she shifted from foot to foot and struggled to avoid my gaze. I had to fight not to smile at her obvious discomfort. She was truly ashamed of behaviour she couldn't understand and was now at a distinct disadvantage. It was time to press my own advantage to take things to the next stage.
"I'm not sure if you really understand the responsibilities of your position", I continued. "This is an important job and I have to trust you to behave properly. I can't have your mind wandering into that stickly little slit between your legs when you should be concentrating on your work."
"N.. no, no, of course not!"
"What am I going to do with you?"
She couldn't look me in the eye.
"You know what I think", I said. "I think you need a spanking for this."
She gave a twitch of shock and looked quickly up before biting her lip and looking at the ground again.
"Does you boyfriend not take you over his knee when you've been naughty?"
"Pity", I said coldly. "I'm sure it would do you the world of good. Help you to realise the trouble your thoughtlessness can cause for other people. Still, if you're selfish enough to stand proud of the medicine you deserve, I guess I will have to lose you."
"W… what do you mean?", she said quietly.
"I mean that, you either accept some just physical chastisement or you're fired."
"Oh no. I love this job. I need this job. Please!"
It was highly amusing to hear her parrot back the phrases, which were being planted into her pretty head by Dr. Stebbings techniques.
"Hmmm..", I said, feigning disbelief. "And I thought you liked me from the way you've been behaving."
She blushed again. "Oh I do, I do!"
"Then what's it to be?"
Amanda was in a complete quandary - oddly stimulated, uncertain, hesitant and a little fearful. I knew that she was wondering if this was some kind of game, along the lines of the Sultan and slave girl scenario we'd played before. But the distinction between fantasy and reality was now blurring strangely. Her mind was in a delicate state of confusion, ready to be broken and remoulded into a form which would suit my purposes! This was no game. I was deadly serious.
"Come here Amanda!" I commanded. She did as she was bidden, looking more like a frightened schoolgirl than the PA of a company chairman. I was inwardly exultant. My lovely victim was going to submit!
"Now bend over my knee. And hurry up, I haven't got all day!" She swallowed nervously.
"Oh and take your shoes off", I instructed, on a sudden whim.
She crouched to the floor and unbuckled her strappy sandals, not even questioning why I'd told her to do it, but just grateful, I think for a chance to prologue the moment before she had to drape herself across my lap. The shoes were placed on the desk where I eyed them thoughtfully for a moment, but soon enough I had a more pressing matter to consider. The luscious little blonde had complied with my orders and was properly positioned for her first spanking!
I ran my left hand up the back of Amanda's legs, savouring the feel of the warm skin beneath the nylon mesh of her flesh-coloured tights. Although many of the pleasures of the girl's body were now familiar ones, the anticipation of the cruel treatment I was about to administer to it lent a new and dark dimension to the prospect of my later enjoyment. I felt a thrill of power over her, sensing a slight trembling and the shallowness of her breathing. The girl's skirt was soon pushed up over her hips to expose her bottom and I had time for a leisurely inspection of my target. I'd never contemplated her rump with quite the same concentration before and I was reminded afresh what a splendidly upholstered rear end she possessed - not fat but pleasingly plump and expansive and positively inviting a damn good thrashing. I had yet to bugger my blonde trainee but I promised myself that I'd remedy that omission in the very near future! Her buttocks clenched in an involuntary muscular contraction as I let my hand roam over them, enjoying a good feel of the pliant flesh. I had a clear view of her pretty white panties through the nylon tights and determined that my purposes would be better served if they were wedged more tightly into the crack of her arse before I began. So I ran my index finger firmly into the valley of her buttocks and accompanied only by a tiny mewl of protest, squashed the cotton away from the rounded curves that would soon receive my more painful attentions!
"Now Amanda", I said in my most patronising voice. "Before I begin, I want you to be absolutely clear why this is happening. You've been wantonly careless in your duties and you could have caused me a great deal of embarrassment. You know that don't you?"
"Y… Yes sir"
"And you know that I could have you dismissed for your offences? And then where would you be? So I'm doing you a big favour by not making this a formal disciplinary matter. I hope you're grateful. Do you want me to deal with this now? Ask me nicely!"
"Y… yes sir. Please sir. Please spank me sir… Please"
Her voice was soft and muffled coming from beneath the falling tresses of her blonde hair, but it sounded sincere enough.
"Very well, then Amanda. Prepare to be properly punished!"
After the gentle fondling which had softened her up, the first blow came as a shock, hard and fast and accompanied by a satisfying crack of flesh on flesh. I followed it up immediately with the second before she had time to draw breath, a broad stoke square on the meaty ripeness which swelled up so invitingly above her thighs. A soft sob came from below which I ignored, pausing only to observe the effect of my hand print emerging as a distinct pink pattern through the nylon of her tights. This also allowed her buttocks to relax slightly, which only made them more vulnerable to my third blow, catching her slightly off guard as it did and landing a little further up. And so the spanking continued, a set of carefully timed strokes that soon had her thoroughly warmed up with a hot little bottom that must have stung smartly. Amanda kept up an irregular low whimpering, just short of crying and squirmed rather delightfully in my lap. I must confess that my cock was soon hardening under the pressure of her body. I'd have to quench it inside her before I was finished!
When I finally stopped to catch my breath she'd received a full twenty or more strokes. She made a wriggling move to get up but I stopped her with a firm hand in the small of her back.
"Not yet Amanda. I haven't finished with you my girl!"
It was now that I picked up one of the shoes she'd placed on the table. It was the left one of a sexy pair of sandals with thin black plastic straps across the toes and looping round the heel. The three-inch stiletto heel was tipped with a silver metal cubical heel. I flexed the sole, testing its resilience. Perfect! The shoe would make an excellent instrument to continue Amanda's correction and relieve my aching arm. I noticed that her panties had worked their way out of the cleft in her bottom. Once again, the shoe would be useful. This time, I pressed the heel between her buttocks, working it up until her glowing bottom cheeks were fully exposed again, protected only by the thin nylon of her tights. She moaned softly, sensing that her ordeal was by no means over and the worst was yet to come. And she was right. For now I laid into her with a will, wielding the shoe with renewed energy and turning her flesh from pink to a bright fiery red!
It was time for a very important test. For the last week, the conditioning had been adding some new ingredients into Amanda's brain. If all had gone as planned, then despite the pain of this thrashing, she would also find herself perversely aroused and ready for a thorough fucking. The fingers of my left hand slipped under the waistband of her tights. She gasped as I probed under her panties. She was hot and damp! The latest stage of the program had worked!
"Well, well Amanda", I said dryly. "Looks like you need a stuffing my girl!"
I pulled her onto the floor and yanked down her tights and panties. Her eyes were wide and she spread her legs without asking. For a moment I contemplated ignoring the invitation and trying out her freshly punished arse instead. I'd been tempted to bugger the girl ever since I'd first seem that pretty bottom of hers naked, and I promised myself that I'd plumb its depths before too long. But perhaps today wasn't the day for it. She'd had enough new experiences for now so I'd pace myself and take the opportunity to plunder that hole on another occasion. In the mean time a good hard ride inside her made the girl whimper as she felt anew the sensitive skin of her buttocks rubbed firmly back and forth over the carpet by my thrusts. She gasped and gurgled her way through the delightfully mixed pleasure and pain, climaxing just when I did.
Later, as I watched my P.A. restore panties, tights, skirt and shoes in a flurry of confusion and strange embarrassment I reflected on what a great success this little episode had been. Amanda had been more thoroughly and completely dominated than ever before and now that I had introduced her to corporal punishment I had little doubt that it would be easy to do so again. A taste of fear had been added to our relationship which would confuse her but aid me in my growing control over her.
I wondered what the girl's boyfriend would make of it when he saw her abused rump! I suspected that Amanda would go to some lengths to avoid revealing it to him, which was no bad thing.
The strident tones of a mobile phone interrupted Sir Peter Killingworth in the middle of his account and brought Richard Mann back to the present. He'd been so absorbed in the story of Amanda's seduction and abuse that he'd lost track of the time. Now glancing at his watch he noticed that it was nearly half past eleven. The pretty maid was still standing patiently in the corner with her hands on her head, and if Sir Peter was to be believed she'd understood nothing of their talk since she'd been put under the Code Babel protocol. With half an ear, Richard heard Sir Peter chatting with his wife - some inconsequential chitchat about a necklace Vivian had purchased at a fashionably rustic artisan's shop in the village. He gazed out of the window admiring the play of sunlight on the spreading parkland which stretched up to a sombre beach woodland on the ridge and fell away below the pond on the south side to a small lake screened from the road by hornbeam and oak trees.
When Sir Peter ended the call he noted the direction of his guests gaze.
"Lovely, isn't it? I'll tell you what. I was thinking we'd have a spot of lunch at 1 o'clock, so that gives us time to take a tour of the grounds first. We can take Amanda with us. She needs exercising!"
Richard readily agreed to this plan.
"Code Babel off", Sir Peter said to his maid. "Follow us Amanda. We're going to the kennels first."
An expression of mingled anxiety and distress crossed fleetingly over the blonde's face before she lowered her eyes meekly. Richard was intrigued. He didn't have to wait long to find out why Amanda was so apprehensive. The businessman and his friend descended the sweeping steps of the main hall and went down a narrow passageway to emerge via a metal door into to a small paved compound. Amanda followed three steps behind, her hands still on her head because she hadn't been given instructions otherwise. At the back of the enclosure, a row of four cages held three enormous black Doberman pinchers. They growled menacingly but didn't bark. Amanda seemed to shrink under their single-minded stare.
"Good boys", Sir Peter said cheerfully. On a hook by the door there was a wide leather collar which the aristocrat now tightened round the trembling blonde's neck. He fastened a long leash to the metal ring at the back then patted her complacently on the bottom.
"On your knees now bitch. Time for walkies!"
The fearful but compliant blonde was soon on all fours, her short dress tightening round her rump and riding up sufficiently to reveal to Mr. Mann that her bottom was bare. Sir Peter reached down and slipped a finger under her left suspender, pulling it up to straighten the stocking then letting it snap back against the girl's thigh. Amanda gave a little squeak but kept her head lowered. Now Sir Peter opened the first cage. A muscular bundle of fur, claws and teeth emerged to greet him, jumping with a dangerous energy.
"Down Tyson!", Sir Peter laughed. It took longer to control the dog than it had done to prepare Amanda but at length the two animals were similarly collared and leashed. Growler and Bounder followed and then the party set out, leaving the kennels through a gate that led onto the main gravel driveway. The sharp little stones must have made Amanda's crawl over to the lawn a painful experience but she continued on her hands and knees struggling to keep up with the fast pace set by Sir Peter. The dogs seemed to regard her as one of their own but a lowly member of the pack who must be kept in line. She was corralled between them as they strained at their leads, rushing ahead and then running back. They seemed to take it in turns to supervise her, menacing the poor blonde with warning growls and even administering occasional little nips where her thigh was bare above the stockings. It was easier when they reached the grass but before they got to the lake Amanda was sobbing softly but audibly.
"She's well trained", Richard said.
"Oh yes", Sir Peter smiled. "Amanda's come a long way since that first spanking."
He bent down to pick up a stick and in the same motion unclipped Amanda's leash.
The stick went tumbling through the air and to Richard's amusement the blonde was soon scurrying after it, keeping to all fours in conformance with her role. She bent to pick it up in her mouth and returned to her master with the stick between her teeth. Sir Peter laughed and ruffled her long hair to show his approval.
"Good girl. Now this one!"
For the next fifteen minutes as the men walked round the grounds, Amanda was treated exactly like the dogs. She was expected to follow the men everywhere and was sent to fetch a succession of sticks thrown more or less casually by Sir Peter. For the most part the blonde seemed anxious to please and chased the sticks down as quickly as she could, though her energy did diminish as the walk progressed. She only hesitated once, when the length of spinning wood came to earth in the middle of a clump of fierce looking nettles and brambles. But even there she eventually summoned up the will to plunge into the undergrowth, emerging after a minute in a thoroughly dishevelled state with burs in her hair, and the clear signs of scratches and stings across her arms and unprotected cleavage.
The only comment Sir Peter made as she returned to him was one of mock outrage.
"The bitch has laddered her stockings. I've warned her about that before. She really must be more careful. I shall have to punish her later."
As far as Richard could see there was no way that the unfortunate girl could have fetched that last stick without some tearing and tangling, so her employers attitude seemed grossly unfair at the very least. Richard wondered exactly how Amanda felt about her situation and he studied her closely looking for some sign of resentment or resistance. In the face of all this casual mistreatment it seemed incredible that the hapless blonde could fail to respond without a degree of bitterness. Yet there was absolutely no sign of any such reaction. On the contrary, Amanda displayed only the outward evidence of a nervous anxiety to please and some considerable distress that she had failed to do so. She appeared not only to accept her guilt but to be actively ashamed. The poor girl was clearly subject to some very effective form of mental conditioning. And Richard had to admit that he found the sight of the lovely blonde in her torn maid's uniform, crawling so humbly before them, highly erotic.
The party proceeded to the top of the lawn where a wooden bench under the shade of the woods behind, overlooked the manor house. Sir Peter tethered all his animals to a hitching post and then he was ready to resume his tale…
Now where were we? Ah yes. I'd reached the point of Amanda's first spanking. It certainly marked an important change in our relationship and set the right tone for things to come. I felt I'd made it quite clear who was the boss and that there was to be no notion of equality between us. And I must admit I'd enjoyed it too! It was tempting to find other pretexts to spank her, but I knew I had to exercise just a little more patience. The girl was jumpy enough and it was better to menace her with unspoken threats, cultivating an atmosphere of control through consent. In time I knew she would accept my full rights to punish her ripe young bottom whenever I wanted.
I took a trip to London in late July and arranged to have a drink with Dr. Stebbings so that we could discuss Amanda's case. We met in a small West End pub just off the Kensington high street. The doctor was accompanied by his receptionist, an attractive brunette in her early thirties whom he introduced as Carol and immediately dispatched to the bar to buy our beers. The wench was a pretty little piece of baggage, shorter than Amanda and nicely packaged in a crisp white blouse, a tight black mini skirt, sheer black stockings and shiny black heels. As she stood before the bar the whole pub had a good view of her legs which were pleasingly full, even verging on the plump but without crossing the line into excessive fat. Her breasts were well rounded but not overly large - firm, well separated and beautifully articulated. They'd make a pleasing handful for any man. I had no doubt that the doctor would have wasted little time in taking control over Carol in the same way he had was teaching me to control Amanda. The receptionist had almost certainly been transformed into a rather delightful plaything for her clever boss.
"You've made good progress so far", the doctor said when I'd given him a detailed account of my work with Amanda to date. "Now it's time to separate your host from her boyfriend. In the same way that you need your sexual freedom with multiple partners, she must be reduced to one. It's also part of the process of isolating her from society. If she's going to spend nine months bringing your baby to term then you'll need her under your full authority and totally cut off from friends and family."
I could see the sense in the doctor's advice. Already, I found myself irritated by Amanda's outside commitments. I'd gone a long way in assuming rights over her body and her time but the remaining limits were still tiresome. I wanted her accessible at weekends and on any evening. The boyfriend would have to go.
"How do you suggest I achieve that?", I asked.
"Do you have details about the boyfriend's name, address and occupation? She's not living with him is she?"
I confirmed that Amanda lived alone and was able to supply the doctor with the information he required.
"Well then", he said. "There are two ways you can go about this, the direct and the indirect approach. I suggest you try the direct method first."
I spoke to Amanda first thing on the following Monday.
"I've been thinking Amanda. Our current relationship is awkward isn't it? There is so much more we could do if you had more freedom."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that our other commitments are inconvenient. I have a busy life and I can't spare much time for you. Then when I do have a spare weekend and you could be enjoying my company, you aren't available because of your boyfriend."
"Now obviously I can't leave my wife. I have too much to lose. The natural solution is for you to stop seeing Steve."
"Oh. Well, no. I mean, I can't do that."
"Can't or won't?", I said coldly.
"But I love him! I mean we're going to get married and everything!"
She was on the point of tears.
"Yes, but you're not married yet, are you? And that makes a lot of difference."
"I don't see how", she said, sullen now and pouting in a way that was really rather fetching.
"You're such a silly girl sometimes aren't you?", I said with a smile which added a barb to my words rather than taking the sting from them. Amanda looked hurt and blushed in that bright pink shade I had come to associate with her powerful physiological response to shame and embarrassment.
'Silly girl' was a key phrase which had been increasing in frequency within the current selection of conditioning messages. Her subconscious recognised and acknowledged it, even as her conscious mind tried to reject it. She bit her lip and I bent over to give her a long lingering kiss. At first she pulled away but when I took her chin in my hand and bent her face firmly towards my own her inadequate resistance quickly crumbled and her tentative response soon became an ardent and passionate one.
"You can't tell me you don't like that can you?", I said softly when we were finished.
"No", she said softly.
"Well then, you'd better do as I say hadn't you? That's if you want us to continue. You see if I can't have you when I want you I may have to abandon you altogether."
"W… what do you mean?"
She looked alarmed now and well she might! I shrugged.
"It's just that you're not the only young woman who wants to spend their time with me. And others might be more accommodating. Something for you to consider perhaps before you refuse me, eh?"
I glanced ostentatiously at my watch.
"Now how about a quick fuck before lunch? Let's have those tights and panties off pronto Amanda! I've got an important meeting in half an hour so I haven't got time to waste."
She fumbled anxiously with her clothing as I watched in amusement, aroused this time, almost as much by the alacrity and unthinking obedience of her response as by the lean curves of her pretty little body. I bent her over the desk and entered her with a grunt of satisfaction. I knew I'd given her plenty to think about! How would she respond?
Within two days I decided to start on the doctor's indirect approach. Amanda was showing an unhealthy resistance to my demands. Her boyfriend was an anchor, aiding her in keeping some form of independence from my rightful influence. Despite all the pressures of her conditioning regime she sensed this subconsciously and stubbornly ignored my demands. When questioned she was evasive and vague. I didn't press it. Another way would have to be found.
I rang Dr. Stebbings to confirm our plan and Carol was given her instructions. An interesting little play of events was about to unfold.
Unfortunately I am unable to furnish you with the complete and intimate details of the process by which Amanda was finally separated from Steve because I was only peripherally involved myself. I left the whole thing to Dr. Stebbings and his sexy minion. All I can tell you is that after a mere three weeks Carol and her controller had achieved the desired result! The lucky lad was made the target of a carefully planned seduction and enjoyed several healthy bouts of rumpy pumpy with the doctor's luscious receptionist. These were designed to wean him away from Amanda's charms and confuse him about where his loyalties lay. Carol persuaded Steve to take an "eye test" at her bosses office and once there the game became much easier. He was subtly prepared for a shock and some subliminal ideas were planted suggesting what he ought to do about it.
Carol delivered the shock at the moment when the doctor judged best. She showed him some of my photos of his girlfriend in very compromising positions. In short order Amanda was dumped by her horrified partner, happy in the knowledge that his own sexual interests were being well looked after. Judging by the outburst of tears which I witnessed next day it must have been a traumatic scene for my blonde P.A. Apparently the hypocritical lad had accused her of being an unfaithful slut and refused to have anything more to do with her! It was the perfect outcome.
I took the sobbing girl in my arms, stroking her hair and trying hard not to smile. Everything was going to plan. From now on I knew that Amanda would be almost totally dependent on my good will. Success was very close. It wouldn't be long now before this hot little piece of stuffing could be put to the proper use my wife and I required!
Part Seven: Relocation
After lunch I must show you the technical wing of the manor house. I have a high speed networked computer room, dedicated satellite links and various other bits and pieces of telecoms equipment including a video conferencing room. Most of this equipment was installed and configured during the same summer that I was working so hard on Amanda.
I like to think of myself as a progressive boss. Certainly I've never been afraid of technology. It's my belief that home working is the way of the future and I've pioneered the experiment in my own company. Now I wouldn't want to give you the impression that I had all this work done simply because of the plans Vivian and I were making for Amanda. I see my technical wing as a much longer-term investment. But it is true that there was a convenient synergy between the active commissioning of the manor house home office suite and the next stage of development for our lovely surrogate mother to be.
I put it to Amanda when she was at her most vulnerable.
"I need you to relocate", I told her. "I'll be working from home on a regular basis from now on and its inconvenient to have my P.A. based in the office. You'll have to move. That way you can be on call 24/7. There's no problem with accommodation. My housekeeper, Mrs Tibbs will make you up a room in the manor house. In the current property market I expect that you'll be able to sell your own flat very quickly. Why don't you get started on the arrangements? I've a free day a week on Friday so we'll get you settled in then shall we?"
It is a true testament to the progress of Dr. Stebbing's program that Amanda did no more than swallow nervously and stutter some easily quashed objections as I rode roughshod over her residual independence with my outrageously cavalier demands. And by a week on Friday, I was driving my pretty P.A. safely into captivity… She didn't know it, of course, but once I'd got Amanda to the manor house she wouldn't be leaving again. Ever. With her ex boyfriend happily fucking Carol she had no one to worry about her absence; nobody, indeed, who knew where she'd gone. And there was so much more that could be done to her in the comfort and security of my own home.
But as the car wound through the county lanes my luscious blonde catch suspected nothing. Hours of subliminal conditioning and regular doses of drugs in her water had completely suppressed any suspicions and all of the appropriate worries. Which didn't mean that she wasn't left with a few inappropriate worries, the main one of which centred around my wife. She was mortally afraid that Vivian might find out what we'd been up to.
"I think we shouldn't... You know. Not in your house."
Her evasive circumlocutions amused me. She was too shy even after all our intimate explorations together to come out with the direct words.
"Shouldn't what?" I teased her, knowing full well what she meant.
"Shouldn't carry on the way we are. Shouldn't…"
"Shouldn't fuck, you mean? Nonsense!" I insisted. "There's nothing to stop us from continuing our special exercises. We'll just have to be more careful that's all. There's no reason why Vivian needs to find out anything if we take reasonable precautions and act discretely."
But I could tell Amanda was still doubtful.
"Now what about your flat", I asked, forcefully changing the subject.
"It's with the agent you recommended", she said meekly. I knew that of course. I'd left noting to chance, keeping a very close eye on these last arrangements that Amanda would be making as a free woman.
"Good. Good", I said absently, letting my hand trail down to stroke her knee.
When we came in sight of the manor house my pretty P.A. let out a gasp of surprise. You must admit (and I hope I'm not boosting) it's an impressive pile of stones.
Mrs. Tibbs was waiting for us in the porch way. My housekeeper is an absolute treasure. I've yet to introduce you to her, so perhaps a little description is in order. She's in her early fifties, rather short and stout with iron grey hair she usually wears pinned back in a severe little bun. She has a naturally ruddy complexion and a thin lined face which seldom sees a smile, but she's very efficient and stands no nonsense from tradesmen and estate workers under her supervision. As she shook hands with my P.A. giving her a rather brusque 'good afternoon', I fear Amanda was a little intimidated by the older woman, although in theory her own job was of considerably higher status. I wasn't surprised. Sometimes I'm even a little intimidated by Mrs. Tibbs myself! Fortunately she's one of the 'old school' who believes in the absolute right of her employers to do as they see fit in all matters. And she's the soul of discretion. My wife and I had spent some time hesitating over whether we should involve Mrs. Tibbs with our unconventional plans for Amanda but in the end we had ventured to chance discussing the situation with her. It was a delicate and subtle negotiation, exploring her attitude without revealing too much until it was safe to do so. But Mrs Tibbs had no qualms about our little scheme and was quite happy to help us.
"Here's your security key miss", she said to Amanda, passing the blonde a magnetic swipe card. "We all have one here at the manor house. It controls access to all the rooms. Don't lose it!"
I showed Amanda to her room. It was a light and spacious apartment overlooking the back lawn. You can see the window from here if I point it out. That's the one, the third from the left on the second floor.
My P.A. didn't have much in her suitcases. I'd supervised her packing - just a few of my favourite clothes and some of her personal effects. I'd told her that the rest would be going into storage whilst she was living with me. Actually most of her possessions went straight down to the rubbish tip, but I managed to get a decent price on a couple of choice items of furniture from a 2nd hand dealer. Every little helped to recoup the costs of the operation!
It was quite touching to witness the care with which she arranged her few ornaments, trying to make the alien room seem like home. But I was soon impatient with her.
"There'll be time for this later", I said. "Now how about a proper introduction to the manor house, eh?"
I kissed her firmly and guided her to the bed. To my surprise the girl put up a considerable degree of resistance, which I quickly realised was in no way feigned. This was her natural shyness coming to the fore again in a strange location. Appealing in its way. I remembered how long it had taken for her to accept a fucking in the office. And although this was ostensibly a more private location she was acutely conscious that it was my wife's home as well as mine. She really was embarrassed all over again and afraid of being discovered. But when I used the key subliminal words her resistance crumbled in the end as I'd known it would. Dr. Stebbings techniques had established some very firm hooks inside her mind!
"Come on Amanda, let's have these shoes and stockings off…"
I found Amanda's first fuck in captivity a very satisfying experience. Although I was now familiar with the pleasures of her flesh it did not lessen my enjoyment of the nubile young blonde who was now so compliant and increasingly well educated in the techniques and positions I liked her to adopt. She needed little in the way of explicit instructions now. A tap on the bottom or a sharp pinch on one of her nipples was sufficient to inform the girl of the actions I wanted from her. Hours of gym work and a strict diet had improved her physique from a good baseline. She was now a very fit young woman with a splendid figure, athletic but emphatically feminine and sexy.
Amanda was on the cusp of some important changes. She still thought of herself as an independent agent with a choice about her career decisions and a free life ahead of her. Probably she imagined that she'd meet some new man soon - that she'd get engaged and married - that this job and our relationship was only a temporary affair. Certainly she had no idea of the path my wife and I had laid out for her!
But as I rode her bucking hips, I knew differently. From this moment onwards she would be available to me 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Her conditioning would be accelerated and I could have her whenever I wanted her. The days of her freedom were at an end. Very soon now, she'd be learning some facts that wouldn't sit well inside that pretty head of hers. But it wouldn't matter. She would do as she was told whether she liked it or not because her own hopes and dreams were no longer of any account. And with that thought I gave a grunt of mingled pleasure and triumph and came inside my luscious little over excited victim, long and hard.
My wife had been spending a week at her office in Paris and didn't return to the manor house until Saturday morning, So on Saturday night we had a formal dinner party to welcome Amanda to our household. This was Vivian's first opportunity to meet the girl, face to face on our own territory. Because it was a formal occasion, smart evening dress was the order of the day. My wife wore a dark red velvet bodice with a wasp waist and a matching knee length skirt, split at the side to reveal a hint of thigh, sheathed in opaque black stockings. Shiny black court shoes lifted her heel and helped to define the line of her long legs. The slopes of her ample milk white breasts were prominently displayed above the daring décolleté of the bodice and a simple ruby on a silver chain adorned her deep cleavage. Her long raven black hair was braided into an intricate bun and the few wispy wayward locks that traced curving lines down her elegant neck were free by artifice rather than by accident. Vivian was no doubt reminding me why I'd married her, and very effectively too. She certainly looked gorgeous; elegant, sophisticated and very sexy. The ruby was a subtle reminder that she was independently wealthy as well because it was jewellery she'd owned before we were married.
Amanda was dressed rather more simply in a short-sleeved black silk cocktail dress decorated with a silver trim. It was cut just below the knee so that her lightly tanned bare legs and high-heeled open toed sandals were displayed beneath.
It was quite delightful to dine with two such beautiful women, harbouring the knowledge that I had bedded them both and that they both knew it. Surely any man who had succeeded in moving his mistress into the same household as his wife would have felt something of the same frisson of satisfaction and potential I felt that evening. And yet Amanda was not my mistress. She was simultaneously so much less and so much more than that…
"I trust my husband has been looking after you properly", Vivian asked Amanda.
"O yes… yes he has", the younger woman said, blushing deeply. From her awkward almost stuttering reply I think my wife might have guessed there was something between us even if she hadn't already known. Amanda wasn't very good at concealing her feelings! But Vivian only gave her a bland smile.
"I hope you won't find it dull here. There isn't much to do on your own in this house and Peter needs you to be on call all day. But I expect he'll keep you busy so you won't have much time to be bored. I've heard he's a bit of a slave driver."
Amanda gave a nervous little laugh.
"Oh I'm sure I'll be fine."
Vivian's raised eyebrow was an eloquent comment on that remark. I was enjoying the opening of a little game of social fencing between two rather mismatched opponents! Over the first course of fish and steamed potatoes, my wife's conversation was sharp and probing in places and her quick witted teasing often caught Amanda at a loss. Under other circumstances my P.A. would have responded more effectively to Vivian's little jibes, because she was not unintelligent, but she had been brought up to be polite to her hosts and she was new to the manor house and heavily conditioned by Dr. Stebbings treatment. So Vivian made mincemeat of her.
"I think you'd better not have any pudding", I told her when Mrs. Tibbs brought in the dessert course, consisting of treacle tart and ice cream.
"Amanda's on a diet", I 'explained' to my wife. "She needs to watch her figure."
"My commiserations. I can see your problem dear. Some girls do find it hard to keep in shape", Vivian offered. "Fortunately, it's never been an issue for me!"
Amanda just blushed again, unable to defend herself against a comment verging on the rude. She waited patiently as we ate our sweet.
"May I be excused from the table?" she asked diffidently at the end of the meal. I was very pleased by this spontaneous deference. She sounded like a child. The habit of asking my permission for the most trivial independent acts, a habit which I'd so carefully instilled over the last few weeks at work, was now carrying over naturally into her so called 'private' life.
"Yes, I think you've had enough", I told her. "Off you go then."
We both watched her retire to her room with hungry eyes.
"What do you think?" I asked my wife. Vivian smiled.
"I'm impressed darling. You seem to have little miss rent-a-womb well under control. I can hardly wait to get the bitch started on growing our child…"
"Is anything the matter Amanda?", I asked innocently. We were sitting in the west wing upper office, my P.A. taking notes as I dictated my thoughts on some relatively minor matter of company organisation. It was the Monday morning following Amanda's installation into the manor house and we were beginning to establish a new working routine.
Amanda straightened in her seat and mumbled something inaudible. She was wearing a smart navy blue suit, a white blouse, sheer white stockings and shiny black high heels. The matching navy skirt was short enough to allow me a generous look at the tops of her thighs. For the past hour or so, she'd been fidgeting on her seat, febrile little motions of increasing agitation as the morning progressed. Periodically she crossed, uncrossed and re crossed her legs, affording me very pleasant glimpses of the insides of her thighs. In between times she began to squirm uncomfortably.
"Speak up!", I ordered.
"I… I need to go to the bathroom…"
I paused, as though considering her request. I knew exactly why she was making it! I was playing a little practical joke on my P.A.
Dr. Stebbings had provided me with a series of instructions for the next stages of Amanda's enslavement, upon completion of which she would finally be ready for the use my wife and I had in mind.
"The girl must be kept in a near constant state of arousal so that her consciousness is distracted and unable to mount any resistance to the conditioning ", he'd said. "The drugs will do much of the work but try to ensure that she receives regular stimulation. It doesn't particularly matter if she's allowed to climax or not but long periods of low level sexual tension should be the order of the day!"
Now that Amanda was safely installed in my house it was easy to make some special arrangements in this regard. Mrs Tibbs was looking after Amanda's laundry and on my direction she had made sure that after her panties had been washed they were liberally sprinkled with a fine white itching powder that would transfer itself onto her skin. The poor girl was now feeling the full effects.
"P… P… Please!" she begged.
"Oh very well but hurry up!"
I admired Amanda's succulent arse as she tottered out of the room. It looked very tasty sheathed in what was really an exceptionally tight skirt. The lines of her beautifully shaped buttocks were clearly delineated against the taut cotton, which all but hobbled her. She was obliged to take a succession of tiny tripping steps, flexing the globes of her bottom urgently against the limits of its fabric prison. The poor girl must be desperate for relief from the incessant itching, which was maddening her sweet little honey pot. But that wasn't the cunning part. The cunning part was the way that this approach meshed with a fresh dose of subliminal messages.
I had a new way of administering the constant feed of messages that were required by Dr. Stebbings technique. Her bedroom contained concealed cameras, microphones and speakers. In the night and particularly during phases of REM sleep the speakers whispered incessant statements which would worm their way inside her unconscious mind. And over the weekend the messages were these:-
'I am obsessed with my boss.'
'I need to have sex with my boss.'
'I must have sex with him.'
'I mustn't let his wife find out!'
'I have to do what my boss says.'
'I must have sex with him!'
'I mustn't let his wife find out!'
The combination of the chemical itching induced by my powder and the new dose of emphatic messages were meant to work together to confuse her. With any luck she'd imagine that her dreadfully irritated loins were her own fault - a consequence of her overwhelming desire for me. I had little doubt that she'd be fingering herself now to try to get some relief, but once my powder had worked its way into the skin the only real way to sooth it was with a special antidote I kept in an ointment jar in my pocket. I'm such a bastard when I want to be!
It was some ten minutes before Amanda returned, her face red, her clothing not quite so smartly adjusted.
"Are you alright Amanda?" I asked with mock concern.
She mumbled something incomprehensible. We proceeded with our work but it wasn't long before she was fidgeting again!
"For goodness sake whatever's the matter!"
I spoke with a trace of impatience. And this time in hesitant, low but increasingly desperate tones, she confessed.
"P… P… Please sir! Please fuck me! I n… need it! Please fuck me sir! O please sir."
It was quite obvious how much this confession cost her. The look of shame and abject misery on her face as she was obliged to plead for something she had once resisted was exquisitely poignant.
"Well you've changed your tune!" I said. "What about all that nonsense of cooling off you were spouting when we were driving here only last Friday?"
"I didn't mean, I mean, I didn't…"
"Obviously", I chuckled. "But this is all rather forward isn't it?"
She simply swallowed and lowered her head.
"What we do in our own time is one thing but these are business hours after all. When you're working from home self discipline is important."
I was quite enjoying my role as a pompous hypocrite…
Amanda looked like she was about to cry. "P… Please?"
"Oh very well , just this once but it had better not happen again. Bend over the desk."
In truth I was looking forward to this pumping, which I intended her to find a thoroughly degrading experience. Of course I had to be careful. I didn't want my prick to come into contact with any residue of the itching powder. Which is why I was going to treat Amanda to her first buggering, an event which I had long been anticipating!
When the girl was in position with her hands gripping the edge of the desk and her bottom prominently displayed, I pushed her short skirt up around her hips and pulled her white stockings down. The panties, which had inflicted so much secret and effective discomfort quickly followed.
A marvellous sight met my eyes. Amanda's beautifully sculpted derrière was now fully exposed, thrusting shamefully away from the nylon and cotton that had hidden it, defenceless and naked even as her head was buried in deep embarrassment between her hands.
I couldn't resist delivering a light slap across her bare bottom although I had no pretext for it. Her vulnerable buttocks, pale and flinching seemed to beg for another beating and I promised myself I'd find a proper excuse to deliver one in the near future. But on this occasion it would have been a waste. The pain of a thrashing would only have distracted her from the exquisite torture of her desperately itching loins. I wanted her to experience that maddening sensation to the full and to know that only I could cure it.
It was almost as if Amanda were performing a little dance for me. She was trying to keep still but her buttocks were flexing and shifting against one another in an effort to ease the itching. I watched her twitch and writhe in suppressed urgency for a delightful minute then took my time, releasing my prick from my trousers.
When I was comfortable I reached out to her buttocks, taking one in each hand and kneading them firmly. She whimpered in anticipation, expecting to be impaled by the conventional route. But that wasn't going to happen. I separated the cheeks of her arse to study her sphincter. It pulsed in rhythmic agitation as I eased it open by further stretching.
"Oh… Oooooo. No. Not there."
Amanda's little soft voiced moan of surprise told me that she'd realised my intentions!
"Yes", I said firmly. "That's exactly where…"
Her gasp as my prick eased into position was all I needed to tell me her token protest was futile. It was time to enter her rear passage for the very first time! I sensed it was going to be difficult because the way was narrow. But I was persistent and the girl did her best to accommodate me, despite the fact that I knew it was really her main entrance, which was desperate for relief. But she had no choice. It was her backdoor or nothing and hoping that even the indirect pressure of this anal reaping might help, she spread herself as well as she could.
"But it's hurting!" she squealed. "Please. No. I need. I. Arggg! Oooooo!", she sobbed in a manner I found most amusing.
"Keep your hands on the table!" I instructed the humiliated blonde rather sharply, sensing that she wanted to use her fingers to rub her sex raw. Instead she gripped the far edge of the desk more tightly and thrust her soft bottom back towards me. It took some time to complete my invasion. I knew that Amanda had never experienced this particular mode of use before and her rectum was still very tight and subject to involuntary convulsions, which hindered my progress. I slid one hand up the back of her blouse to press her down against the table. Careful stroking of her thighs and the back of her neck accompanied by a timely pinch or two helped her to relax and contract her muscles when it suited me. And at last my full length was buried to the hilt in her exquisitely tight rear end. Only when I was fully ensconced inside her hot and quaking flesh did I show any mercy, taking the ointment jar and rubbing it into her burning cunt.
"Something to help you keep your self control in future", I said truthfully enough without revealing that it was another chemical which had helped her to lose it.
How she bucked and writhed against me! And when I injected a healthy dose of hot sperm up her rectum and she climaxed to a synchronised clitoral pinch, I felt the additional satisfaction of a job well done. Amanda would now associate my gratification with her own release; in whatever way I took my pleasure with her. There would be no more of this nonsense about refusing any of my whims when I fancied a dalliance with her body. She'd be pathetically grateful for any attention because she had an addictive craving for sex with me. Her illusions of free thought had been thoroughly quashed. She needed me now and she knew it!
And too, my prick had enjoyed itself in her sweet young bottom for the first time, which was rather a bonus.
Part Eight: Vivian takes charge
At the beginning of September I needed to make two short business trips and I resolved to leave Amanda behind. She'd been seduced and secured and there was simply no need to let her out. It would be the first time my sexually addicted little P.A. had been separated from me since moving into the manor house and I knew she'd miss me. It was increasingly easy to read Amanda's thoughts, which was hardly surprising because with the aid of Dr. Stebbings excellent program I was now virtually writing them! There'd be an instant of relief to be free for a while from my stern gaze and demanding management over her body and soul. But this would soon be followed by separation anxiety and frustrated lust coupled with the nervousness she now felt around Vivian, my lawful bed partner and commanding spouse. It would make for an interesting mix.
We had a little conference; Vivian, Mrs Tibbs and myself.
"I've left Miss Jenkins with plenty of work to do" I told them. "I'll expect her to finish it before I return. Do you think you can look after her whilst I'm away?"
Vivian just grinned.
"Oh don't worry darling. I'm sure we can look after Miss Jenkins very well, can't we Mrs Tibbs?"
I read much into the sour look on the housekeepers face and none of it favourable for Amanda.
"That's settled then."
I was in Manchester for four days, involved in some detailed discussions with a potential trading partner, concerning the establishment of a shared holding company for liquid acquisition accounting. I guess that won't mean much to you but they were technically interesting meetings with the potential for some lucrative profits and I enjoyed the whole process of drawing up a deal. I was wined and dined in some expensive restaurants - perhaps not up to London standards but the best that the North West had to offer. Trips to the theatre and a couple of tasteful presents from the subtle side of the art market made it a most enjoyable visit. You know what I think about bribery. I never let it interfere with my business sense. But this was a good piece of business anyway. I was confident about the financials and I'd done some secret research that persuaded me of the strength of my position. So there was really no need for the sweeteners. I was going to close the contract anyway.
So what with one thing and another I'd put Amanda to the back of my mind for most of the week and it was only as I left the motorway that I began to wonder how Vivian had been getting on with her and to look forward to a little sexual entertainment to celebrate my success.
I phoned ahead when I was close to home and my wife was waiting by the door as I pulling my car into the driveway. Vivian was wearing a tight black sweater with matching trousers that hugged the lovely curves of her hips very closely. Black leather riding boots completed her attire and her thick black hair was tied back in a tight pony tail, fastened with a plain silver clasp. It was a simple outfit but a sexy one.
"How did your trip go, darling?", she greeted me. I kissed her, put my arm around her waist and led her back inside the house. For a couple of minutes we discussed my latest deal. Vivian is an invaluable ally on occasion and I appreciate her advice. She's very shrewd. But at last I grew bored of the financial talk and turned the conversation to other matters…
"I'm more interested in how you've been progressing with our little personal acquisition", I said.
Vivian smiled enigmatically and raised her eyebrows.
"And which acquisition would that be?" she said with an arch smile. She knew full well what I meant of course. She was just teasing me.
"The asset we've been keeping in the west wing", I said. "A certain Miss Jenkins - you must remember her!"
"Ah yes, Miss Jenkins… Well I think I've made good progress there, but you'll need to finalise the arrangements yourself."
Her eyes were sparkling with malicious pleasure.
"I'll be waiting for you in the bedroom. Let's proceed as planned shall we?"
I found Amanda in the lounge looking out of the bay window towards the woods. The girl was wearing sheer flesh coloured tights and the longest skirt she now possessed which was still only a couple of inches below the knee. I made a mental note to talk to Mrs Tibbs about that later. That skirt would have to be disposed of. Amanda's legs were her strong point and now that I had the means of controlling her wardrobe I wanted them displayed more fully at all times. At least her open toed sandals were suitably sexy and her white blouse has that hint of transparency that allowed me intriguing glimpses of her lacy half cut bra; very nice. Perhaps I'd have that bra dosed with itching powder next time…
Amanda gave a little start when she heard my footsteps then slumped in relief. Vivian must have been giving her a really hard time!
"Oh Peter it's been awful!"
"Why? What's happened darling?" I said with mock concern. I knew exactly what had happened of course.
"Your wife. She's found out about us! And she's accused me of trying to steal you. And called me a w… w… whore! And said it's all my doing and I'm a scheming bitch! You've got to tell her it's not like that! I wanted to leave but I couldn't. I haven't got a car or anything!"
She fell into my arms and I enfolded her in a tight hug, stoking her hair and letting her cry.
"There, there… Let's have no talk of leaving."
Her naïve trust was quite touching. Despite the disturbing way that our relationship had developed she clearly still failed to understand the calculating nature of my manipulation. She was a quite delightfully confused and distressed young woman. I let her cry for a bit before I struck.
"You have to admit that Vivian has a point", I said gently to the sobbing blonde. Amanda pulled away a little to stare at me in wide-eyed disbelief. I kissed her firmly, letting my tongue invade her mouth. When I broke off she was quiet - almost in a state of shock and very receptive with it. I sensed this was the perfect moment for the next step in the betrayal.
"Try to see it from Vivian's position dear", I said. "She is my wife after all. Don't you think she's entitled to be angry with you? You're a guest here - well not even that - only an employee. And she finds you've been taking pleasure with her husband's cock inside your hungry little snatch. It's not surprising she's livid is it?"
I stroked her hair with a soothing left hand as I fed her with the most outrageously hypocritical guilt. But it all made a weird kind of sense to her, because it chimed in with the subliminal messages we'd been feeding her.
"I… I… I suppose not", she admitted at last and I had to smile at how easy it now was to convince her of her own culpability even where she'd been quite innocent and helpless to resist my advances.
"Do you know what I think?" I continued. "I think it would be an appropriate gesture if you were to come with me and apologise to my wife. Clear the air eh? Right now."
She began to tremble and her obvious reluctance and fear turned me on.
"Now!" I insisted more firmly. I took her hand and pulled her like a reluctant school child towards the bedroom where Vivian was waiting.
My wife was sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs crossed and a half smoked cigarette in her left hand. She raised an eyebrow at our entrance and regarded us balefully.
"Amanda has something to say to you", I said.
Amanda swallowed and licked her lips nervously.
"S… s… s… I'm sorry!", she breathed softly.
"So you're sorry are you? Is that all? And you expect me to forgive you do you? As simple as that eh? Well it isn't good enough!"
The last words were shouted and made Amanda flinch. She'd blanched a bloodless shade of pale and her lower lip was trembling again.
"What you need is to be punished. It's the only language a slut like you understands. Yes, that will settle your hash missy. A sound spanking over my lap!"
Amanda flashed me a quick look of pure terror but I kept a firm grip on her arm. It was time she faced up to the facts and I wasn't about to let her run away now!
"I think she's right", I said, pressing our advantage. "A spanking would do you good! Come on. Let's get it over with!"
I frog marched the wide eyed girl over to Vivian and twisting her arm behind her back, bent her over sideways in front of my wife who was quick to take charge. Seizing the opportunity she pressed on the back of Amanda's neck and with only a little further help from me our hapless victim was soon in prime position to receive her punishment. The young blonde was so surprised she had put up scarcely any resistance! In moments Amanda's skirt was folded over her back to expose the ripe target of her beautiful buttocks beneath the flesh coloured nylon mesh of her tights. As I watched they clenched with involuntary anticipation and Vivian gave me a grim smile. Wasting no more time, my wife let fly with a blow of such ferocity it made Amanda squawk in terror and surprise. And that was only the beginning…
Over the next five minutes I was privileged to witness a model lesson in corporal punishment. Vivian laid into Amanda with a will delivering a series of stinging slaps which soon reduced my lovely blonde P.A. to a sobbing wreck. I was delighted with my wife's enthusiasm. We'd planned this little scene between us, of course as a necessary step in bringing the girl to heel and preparing her to accept a little more of the strictures which would be required of her if she were to fulfil our needs. So despite appearances this should have been a businesslike arrangement for my scheming young wife and I. Nevertheless, I sensed that Vivian's performance was not entirely an act. An astonishing force compounded the calculated manner in which she allowed Amanda's bottom to tense and relax before delivering a venomous blow at precisely the right time and place to maximise the pain. The variety of Vivian's assault ensured that no part of the girl's sweet young derriere was left untouched, from the tops of her thighs, to the small of her back. I suppose that despite everything we'd secretly agreed Vivian really was a little jealous of the younger woman and this was her opportunity to work it out of her system. So there was no mercy for Amanda and no respite until long after she was utterly subdued. I had to admit that it made my own introductory efforts at disciplining the girl seem like play acting although I knew they'd hurt her enough at the time.
At length the slaps began to transform themselves into something subtly different - something that was more of a caress. My wife now let her hand run more lightly over the bright red punished flesh of Amanda's throbbing bottom. I knew that even this touch would ache, and the blonde's anguished wriggling was scarcely needed to confirm it, but it allowed Vivian to assess the exact degree of suffering she had inflicted. I waited with bated breath for the next stage.
A little squeak of surprise from Amanda accompanied an unexpected new degradation. Unexpected for her at any rate! Vivian had slipped the fingers of her left hand under the waistband of Amanda's tights and panties and was now exploring her victim's sex. This was the supreme test of the progress of our vulnerable young blonde's conditioning. She'd behaved remarkably well in allowing herself to be manoeuvred into this position but how far had the deeper degrees of mental modification progressed? I needn't have worried.
"I don't believe it!", Vivian said in mock outrage, but her smile to me was one of grim triumph. "The little trollop's hot and sticky after all that! Disgusting creature!"
And she used her other hand to administer a new slap full across the bottom. Amanda sobbed loudly.
"Get up!", Vivian commanded her and the dazed young woman wobbled to her feet unable to look either of us in the eye and with her face nearly as red as her bottom.
"Now apologise properly to my wife", I said quietly but insistently.
Amanda was obviously still in a profound state of shock.
"I'm really sorry Mrs Killingworth", she began. Vivian's eyes narrowed and she slapped Amanda again, but this time across the face making her head rock back. "Ms Greenway!", she corrected her, reminding the girl that my wife had retained her maiden name.
"I.. I'm really sorry Ms Greenway", Amanda managed in a strangled choke of a voice. Her face was red from the combined effects of Vivian's last slap and the blood which must have rushed to her face whilst she'd been upended in such an undignified manner. She struggled to go on and I could sense that without any logical explanation for it, she really did feel an obscure but terrible guilt. Excellent. This was precisely the emotion we were aiming to inculcate and one which would aid us enormously in making her our thrall. Suddenly she broke down in floods of tears and ran sobbing to her room. I heard the door slam upstairs and wondered if she'd try to escape. No matter. I'd taken the precaution of amending the security program for this result. The timer switch allowed it to open from the outside but and it wouldn't open from the inside until the morning. By then, she'd have calmed down a bit.
Witnessing this new level of surrender and involuntary arousal from my beautiful blonde P.A. was rather hard on me. I would have relished the opportunity to fuck her then and there but that would have been foolish. I knew I mustn't be greedy or I'd ruin the whole plan. Amanda had had as much as she could safely take on this occasion. The time would come, I knew, when she would accept open sex in front of my wife but today it was a stage too far.
Still, I wouldn't be frustrated. Vivian smiled at me and her own arousal was obvious!
"She's gorgeous, isn't she darling? I can see why you've enjoyed yourself with her! And I think she's going to be just perfect for us!"
She stood up and kissed me and her nipples were hard beneath her sweater.
"I think the silly little bint was far enough gone to need finishing off, don't you?"
"Shall we have a look?"
There were concealed cameras in my P.A.'s room and a remote control unit switched the television in our bedroom to give us a live feed from hers.
My wife drew me to the bed and we both undressed as we watched. It was a fascinating picture. Amanda lay face up, full length on the bed, her tear stained features registering a peculiar mixture of shock, horror, anguish and frustrated sexual need. Her eyes were wide open and her lips were parted. She swallowed convulsively, evidently struggling to come to terms with her recent humiliation. And then her left hand strayed under her skirt and she began to finger herself.
I smiled. Amanda was such a horribly confused young lady; she was in no state to resist our programme.
Vivian gave me another kiss as we watched the hapless blonde strive for a climax, slowly and hesitantly at first but then with increasing energy and abandon.
"In future", my wife said sternly, "we shall have to prohibit unauthorised masturbation. I don't want that kind of disgusting behaviour in my house!"
"All in good time, love", I murmured as we watched Amanda achieve her objective at last and subside with a muffled sob.
I turned my full attention to my wife. "All in good time…"
Mrs. Tibbs would be the next person to see Amanda when she brought breakfast up to her room in the morning. This was already an established part of my P.A.'s new working schedule at the manor house. She was an employee not a guest so there was no reason for her to eat with the family. My housekeeper was responsible for laying out Miss Jenkins' clothes and keeping an eye on her general welfare. I spoke to her before retiring for the night.
"Miss Jenkins has had something of a shock", I told her, trying hard to keep a straight face. "Now the important thing is that business must proceed as usual. We have plenty of work to do and I expect her to carry on with her duties. So you must behave as though nothing has happened and ensure that she follows her routine as normal. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir", she said. "I understand perfectly."
The stern old woman cracked a smile! My housekeeper can read between the lines. She might not have been present to see Amanda spanked but she had a good idea what was going on and quite plainly she approved.
"I think it would be appropriate for her to dress in a tight skirt tomorrow", I continued. "Something that will mould itself firmly to her derrière."
"Of course sir. And will you require the young ladies' panties to be dosed with the power again?"
I considered this for a moment. "A light dusting, I think Mrs Tibbs. Perhaps there was rather too much for the poor thing last time!"
It was a very subdued and nervous young woman who reported for work next morning. Amanda was wearing a black nylon mini skirt, outrageously short and ridiculously tight. It would certainly have raised a few eyebrows (amongst other things!) in our old office but of course it was quite acceptable to me now… She blushed bright red as I coolly looked her over, pleased with the effect of her sheer white tights, shiny black high heels and crisp cotton blouse.
"You will reach a point", Dr. Stebbings had told me, "when your subject will rebel. I can't tell you when that will be. You must watch for the signs carefully. The fact is that at some stage the conditioning will cross a line, which triggers the more primitive and powerful defensive mechanisms. At that point you must be very firm. Once you're over the threshold you're home and dry, but you mustn't let your subject escape the net."
I wondered if today would be the day. Last night's talk of leaving, even before the spanking had certainly indicated a high degree of anxiety, which could easily be transformed into resentment. Her reaction to me was certainly a little different. She was very tense again, rather as she had been during the early stages of her seduction. She was avoiding my gaze and there was no doubt that the way I'd handed her over to my wife was preying heavily on her mind. She must know I'd betrayed her but I sensed she was still too bemused to formalise the idea or express it in words.
When Amanda sat down I had to fight not to smile at a little wince of pain, which crossed her pretty features. No doubt the spanking was still hurting and the tight restraints of her mini skirt would certainly not be helping.
It was in my interest to allow her no time for further reflection. We must continue as though nothing significant had happened. In that way she would come to accept her humiliation, long past the point where she could dare to complain. So work was the order of the day, and plenty of it! I set about explaining the requirements of a long and complicated data-gathering project…
The next phase of the plan demanded a degree of self-control. I knew I was going to find it hard but the result would be worth it! We'd keep Amanda aroused but I would be leaving that deliciously stimulated body untouched. And how could Amanda complain? Ostensibly, all I was doing was going along with the requests she had made when she came to the manor house! But in reality my lovely P.A. would be increasingly sensitive and increasingly frustrated, until she was ready to accept the breaking of the next taboo. The words we were feeding to her subliminally began to prepare her for it… I watched her log on to the network. There was no word of protest. The little bitch had accepted Vivian's spanking as her rightful punishment! Poor little Amanda! We'd past another very important stage without any sign of rebellion…
My second business trip was to Birmingham to one of our regional offices. It came a mere two weeks after Amanda had been so soundly thrashed by my wife. My hot blonde victim was bubbling away nicely now! How she needed it! But she'd had nothing except the relief of nightly masturbation to quench her incessantly stoked ardour. What a turn round. Her sex maddened little id was totally overcome by the pressures we'd imposed in it and she had no thought now for modesty, propriety or danger.
As far as she was able she was now going out of her way to entice me into riding her, but I maintained my discipline and deliberately ignored her provocative poses and pouting lips. And she was still much too apprehensive and repressed to dare to ask for what she needed out right. That fear was a very important part of the conditioning as well. We had the silly piece in a real stew!
So when I left a very confused and tense Amanda to the mercies of my wife and my housekeeper once again I expected them to make good progress. I wasn't disappointed…
A steady drizzle was soaking its way into the woodland and the dank heavy surface of the lawn. Dull grey clouds covered the sky and lent the afternoon an early dim presage of the evening to come. The leaded glass was obscured by little rivulets of rain and although it was warm inside the manor house Amanda shivered a little at the dour view from the window of the top floor corridor. The pale yellow bulbs, which lay bare in open candelabras, weren't much help. They seemed to emphasise the inadequacy of natural light without enhancing it especially well. Apart from the patter of rain against the glass there was only a long slow rhythmic ticking from the heavy oak cabinet of an antique clock to break the silence. Dark paintings of considerable obscurity brooded over the thick crimson carpet.
Amanda smoothed the front of her black cotton skirt anxiously over her thighs, wishing it wasn't quite so tight or so short. Ms Greenway had asked to see her. Apparently it was 'to clear the air'
'We have some unfinished business and whilst my husband is away, it's time we had a proper talk - woman to woman.'
Before she knocked on the bedroom door Amanda made a renewed effort to sort out the complex of tangled emotions, which now overwhelmed her whenever she tried to think about her situation at the manor house. Things were out of control but she didn't know what to do about it. She didn't really understand quite when her life had taken this strange and rather frightening direction. There was no single moment she could pinpoint - or perhaps there were many moments. But which was the crucial one? She remembered that there'd once been a time when she'd actively disliked Sir Peter and she'd certainly felt no trace of attraction for him. He was nearly three times her age after all! And yet now she was unable to think of him without a haze of distracting desire and it was hard to remember what it was like to have a boyfriend her own age - to have a free life away from work even. Every day she found herself hoping Sir Peter would fuck her and fill her needy loins, and every night when she was disappointed her frantic fingers made desperate attempts to compensate. And she could see nothing beyond this. This couldn't be normal!
If her feelings for Sir Peter were confused they were straightforward compared to her attitude towards his wife. Instinctively she resented the older woman with her elegant sophistication, her money and her place in society. There was basic sexual jealousy that this woman kept Sir Peter away from her and had the rights to his marital bed. She couldn't deny this and yet at the same time she felt guilty about it. She knew that she was in the wrong - she was only Sir Peter's mistress and so there was something immoral about her desires; something sinful even. Then too, she was afraid of Ms Greenway. With guilt constantly wrong footing her she'd allowed herself to be cowed by the older woman. It had been a hateful occasion when Vivian had confronted her with the accusation of seducing her husband. But that memory was as nothing compared to the shame and horror, which flooded her being whenever she thought about the spanking that had followed. She was more than a little scared of Ms Greenway now; there was no doubt about that!
And behind the guilt and the fear a third emotion was stirring in Amanda's heavily abused psyche - something unfamiliar and disquieting to the pretty young girl. Amanda couldn't help but remember the damp heat in her loins even whilst Ms Greenway was spanking her. And she remembered the svelte body of Sir Peter's wife with a curious and unnatural interest, which she didn't understand. Almost as if… almost as if the lithe brunette excited her.
There was no time to analyse this disturbing feeling. Somehow she had to get through this meeting - to keep herself together until Sir Peter returned. How bad could it be? Despite everything that had happened Amanda reminded herself that Ms Greenway was not her boss. She swallowed to suppress the butterflies in her stomach and knocked on the door.
Vivian was sitting on one end of a two-seat sofa. She was wearing a tight black tee shirt with a scoop neck which revealed a hint of pale cleavage and the straps of a black bra. Beneath her knee length navy blue skirt was a pair of almost opaque black tights and a pair of shiny black flat heels.
"Come in", she said. "Sit here please, won't you?" She patted the chintz cushion on her left.
"Mrs Tibbs will bring us some tea", she continued.
There wasn't much room on the sofa but there was nowhere else to sit and after an ineffectual look round Amanda found herself taking up the offered position. It brought her well within the zone of Vivian's personal space. In fact Amanda could feel the pressure and warmth of the older woman's thigh through the thin nylon layers of their hosiery.
"I think we need to have a proper talk, don't you?" Vivian said. "After all we're going to be living together for some time. There should be no confusion about where you stand with me. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Ummm… well yes, yes of course", Amanda stuttered, wondering anxiously where exactly this was all leading.
Mrs Tibbs arrived with the tea. It was hot and sweet and Amanda detected an aroma of honey in her cup. She drank it with convulsive little gulps, unaware that it contained an extra dose of her 'medicine'
"My husband's an incorrigible old rogue, but I can see why he fancied you. You're a pretty little piece, aren't you?" Vivian observed.
Inwardly Amanda bridled at this cool impersonal assessment. She was being treated as of she were some sort of object. She opened her mouth to protest but her head was woolly from the fumes of the tea and Vivian was speaking again. Amanda didn't have the confidence to interrupt her.
"You see, I could make life very difficult for you Miss Jenkins, if I chose to", the brunette said with a wolfish smile. "So we need to come to an agreement. I want to know the answers to some questions, first. There's something I need to understand about you. Something my husband may not have realised when he took you on..."
There was a significant silence.
" Look at me when I'm talking to you Amanda!"
Vivian put her hand under the blonde's chin and turned the younger woman's head to face her. They were eyeball to eyeball now.
"I know how you felt when I had you over my knee and you couldn't hide it. You're attracted to me aren't you?"
Amanda blushed. She tried to avert her gaze.
"B… but I'm not. That is, I don't. I mean, I…"
"Just admit it", Vivian said. "I make you all hot and bothered, don't I? It's not just my husband -it's me as well. You've got a craving for it, haven't you?"
Amanda felt a dreadful lurch at the bottom of her stomach - a frightening feeling that her inquisitor might be right.
"Kiss me Amanda!"
It was an order, not a request and confident that she would be obeyed, Ms Greenway bent her head over her victim's embarrassed face. The blonde's eyes opened wide and then her lips parted almost of their own volition as the hungry brunette closed in for the kill, planting a firm kiss across the soft exhalation of the younger woman's muffled sigh of surprise. And then Vivian's tongue had invaded Amanda's mouth and was swirling round the moist interior as she took a second more forceful kiss. There was the lightest and most tentative of returns but it was all Vivian needed to press her advantage. The predatory brunette pushed forward, her left hand sliding behind Amanda's back and squeezing the blonde tightly so that the girls were soon pressed firmly breast to breast. Amanda gave a little wriggle and surrendered to some more heavy kissing. If Sir Peter had been present he would have very much enjoyed the erotic sight the two women now presented - the sexy and sophisticated brunette dominating the sweet young blonde she had begun to master. At last Vivian broke away.
"Did you enjoy that Amanda?"
"I… I don't know", Amanda said honestly. She was miserable, bewildered but undeniably and perversely horny.
"How can I tell whether you're telling me the truth or not?" Vivian mused. "Especially when you're such an accomplished little liar?"
Amanda said nothing. There was nothing she could think of to say.
"There is one part of your body that can't lie. We know that don't we?"
"W… What do you mean?" Amanda was genuinely puzzled. She hadn't caught the significance of Vivian's sly remarks.
"Let me show you. Now sit still!"
With no further warning Vivian tugged the girl's blouse free from her skirt and then her fingers were worming their way under the combined elastic barriers of Amanda's tights and panties. The button at the side of her skirt popped with a click of snapping cotton and rolled across the floor. Amanda clenched her hands but found herself incapable of resisting. She didn't really want this but Ms Greenway was far too assertive for her. The hapless blonde squeezed her eyes shut in denial, as though the force of her will might change her circumstance somehow. But of course, even if such a thing were possible, her will had no force anymore. And very soon she felt a sweet friction begin in her groove and a hint of lubrication in response. She gave a soft moan and surrendered herself to the sensation. It had been too long since a foreign body had invaded her - a matter of days in reality but in her specially conditioned state it felt like an eternity. She was programmed for sex and her programming was about to be fulfilled. That was all there was to it.
"Good girl", Vivian crooned.
Her fingers scissored back and forth over the slippery nubbin of desperately hardening flesh that was Amanda's clitoris. It didn't take long at all. Amanda's orgasm was sharp and shocking - almost painful in its pleasure as her nerves conducted the lightning bolt which confirmed her programming. Almost like plugging the little bitch into the mains, Vivian thought. And she was juicing up again within seconds…
"You should be ashamed of yourself, going off like that. That cunt of yours doesn't lie does it?" Vivian remarked crudely. "But now you have to pay for your pleasure dear. It's your turn to see to my needs…"
Amanda began to fumble with Vivian's skirt. She'd bitten her lip with the intensity of her climax and now she was very flustered.
"Not like that! I want you to use your tongue. See if you can lick me nicely…"
Vivian guided Amanda into a kneeling position between her knees, slipping her panties down to allow the girl to make contact. For a moment or two Amanda seemed to hesitate, sensing the alien nature of the imposed duty. Her eyes were wide and her pulse racing. But she was still excited and in this state she could only comply with Vivian's insistent instructions.
As the beautiful blonde applied her lips and tongue with hesitant inexperience to the task she'd been set, Vivian allowed herself the luxury of a long pleasurable sigh, spreading her legs more widely to give the girl better access to the engorged flesh she was ministering to. So far, Peter had had all the pleasure of breaking the girl in and Vivian was conscious that this was the first real use she'd been able to make of Miss Jenkins. Everything was going perfectly to plan. Amanda's attentions were providing a most delightful form of stimulation and one which Vivian now expected to enjoy on a regular basis. The girl would certainly need some additional training in the art of cunnilingus but she had made a fine beginning!
It was the situation which aroused Vivian as much as Amanda's artless efforts with her unpractised mouth. Vivian had taken a handful of lesbian lovers before and three were certainly beauties at least the equal of Amanda, coming as they did from within her modelling agency. But her other lovers had been urbane and worldly, receiving as much as they gave. Amanda had a quite delightful quality of injured innocence and she was allowing herself to be dominated in a remarkable way. It was the knowledge of the power she wielded over the hapless girl, the liberties she was going to take with her body and the use that it would be put to that finally made Vivian come.
" Well you've proved that you can do something for me at least", she sneered. "Not very good but I dare say you'll improve with practice."
Amanda blushed bright red.
"Thank you Ms Greenway", she stammered. Now where had that come from? Amanda was a very confused young lady. And her confusion was not about to get any better.
" What I need to know now is whether you are capable of exercising self control." Vivian said slyly "You see I think you're rather an unfortunate little thing in many ways. I've diagnosed your problem. You're a nymphomaniac aren't you?"
"No. No. Well, I don't know."
"Of course you don't. But I do. I can see all the classic signs. I pity you really. You need help."
"W… what do you mean?"
"Well don't you feel in need of a good stuffing all the time? You're sex crazed aren't you? You'd do it with anyone given the chance. No wonder my husband has had to take care of you."
Amanda was on the point of tears, recognising the older woman's cruel analysis of her mental state over the last few weeks. But she was sure she hadn't always been like that. What had happened to her? Perhaps she did need help…
"I'm a reasonable woman. You've got a problem my dear but I'm happy to help you. I'll even let my husband fuck you sometimes when he has a mind to. On one condition."
Vivian's smile was profoundly disturbing. She allowed it to fade slowly from her face before continuing
"You attend some regular therapy sessions with me, and you do exactly as I tell you to."
"B… b.. but, well, alright, yes alright." Amanda stammered at last. She was really too scared to object and deep down inside, felt guilt at her affair with Vivian's husband and a need to atone for it by submitting to her lover's wife now.
" Good. That's settled then. I propose a little test to start with." Vivian said. "Something to confirm my diagnosis. I'll need you to cooperate so listen carefully…"
And so it was that five minutes later with her heart in her mouth and a lump of solid undigested fear in her stomach Amanda found herself once again draped over Ms Greenway's lap, preparing to be beaten. It was her worst nightmare - the thing she had feared unconsciously from the moment she walked into the room. Yet she'd agreed to it - agreed to let the older woman play with her sex again and punish her if she moistened herself. And all in the name of a cure for her supposed nymphomania.
She whimpered softly as Vivian stroked her bottom.
"Oh do be quiet! This is for your own good you know!"
And the punishment began.
Subjected to the relentless stimulation of Ms Greenway's simultaneous spanking and masturbation, Amanda's body responded with the primitive urges of ancient instinct, wriggling, squirming and trembling with suppressed desire. Meanwhile her mind struggled not to drown in the turbulent sea of overwhelming sensation. She was only capable of hanging on to the simplest of thoughts - that she mustn't cry out and above all that she mustn't climax. But it was so, so very difficult - next to impossible.
In the lulls between each strike, the brunette's shiny red fingernails worked Amanda with consummate skill, so that try as she might, the blonde found herself visualising the soft curves of Vivian's body, her supple but firm breasts, her creamy thighs and the moist centre of her being, opening like a swollen pink flower before her own lips and tongue. She squeezed her eyelids shut and ground her teeth until little tears formed at the corner of her eyes but after the briefest interlude Amanda was unable to resist without a more violent distraction.
So she pushed her bottom up almost eagerly; almost willingly offering up the tender pillows of her glowing buttocks to Ms Greenway's painful mercies. And Ms Greenway would oblige and duly spank them. It wasn't that Amanda wanted it. On the contrary, each blow was a hateful experience, delivered with spiteful venom and sending a shocking charge of exquisite pain into the girl's acutely sensitive nerve endings. But it was the only way that she could keep any control over the unceasing provocation of Vivian's fingers within her labia, which were constantly on the brink of pushing her into the climax she had to deny herself.
Slap! Another hard blow landed squarely across the blonde's bottom. Vivian was quite delighted with her little deception, the irony of which amused her enormously. This spuriously justified process which purported to be helping to cure Amanda of her uncontrolled desires was in actual fact going to do no such thing. On the contrary, the P.A.'s conditioning was being blatantly reinforced. And in one session, Vivian had made more progress towards Amanda's reorientation than her husband had managed in the first six weeks. Good work because it was built on solid foundations. Amanda was very vulnerable to suggestion now and quite without resources to resist.
Much as she relished the opportunity to spank Amanda 'for her own good', at last it was time to finish her off. Closing finger and thumb firmly over the girl's clitoris Vivian gave it a sharp tug and a fierce squeeze. With a great sob of despair and shame Amanda spasmed over her tormentor's knees. To her everlasting dismay the utterly humiliated blonde was wracked by a mind shattering orgasm. The older woman withdrew her fingers from the sticky cooling mess between Amanda's thighs and gave the softly crying girl a final contemptuous slap on the rump.
"You'll have to do better than that next time", Vivian said coldly.
I returned from Birmingham two days later and entered the study unannounced to find a marvellous scene in progress. Vivian was sitting on the edge of the desk with her legs spread wide as Amanda knelt below and planted diligent little kisses on my wife's sex. Our lovely young victim was totally naked and I was amused to see the raw red evidence of a recent spanking across her bare buttocks. Vivian winked at me and tousled Amanda's hair.
"Well, well, well", I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "What have we here?"
Amanda jumped like a scalded kitten! She obviously hadn't heard my entrance. Vivian had a firm hold on her though and she prevented the girl from turning round, pressing her face tighter into her loins and giving an accompanying little gasp of pleasure.
"I'm pleased to see you two ladies are getting on so much better", I said. I honestly believe I could see Amanda blushing through the already rich crimson of her tender bottom flesh! I crouched down behind her and stroked that painfully sore rump, watching it tremble, quiver and endeavour to shrink away from my touch. I couldn't resist delivering a little pinch to the inside of her left thigh and she squeaked loudly.
"I never knew you were a rug muncher, Amanda", I teased her, but my tone of voice was ambiguous and dangerous. In actual fact I knew that Amanda had no natural lesbian tendencies at all. That had come out plainly from Patricia Stebbings original assessment. What I was witnessing now was the product of some short but very effective conditioning and some serious browbeating by my wife. This was the reaction we'd been inculcating with Dr. Stebbings technique - a sublimation and redirection of her frustrated lusts and guilt into a need to service Vivian. And an excellent product it was too! But there was no need for Amanda to know that she'd been so skilfully manipulated.
"Why don't you plug the girl whilst she finishes me off?" Vivian suggested. I needed no second invitation! In moments I was out of my trousers and my straining cock was sliding smoothly into the blonde's sweet little nest. Amanda gave a startled twitch and bucked back. She moaned and lifted her head trying to turn to face me. But Vivian soon put a stop to that with a firm hand behind the girl's neck, pressing her face firmly back to work against her sex.
"Keep licking slut! I didn't tell you to stop!"
She smiled at me and blew me a kiss accompanied by a mischievous wink. I reached under Amanda and grasped her breasts thrusting firmly and deeply inside her as I squeezed the soft tit flesh. The fucking that followed had a curious quality. Although it was Amanda's lithe young body which was physically accommodating my cock, it was the sight of Vivian's growing pleasure which mentally synchronised with my own. My wife's pert little nipples were swollen and erect, her eyes were half closed and she was starting to grind her hips forcefully into Amanda's face. One hand continued to press the back of Amanda's neck whilst the other now joined me, fingers intertwining with my own as we mauled Amanda's right breast. The girl's little squeak of horror at this dual assault was muffled between the folds of Vivian's sex. I concentrated on my wife's needs, timing my thrusts to the rhythm of her building sexual energy so that my pressure complemented Amanda's services. My P.A. was working hard to please her boss's wife. I suppose she was finding it hard to breath with her mouth and nose repeatedly squashed so deeply into the older woman's sex. It must have given her an incentive to increase her efforts to bring my wife to orgasm. And although she was inexperienced her desperate enthusiasm made up for it as her tongue lapped urgently round Vivian's engorged clitoris. It took a long two minutes of unstinting energetic work before Amanda's struggles were rewarded with a deep groan of ultimate pleasure as my wife climaxed long and hard, her thighs clamping themselves round the girl's head in a final vice like grip as she shuddered to a deeply satisfying conclusion. And whilst she was still in the throws of passion I came, spurting a sympathetic dose of my own juices inside Amanda. And so it was that last of all, Amanda, her duties properly performed, was finally wracked by her own helpless orgasm, her spasm as she lost control giving my wife and I an amusing epilogue to our own pleasure as our bodies relaxed.
Amanda was sobbing softly but I felt no remorse. On the contrary, this little bout of fucking had been a very significant and enjoyable step in the progress of our plans. The lovely little blonde baggage had learnt that my wife and I were partners in authority over her. We'd used her for our mutual gratification, reducing her to little more than a living sex toy - an instrument to be employed however we wanted and with no consideration for her own desires. And she'd submitted, willingly or unwillingly, accepting the role of a passive fuck doll, and beginning to understand for the first time that her own pleasure would always be subordinate to ours. I had confirmation that with further training Amanda could now be converted into a very sweet little sex slave for my wife and I. It wasn't the main reason why we'd acquired her but as a by-product of the doctor's program it was certainly an added bonus! But would this be the point of rebellion?
Afterwards, in the privacy of our bedroom when we'd sent my P.A. back to her room, Vivian recounted exactly how she'd bullied Amanda into delivering reluctant but enjoyable cunnilingus. It seemed that this wasn't the first time. I listened with considerable amusement to my wife's story, delighted with this new degree of submission from the hapless girl and considering exactly how I would continue to develop her in the morning.
"Come here Amanda"
My pretty P.A. was dressed in a candy striped red and white blouse, a soft pink skirt, white tights and pastel pink high heels. Her bra and panties had been dosed today and she was clearly suffering a little from the unidentified itching, which her malleable subconscious had been programmed to interpret as a manifestation not only of her traditional desire for me but of a new and disturbing desire to service my wife as well. I put my arm round her waist and kissed her. She was trembling noticeably and her eyes had that doe like quality of injured innocence which she is still capable of displaying to this day and which I find so appealing. It was obvious that the girl was torn between conflicting desires, knowing deep down that she should not be accepting the liberties we were taking with her but powerless to resist us. Her enforced passivity must have been maddeningly strange to her and impossible to understand. But her desires were overwhelming…
"I'm very disappointed in you Amanda", I said in my 'more in sorrow than in anger' tone of voice.
She gave me an apprehensive and questioning look.
"I leave you alone for a few days and you just can't control yourself can you? Did you enjoy yourself licking my wife's minge?"
"I… that is. I didn't want to… I mean, I…"
"Are you saying there was something wrong with it?"
"N…N… No. That is. Ummm…."
She blinked, swallowed and looked away. I found it hard to believe but the sexy little bitch was blushing with shame!
"It seems to me, you're a regular home breaker aren't you?", I teased, but there was an underlying air of menace in my voice, which belied the lightness of tone. "It's not good enough to seduce me is it? No. Now you have to go seducing my wife, just because I wasn't around to plug up your greedy little snatch."
She bit her lower lip and looked as if she was about to cry. It was all so unfair!
"I thought I could trust you but I'm beginning to think Vivian was right all along! Lets have you over my lap. It seems to be the only language you understand!"
She made a token move to pull away but her heart wasn't in it and I was not to be denied. I'd conceived a desire to combine two pleasures, which I had hitherto only experienced separately. The first of these would be a sound thrashing of her pretty bottom. I felt I'd exercised quite enough restraint after delivering my original and only spanking, and the sight of Vivian's recent efforts in this direction had given me a renewed appetite to punish Amanda again - and rather harder this time…
Now at this point I must make a small confession. On the whole I am rather pleased with the self control I've exercised in the acquisition of Amanda but if I'm honest, that particular day I fear my emotional detachment weakened just a little. Something had punctured my equilibrium, I wasn't sure exactly why but I was genuinely angry with Amanda for the first time.
I stroked her bottom gently, studying the softly rounded pillows of flesh which swelled and pressed against the sheer white nylon of her tights. How she trembled! The girl's buttocks were no longer the pure unblemished canvas of pale white skin which they'd once been. The evidence of recent beatings was plain to see in the delicate marks of a variety of interesting bruises which now decorated her bottom. I pressed my index finger firmly against one pale yellow example and was rewarded with a wince of pain from my lovely victim. It was the spur I needed to begin the thrashing.
And thrash her I did! Hard. Very hard.
She began by crying then moved to a pitiful begging and pleading but I had no need to show mercy and no desire to do so either. I sensed I was on the cusp of a new regime where it was unnecessary to give more than a cursory consideration for the girl's feelings and I could give free rein to my own. I was determined to outdo my wife! I slipped the girl's shoes from her feet and Amanda's pastel pink high heels were soon employed in beating her bottom. They were excellent instruments for her chastisement. The body of the shoe flexed just enough to ease the wielding and the flat of the sole made a most satisfying and loud crack when it landed on her buttocks. It wasn't long before her flesh was as pink as the shoes.
Incredibly, when I finally stopped and slid my hand under her tights Amanda was hot and damp. Punishment and pleasure were now confused. She cried and wriggled but her body wanted to open itself despite the fear in her head.
I was in no mood to give the girl the usual form of relief, much as I needed some release myself. It would serve her right to stew for a bit. I had something else in mind- something that might be rather painful for my pretty P.A. but would be enjoyable for me! I rolled her over, yanked her tights down round her knees and pulled the cheeks of her sore bottom apart. The heel of her shoe was now used to probe her anus whilst the hapless blonde gave a squeak of horror. Some lubrication would be needed. I pushed my fingers into her snatch again and then widened her bottom still further and moistened the entrance with her own sex juices. When I thrust inside, I found her ring tight but not impossible to breach. With three successively stronger thrusts I was inside. The heat of her freshly punished buttock flesh against my loins added to my pleasure enormously and I was content to enjoy it for a long few seconds. Amanda was sobbing noisily. I reached into her snatch again and started to frig her. She bit back a cry and bucked against me, clearly over stimulated and highly emotional. I orgasmed, dumping my cum deep inside her back passage just as she bucked twice more, climaxed hard and subsided.
Not a bad morning's work, I reflected as I tidied myself up and ordered my P.A. to get me a coffee. I'd reminded her who was really her boss and it had been a most agreeable buggering session. I'd probably do it again…
Part Nine: Amanda's career change
Two days later my P.A. came to see me in the study. Her eyes were red and I suspected she'd been crying. She was jumpy and febrile as though she'd been spending hours in the night stealing herself to face this meeting. I'd expected something like this. The only surprise was how much progress had been made before the girl dared to put up any significant resistance.
'So', I thought to myself 'at last!' It was the long awaited rebellion! The little blonde bitch was finally showing some backbone. Now was the time when I had to be especially careful. The last critical hurdle was approaching.
"Sit down Amanda", I instructed her, taking charge from the outset. She was smartly dressed as ever and when she sat on the polished oak chair, her short navy blue skirt rode up her thighs so that her knees were clearly visible beneath the sheer white nylon of her tights.
"I can't continue like this", Amanda said.
I raised an eyebrow but said nothing, content to force her to make the running.
"I mean I can't continue as your P.A.", she stumbled on. "It's not right. Your wife spanks me for my… for what… for what I do with you and she makes me… you know what she makes me do! And then you spank me for that! It's not fair! I've got no self-respect. I can't be your P.A. I can't!"
The last phrases ended on a rising note of anguish.
I paused as though thinking, urbane, cool and in control. Amanda squirmed anxiously. She crossed her legs, giving me an excellent view of those splendid limbs. Then she tried to smooth down her skirt to cover her thighs and uncrossed her legs again. Mrs Tibbs had dosed her panties with an extra measure of itching powder again this morning and it was plainly making itself felt!
"Stop fidgeting Amanda!" I said sternly but offhandedly.
Her soft voiced apology was automatic and a useful reminder to her of just who was in charge here. Her fate depended on my decision.
"Do you know, I believe you're right"
That surprised her! She'd expected a fight and here I was agreeing with her. Visible relief washed through her system.
"It just isn't working out is it? I'm afraid you're rather a disappointment to me. You see when I selected you for this responsible work I thought you had it in you to be a good P.A. : Loyal, efficient and intelligent. But then you just seem to do one dumb thing after another. It isn't good enough is it?"
The unfortunate blonde was chewing her lip now. Somehow this was all her fault all of a sudden. How had that happened?
"No, you're simply not capable of doing the job", I concluded dismissively.
"Oh. Yes, well, I suppose I'd better go then?"
My tasty young crumpet was confused and upset but still she asked my permission. This was almost too easy!
"Not just yet Amanda", I said. "I haven't finished with you! Try and think things through for once in your life. Do you really want to leave? Really?
You need a job don't you. And we still have our little personal arrangements to consider. Who's going to take care of that hot and sticky little slit for you? You know you're a nymphomaniac don't you? You can't keep your mind straight when there's a cock within half a mile can you? And Vivian's proved that you're just as bad with women. Let's face it, you're a wanton little strumpet and without my guiding hand you'd probably end up selling your body on street corners."
She was blushing a fearsome shade of crimson now!
"That's not fair! I'm not like that. I'm not!"
"Look at the evidence" I taunted her. "You flaunt yourself constantly in front of me when we're supposed to be working. You know when we started our affair I thought you were a perfectly normal young woman with normal needs and desires - I'd no idea you were so needy - that'd you'd become so, well, greedy even I guess I'd call it. You just can't help yourself, can you? You're really quite a slut, aren't you Amanda?"
She shook her head in denial but I continued remorselessly.
"And when I think of what my wife has done for you, you're an ungrateful slut at that! You know that Vivian could have made life very difficult for you. Most wives would have! Instead she's gone out of her way to understand you and try to help you. Personally I think it's very good of her to take you under her wing and try to thrash all that wanton lust out of you. It's the only language you seem to understand, isn't it? Well isn't it?"
"B… but it hurts so much!", the blonde cried. "I can't bear it, I can't!"
"Of course it hurts Amanda. And I hope it hurts when I spank you as well. That's the only way you're going to learn appropriate behaviour isn't it?"
I thought Amanda was going to burst into tears.
"But I can't deny that I enjoy our little bouts of intimate exercise", I said more softly. "And there is a way they can continue and a way for you to regain your respect."
Now she looked at me with something like hope. It was time to spring the trap.
"The problem is just that you're trying to do work which is beyond your capability. But there's a job here that you could fill very well, I think. A job where you don't have to think and you just have to do as you're told. In that job you needn't feel awkward about being punished. Lets get straight to the point. My wife and I need a maid for the house, to wash and clean and make the beds. Someone to help Mrs Tibbs. Do you think you can manage it?"
"Oh. That is…. Well, what about all my training and my education! I mean… I mean, it doesn't seem fair!"
I shrugged. "What about them? They've plainly done you no good have they?"
She bit her lip again. The expression of anguish on her face was priceless.
"Take it or leave it", I said. "It's the best you're capable of."
"A… alright then. I'll be your maid", she said at last, utterly crestfallen. Poor little Amanda! She'd been looking for a way out and when I'd presented her with my plan the befuddled young thing had confused an escape door with the entrance to a deeper level of the trap. O dear o dear!
I had her where I wanted her now. It was time to begin the final phase.
"Well there's no time like the present", I said briskly. "Come with me and lets get you started!"
I was well prepared for this stage - even though I hadn't known exactly when I'd be able to convert Amanda into our maid I'd planned for the occasion as soon as she moved into the manor house. We went downstairs to see Mrs Tibbs and then to the box room under the parlour.
"I'm taking Amanda on as a housemaid", I told Mrs Tibbs. "I'll need a new P.A, of course but frankly she's not up to the job. This is a second chance for her."
The poor girl blushed bright red and looked mortified at my casual public humiliation. Mrs Tibbs showed no surprise though. She'd been briefed to expect a development of this kind and just smiled grimly.
"Very good sir. And when will she be starting?"
"Right away! As soon as she's changed into a proper uniform."
Mrs Tibbs laid out her new clothing on the bed, the same outfit she's wearing now. Amanda's reaction was most interesting. The sight of the skimpy costume clearly disconcerted her.
"Well then, let's have you undressed and properly attired! Come on."
Amanda dithered uncertainly, waiting for us to leave. She certainly didn't expect us to watch her dressing but she had an important lesson to learn about modesty and privacy - there wasn't going to be any for her from now on!
"No need to be shy Miss Jenkins! I've seen your bare body enough times already and Mrs Tibbs is household staff. There'll be no secrets from her in your new role so you might as well get used to it. Come along. Get your clothes off, I haven't got all day!"
I don't know which embarrassed Amanda more, the casual way in which I'd just revealed to Mrs Tibbs that we'd had intimate relations or the prospect of standing naked before both of us now. It didn't matter. Reluctant and even a little scared, Amanda began to strip for us.
I will remember that pitiful disrobing with enormous satisfaction for many years to come. It was an experience I found charged with a peculiarly potent eroticism. On the face of it, it might seem hard to understand just why. After all, I'd told the truth when I said I'd seen my victim naked plenty of times before and there'd been other more intimate humiliations. Yet there was something special about this occasion.
To start with, it was the first time I'd ordered the little bitch to undress. No request, no pretence at foreplay, just a straightforward command. Then too, I knew something she didn't. Unless I chose to take her out of the manor house for any reason this would most likely be the last time she wore "civilian" clothes ever again. From now on, I'd be keeping the blonde in her maid's uniform permanently. No options. Except for the times I might want to see her naked, of course!
There were further important factors. The presence of the grim faced Mrs Tibbs could not be overlooked. However bad things might have seemed between us, until recently Amanda had been able to console herself with the thought that it was all in private and no one knew. That was why Vivian's intervention was such a crucial blow in undermining her confidence and greatly reducing her residual sense of security. But even there, and even when we'd taken her and used her between us, she'd always been more or less conscious of Vivian's central role in my life. In a strange way, her long fear of discovery had almost made the fact of it a relief. That was partly why she had capitulated so easily.
But Mrs Tibbs was something else. She'd had no emotional claim over Amanda and until recently she'd been serving her as a guest. To be relegated to the housekeeper's underling and made to expose herself so intimately and shamefully brought a whole new kind of embarrassment into Amanda's churning anxiety.
The zip of her skirt seemed to give the girl some trouble and even when she had it down the fabric was so tight about her hips that she had to wriggle and tug for an excruciating few seconds before it was over her thighs and falling to the floor to land in a pool below her high heels. She couldn't meet our eyes. Her face was turned to the floor and shielded in her long hair. What could be seen was coloured a bright blushing pink. Poor little Amanda! She just couldn't come to terms with what was happening to her. And if I am honest I must admit that I found this evidence of discrete distress rather enjoyable. Her acute mental suffering was so exquisitely piquant!
For the plain fact was that despite everything that had happened to her to date, Amanda retained a certain wide eyed innocence, preserved by the manner of the conditioning and her real incomprehension of the imposed desires which now governed her. She seemed to block out the extent of each new degradation until the next subtle escalation brought home to her how far she had gone. Then, as on this occasion, she was mortified beyond reason. And on this occasion too I had an additional reason for relishing her shame, because her current plight had been a direct result of her attempt to plead with me for a way out of these spiralling humiliations! And instead it had only landed her deeper in trouble. I wondered whether Amanda appreciated the clever and cruel irony of my tactics and I sensed that in some dim way she did. The thought gave me much pleasure.
The blonde certainly looked very cute in just her blouse, white tights and black high heels. She fumbled with the buttons of her top, still keeping her face to the floor, and it was only when she finally shrugged it from her shoulders and bent to step out of her shoes that I could see she was crying. They were slow silent tears and they did not hinder her actions so I said nothing. Mrs Tibbs and I waited with impatient silence, observing closely as the girl struggled out of her nylons and her bra and panties.
The sight of Amanda's nude body confirmed to me once again that my wife and I had picked an excellent specimen. Her recent diet and exercise had toned the girl to perfection. She would be well-suited for child bearing.
I didn't have long to appreciate her nakedness as Amanda quickly scrabbled to don her new clothes; high cut black lacy panties, considerably skimpier than the almost virginal white ones she had favoured before, a suspender belt (no tights for her from now on!) and matching stockings. The dress was tight, very short and made the most of her breasts, pushing them into up to present a pleasing cleavage, and there was a new pair of shoes to go with the outfit.
All, in all, I was very satisfied with her appearance. She was a vision of erotic delight. The sheer black stockings and high heels displayed her lovely long legs to excellent advantage and the dress emphasised her curves in all the right places, displaying her anatomy most provocatively.
"Come and sit on my lap", I said to her when she had finished dressing. "I had better explain to you exactly what your new duties will entail."
I ran my hand freely up her leg, remembering the first time I'd taken such a liberty with her on our business trip to Scotland. How long ago that seemed! What a long way we'd come!
"The terms and conditions of employment for a maid are rather different from those of a P.A." I said. "To begin with I'm afraid you can't continue to use the guest room. There's a small box room next to the scullery. You'll sleep there."
I'd had the box room fitted out with concealed speakers of the same sort as those in the guest room, but the acoustics of the box room in a smaller space were rather better. It would be easy to continue the subliminal programming maintenance.
"You won't be reporting directly to me now", I told her. "Mrs Tibbs will be taking over the job of your day to day management. She will give you the rest of your instructions when I've finished. But before I go there's one very important issue to settle."
I ran my hand up under her skirt and slipped it inside her panties. Her genitals were swollen and puffy - no doubt the result if this morning's itching powder - and there was a hint of moisture there. The girl was so easy to arouse now! I'd only been caressing her leg for a few moments and this against the background of her recent disturbing demotion and yet already she was unable to help herself from rising to my casual stimulation.
Amanda took a sharp breath and her head whipped round to look at Mrs Tibbs. The terrible impropriety of the situation made her skittish but she was helpless to resist me and she turned her face to the floor again to hide her blushes at my next words. My housekeeper just smiled grimly.
"From time to time I'll send for you and we'll attend to the cravings of this sweet little honey pot, in the way you seem to need. And since I am a generous man I'll go further. I'll promise you something else. I'll talk to my wife and ask her to suspend your treatment for a while since your bottom seems so sensitive!"
The hapless blonde looked up at me with a peculiar admixture of hope and trepidation on her face. Her breathing was shallow and a little ragged because my index finger was now stroking her labia. Her eyes were still watery with the residue of tears and she looked absolutely delectable. I wanted to kiss her. So I did.
"But if I talk to Vivian, you have to promise me something in return", I continued.
She was hanging on my every word now.
"You have to promise me that you'll control your own wanton indulgences properly. To be specific, that you won't engage in self abuse anymore. I want you keep your sticky fingers out of your pleasure portal unless you're given explicit permission to stoke your fires.
I've reason to believe you worked yourself over sometimes at night. Masturbation in the privacy of the guest room was tolerable although hardly a sign of proper behaviour. But now that you are my maid I expect stricter standards of etiquette and frankly any sort of diddling in your loins is quite unacceptable. Do you understand?"
"Yes", she said simply, soft voiced.
I had the bitch right where I wanted her, in the jaws of a very nasty trap…
"Then do we have a deal, Miss Jenkins?"
I think she would have agreed to anything if she thought it would protect her bottom. Her powers of reasoning were now greatly weakened along with her remaining will power.
"Yes", she said. "I promise!"
At two o'clock on the following day, I met with my housekeeper to discuss the way to handle our new maid. Mrs. Tibbs showed me the duty roster she'd prepared. There was plenty of hard menial labour with a lot of floor washing and polishing which my housekeeper assured me would be done the 'good old fashioned way' with cloths and buckets. Amanda would be spending a lot of time on her knees - a sight I rather looked forward to, given the shortness of her uniform.
"And how has Miss Jenkins been getting on with her work so far. I know you've only had one afternoon and a morning but I trust she's following instructions properly?"
"She'll do", the housekeeper said rather sourly. "I won't stand any nonsense from her though."
"Quite right Mrs Tibbs, quite right."
There was a steely look in the old woman's eyes and I got the impression she didn't like Amanda very much. I doubted whether the poor girl had done anything to deserve her disapproval - it was likely a generational thing coupled with having to treat her as a guest for so long beforehand. I suppose Mrs Tibbs must have picked up part of her attitude from her employers too - from my wife and I. She was really a very valuable domestic servant and I tried to remember it. Pretty chits like Amanda, sexy as she was, could be found in lots of offices. I'd be cross to lose her after the time I'd now invested in conditioning the hot little bitch but she wasn't irreplaceable. If something went wrong I now felt confident enough of Dr. Stebbings technique to know that I could acquire a replacement without too many problems. Mrs Tibbs on the other hand was well nigh irreplaceable. If I wanted her to take an important role in keeping Amanda corralled, I'd do well to keep her properly informed and properly remunerated. I resolved to give her a pay rise - she deserved it.
"And how far can I go, if the girl doesn't measure up?" she said.
"Ah, you mean if you need to discipline her?"
"Well that's rather a sore subject at the moment isn't it?" I laughed at my apposite little metaphor, although I know it is not good taste to relish one's own jokes. Mrs Tibbs understood me though. She'd been present at the maid's induction after all…
"We must go carefully ", I continued more seriously. "I doubt if you'll have any serious issues with her for a while. I think she's rather anxious to please at the moment."
"But sooner or later there'll be a problem with her", Mrs Tibbs stated firmly, as though pronouncing judgement.
"Don't worry about that. I can assure you that when the time is right you'll have the means to assert your authority."
"Strapping or birching?" the old woman asked bluntly.
"Well since you put it so directly, you'll have my permission to strap her. There are some supple leather examples in the stables which I'm sure will make excellent aids for keeping Miss Jenkins in line. But not until I say so."
"Ummm…" Mrs Tibbs gave a satisfied smirk. I do believe she was looking forward to punishing my unfortunate ex P.A. I wasn't sure that I approved of gratuitous cruelty but if that was the way Mrs Tibbs wanted to assert her control over her subordinates then so be it. Who was I to interfere in the practicalities of household management?
"Now, there are a couple of other matters", I said. "Please tell Miss Jenkins that in future she ought to address me as the Master and my wife as the Mistress. I can't abide informality in junior staff. The other matter is of a more delicate nature. You are aware that my wife and I sometimes like to enjoy the pleasures of the girl's body. Just a little perk to reward us for the trouble we've gone through to prepare her for her main use, you understand? Well there is one particular mode of operation, as you might call it, which needs a little work to improve it."
I reached into my pocket and produced a metal slug, shaped rather like a bullet and the size of a large suppository - a very large suppository in fact.
"I refer to Miss Jenkins' nether passage. Her rectum has considerable potential as a place of entertainment for the discerning male member and I should like to visit it again, but frankly, at the moment the girl is less accommodating than I would like because she is simply too tight. Now this fine instrument can help. Inserted into the troublesome passageway and worn throughout the day it will widen the ring of her sphincter and accustom her muscles to accepting the kind of invasion I have in mind."
"I see", Mrs Tibbs said, following my circumlocutions without difficulty.
"I would like you to see that she wears it."
Mrs Tibbs smiled. "I shall fit it myself!"
Later in the week I went to the guest room to deal with Amanda's remaining possessions. Most of her clothes were no longer needed and I decided to send them on for recycling to the local clothing bank, keeping back a single simple outfit in case I ever wanted her to accompany me in public for any reason. Her mobile phone could now be disposed of. It hadn't been working for a while, ever since I'd replaced the battery with a dud one. She had a small amount of jewellery and a watch that were valuable enough to be worth selling and then there were some more personal effects. I found three photographs and a couple of letters from her ex boyfriend which she'd touchingly kept even after I'd engineered their split. I burnt these.
Coming down the stairs I found Amanda leaning over the great oak table in the hallway polishing the surface with a white cloth. My new maid didn't hear me approaching, intent on her work and making vigorous motions to rub the bees wax deep into the grain of the wood. She looked delicious, the hem of her skirt riding up over her bare bottom and her magnificent legs sheathed in sheer black nylon with calf and thigh muscles under that little bit of tension forced by her high heels. I reflected that I hadn't enjoyed any sex with Amanda since I'd spanked her for seducing my wife. So much had happened since then! Now perhaps there was time for a little pleasure…
I stepped up smartly behind her, remembering the occasion I had once caught her by surprise at the photocopier when she was my P.A. That had been fun but now I could go further.
Before she even realised I was there, my arm was pressing against the small of her back and her face was pushed against the shiny wooden table top.
"Don't get up Miss Jenkins", I said. She gave a little squeak of surprise and then went silent. I could feel her trembling as I bent my head close to her cascade of long blonde hair.
"Have you been a good girl?" I whispered hoarsely in her ear. "No more self abuse, I trust?"
"Glad to hear it!"
I flipped up the back of her dress. Her panties were riding tight into her bottom. I eased them away down her hips and was now able to see that the butt plug I had given to Mrs Tibbs was securely in place and doing its job. I gave it a little push to register it more deeply. In a week or two the girl would be stretched sufficiently to be capable of accommodating a slightly larger size.
"I wouldn't want to think I'd have to punish you again", I teased, tracing a light palm over her clenching buttocks.
"Oh no Peter… I mean… no, master. No you don't have to do that master. I've done exactly what you've said. I haven't touched myself there. Honestly! And I'm doing what Mrs Tibbs tells me to. You don't need to spank me! Really!"
"Really master", I corrected her idly.
"Really master!" she confirmed eagerly.
It was a delight to hear her addressing me with my new title as well as to hear the desperation in her voice when she considered the prospect that she might be beaten again. You might imagine that after two spankings from myself and an unknown number from Vivian she would be starting to become accustomed to the prospect but you'd be completely wrong. On the contrary, it was the intensity of the humiliation of those punishments which now loomed large in her mind as a horror to be avoided at all costs. The conditioning reinforced it constantly and with this lever I'd got her right where I wanted her.
My fingers moved round to her sex. She was hot and sticky! It was no more than I expected now but still a very pleasing confirmation of all my work to date.
"Legs apart Miss Jenkins!" I instructed her, and she complied with alacrity. I slid my length inside with a sigh of satisfaction. This was how it was going to be from now on. There would be no more need for foreplay unless I wanted it. The lightest touch would arouse the nubile blonde and have her panting for a stuffing. She was mine whenever I felt like it, at a moment's notice.
Her performance was very good, the muscles of her sex contracting firmly, rhythmically and very pleasurably to massage my complacently swollen cock.
"Thank you master", she gasped softly when these ministrations had their inevitable effect. I withdrew with an audible plop, gave her a patronising pat on the bottom and left her to finish polishing the tables.
"She must utterly broken to our will, you know that don't you darling?" my wife said. We were watching from an upstairs window as Amanda knelt on all fours to weed the rose bed by the fountain, under close supervision from Mrs Tibbs. Her maid's uniform is a little scanty for outdoor wear and a light breeze disturbed her dress revealing plenty of her sexy young body. I detected a hint of jealousy from Vivian. I suppose she was finding it hard not to respond with the primitive instincts of a woman seeing a rival for her mate. That's why she enjoyed thrashing Amanda so soundly and being prohibited from doing so, vexed her somewhat. But it wouldn't be for much longer.
"Of course love. Don't worry, it's all going perfectly to plan. We just need to have a little patience now. We are so very close - so very, very close. You wouldn't want to spoil it all because of a little impatience now would you?"
I kissed her.
"The bitch is simmering nicely now. She's in a real quandary. Night after night the voices in her head tell her she must obey us and they tell her how dreadful the consequences of disobedience would be. Mrs Tibbs sees that she gets her drugs in regular doses with her meals. And she's been conditioned to such a pitch of desire for me and for you that she's constantly cooking in a stew of lust and frustrated desire. If it weren't for my strict instructions she'd be frigging herself senseless every night."
"I'm itching to give the wanton little floozy a damn good spanking again", Vivian muttered.
"And so you shall", I soothed her. "So you shall. But we must follow Dr. Stebbings guidelines now. There's the last kernel of independence left to crack, and for it to crack properly she must fully and firmly believe in her own guilt, and accept punishment as her proper due."
"And when will that happen?"
"Soon my love. Very soon. She cannot continue denying herself. She's struggling but she'll lose. She'll dip her fingers in her honey pot and then we'll have her! Just you wait and see."
In fact it was more than a week after my conversation with Vivian before my prophesy was fulfilled. I knew I'd catch Amanda in the end. It was just a question of time. The girl didn't realise how many monitoring cameras I kept round the manor house. There was nowhere where she was really alone. And one Wednesday morning, when she thought my wife and I had left to visit the village and when Mrs Tibbs was downstairs in the kitchen, the sly bitch stole an opportunity for some much needed private relief when she was supposed to be making the beds. Spotting the situation develop on the security monitor I made my way straight to the scene of the crime with a grim inwards exultation.
On entering the master bedroom I was presented with a most stimulating sight. My new maid was lying face up in the middle of the fourposter. The shiny high heels were discarded on the floor but she was still wearing the rest of her uniform. Her eyes were closed, her sheer nylon clad legs parted with her knees raised and her bottom lifted slightly from the bedspread. The fingers of her right hand were pushed under the hem of the short dress, beneath the waistband of her black tights and inside her crisp white panties. She was moaning softly and frigging herself with desperate urgency. It was a marvellous little scene. Her golden hair cascaded over the pillows, her pale skin was flushed pink with the strength of her arousal and her lovely long legs were displayed to excellent effect. The delicious sensuality of her actions, the perverse attractions of her new uniform and the sweet eroticism of her predicament all combined to provoke my own lusts. But before I could enjoy them there was important business to settle. I was only just in time. A moment longer and the blonde baggage would have climaxed. I had no intention of permitting that! Amanda had been given unequivocal instructions not to masturbate without permission and I would not tolerate disobedience. She was about to learn a painful and vitally important lesson. From now on, her sexuality was totally under the control of my wife and me.
The first thing Amanda knew about my arrival was when I grabbed her arm and brutally pulled her off the bed, leaving her frustrated only a few seconds away from sexual release.
"Miss Jenkins", I yelled at her. "What the hell do you think you're doing!"
The girl gave a sob of surprise and fear as I twisted her arm behind her back and bent her over the bed again.
"I can't believe it!", I continued in mock outrage as she struggled beneath me. "After all I've done for you, this is how you repay me! I gave you a chance to work at the very top of the organisation and you let me down badly. I could have dumped you then, but no. I gave you a second chance here at the manor house and a third chance as our maid, and look at you! You can't even be trusted with some simple cleaning jobs, without indulging in mindless self abuse. And in the master bedroom too! Have you no respect for myself and my lady wife? You're just an ill disciplined little slut, aren't you? Now stay right where you are and don't move!"
I was breathing hard and my fury must have seemed convincing because Amanda had now subsided to a whimpering acquiescence, afraid look me in the eye and able only to bury her face in the sheets, leaving her bottom exposed to my hungry gaze. That suited me fine. It was her bottom that I had business with!
I lifted her short skirt and tugged tights and panties down to half mast above the knee. Then I ran my hand roughly over the smooth globes of her nicely rounded rump.
"You'll pay for this Miss Jenkins", I said in a quieter and altogether more menacing tone. "I've tried so hard with you but now my patience is exhausted. No more games. No more chances. This time it's the cane for you!"
"Oh please, please master. I'm sorry master! Really master!"
"Too late for that now!"
I saw her buttocks clench with fear and watched her breathing tighten. But she dare not move! Her conditioning was now too deep to permit her to consider any alternative to submissive surrender. And besides she believed me. If I said she'd been bad then it must be true.
My wife and I had given some thought to this moment. We'd chosen a cane from a speciality shop with considerable care and it was stowed in the wardrobe just waiting to meet the tempting target which Amanda's supple and vulnerable bottom now offered. I took it out and swung it experimentally, watching the softly sobbing blonde flinch as she heard the thin flexible bamboo swish through the air.
"You understand why this is necessary don't you?" I said.
"Y… yes", she breathed softly. I smiled in satisfaction.
"You deserve it don't you?"
"Yes", she said again, low, muffled and in deep despair.
I thrashed Amanda's bottom soundly. It was a bravura performance; my anger part feigned and part transmuted lust, lending strength to my arm as I wielded the cane. How she yelped and cried! Her previous spankings had no doubt been painful but the bamboo was really hurting her. I hardened my heart and showed not the slightest sign of mercy. The cane made a delightful pattern of pink stripes across her buttocks and I laid into her with a will until I'd made her previous spankings seem like no more than caresses. She'd remember this beating for a long time! And she'd take some important lessons to heart, branded into her pliable young mind by the sting of the cane and the conditioning. Firstly, of course, she'd realise exactly how much I disapproved of unauthorised masturbation. There was a perfectly sound if somewhat selfish reason for my attitude. She was a much better fuck when she was that little bit frustrated and eager to please me, so I didn't want her taking the edge off my enjoyment by relieving herself. Secondly and hardly less subtly, the girl would realise that her new position in my household was no protection from corporal punishment. I'd been very careful in the things I'd said to her. I hadn't said that becoming a domestic servant for Vivian and I would end her spankings. I'd only said that she'd no longer have to worry about punishment inappropriate to her professional status. And that was because in her new status as maid, intimate punishment would be entirely appropriate. She would now well and truly realise that she was out of the frying pan and into fire!
It was a thoroughly chastened and contrite young blonde who knelt between my legs some fifteen minutes later. I was in need of a little relaxation after all this exercise and the delicate lapping of her pretty little tongue round my swollen cock was most enjoyable. In the wardrobe mirror I was treated to the sight of her fiery red bottom and from time to time the slow leak of silent tears joined with her kisses to wash my balls. When I finally came, squirting my juices over her face I couldn't help but feel an enormous sense of fulfilment.
There was no doubt about it. I'd done what I set out to do and what my wife wanted. Amanda's spirit was utterly and completely broken. She was our property now - nothing more. And I knew that we had just acquired a very hot piece of property indeed!
Part Ten: Cosmetic surgery
"Time we made our way indoors", Sir Peter said. "I'm getting hungry I don't know about you."
Richard agreed with his host that a spot of lunch now would be the thing and the two men set off for the manor house, with the dogs and Amanda trailing behind. They returned by way of the lakeshore and at one point, Sir Peter motioned with a stick as though he were going to throw it into the water. At the last moment he stopped himself, laughing at the expression on Amanda's face.
"She'd follow it in if I'd thrown it", he remarked to his guest, "even if it meant swimming for the thing."
Richard had little doubt that she would. He'd seen enough evidence of Amanda's obedience already.
"Still, as pretty as she looks when her uniform is soaked through, we don't want her dripping on the carpet over lunchtime."
The dogs were returned to their kennels and a dishevelled Amanda unclipped from her collar and allowed to stand up again. Her work wasn't over. Once in the dining room Amanda performed the duties of a waitress, serving up a light meal for Sir Peter and his guest. The businessman continued his story as they ate…
It so happened that with our surrogate mother finally ready for use there was a small delay in proceedings. It was because of Vivian's job. We wanted to time our child's birth so that she could have a holiday for a couple of months beforehand. That way, she'd be out of the public eye when she was supposed to be coming to term. Any suspicion that the baby might not be her own would be correspondingly reduced. But there was an important Paris show which she really wanted to attend at the key time. So we decided to defer planting a fertilised egg in Amanda's belly for another few weeks. In the meantime, a little medical check-up could do no harm.
At the end of September I rang Dr. Stebbings to make an appointment for Amanda at his Harley Street surgery. I was delighted with the progress of the girl's treatment and complimented the good doctor on the success of his exclusive therapy. In sixteen short weeks Amanda had been transformed from an outgoing, vivacious and independent young woman into an apprehensive, quiet and above all obedient little creature. Selected, seduced, spanked, and now effectively enslaved within four months: I felt that I was entitled to be pleased with myself!
The doctor was happy to give Amanda a health check and suggested an implant - a clever little miniature bloodstream monitor to make it easier to regulate her medicine.
We travelled to London in my chauffer driven Bentley. I had plans to stay in the capital for a week so that I could attend a number of important meetings and an old school friend had lent me his flat in Holland Park. The apartment would need cleaning and when Eddie didn't need Amanda she could serve as my maid and bed toy for the duration.
"The doctor is going to take care of some important business for me", I told the blonde, running my hand freely up and down her legs. "I want you to be a good little girlie and do exactly as he tells you."
She carried my cases up three flights of stairs then unpacked them and ran me a bath. There was no time to play with her so I restrained myself as I dried and dressed. We left on foot for the surgery after a light lunch.
Out on the streets I realised that this was the first time that Amanda had been exposed to any sort of outside influence since I'd assumed direct control over her at the manor house. For a moment as I took her arm I was just a little nervous. Would she try and bolt for freedom? Would she become hysterical? I needn't have worried. If I was a little nervous Amanda was positively anxious and even afraid. The conditioning had bitten deeply enough to set the pattern of her dependency and she was too confused to contemplate escape. She clung to my arm as we walked to Dr. Stebbings surgery like a little lamb being led to the slaughter. I must say I was proud of her. Or perhaps I should say I was proud of my achievements with her. If you had seen her that day, dressed smartly in shiny black open toed sandals with conservative flesh coloured tights, a trim knee length navy blue skirt and a thin cotton blouse which showed a hint of her crisp white underwear beneath you would have noticed little difference between her and a score of young women walking through the crowd. She looked like nothing more than a remarkably pretty but conventionally dressed office worker. I might have been a father, taking his daughter to lunch. How many people could have guessed that this twenty four year old, nearly thirty years my junior was in reality my thoroughly domesticated sex slave? How many people could have guessed that I had so recently achieved such complete mastery over her body and mind and enjoyed such a wide variety of intimate pleasures with them both? It would soon be time to put that delicious young body to another use - the one my wife and I had planned for so long. And in the meantime, today, we'd have a little check-up…
Dr. Stebbings' practice was in an expensively appointed group of apartment rooms on the first floor of an elegant Georgian town house. The antechamber was richly carpeted in red and green. Dark panelled wood and subdued lighting together with some tasteful and rather expensive works of art lent an air of opulence to the premises. I was pleased to recognise Carol behind the desk, dressed in exactly the same sexy clothing as she'd been wearing when Dr. Stebbings had taken her to show to me in the pub. She offered me coffee, pointedly ignoring Amanda. This etiquette was only a recognition of the proper nature of our relationship and by now Amanda was far too timid to even notice the slight. I fancied that there was a hint of contempt in Carol's attitude towards the new patient. I wondered what Amanda would think if she knew that it was this same young woman who had seduced her boyfriend and persuaded him to dump her. Perhaps one day I'd tell her!
Amanda crossed and uncrossed her legs in nervous anxiety as I sipped my drink. On this occasion her underwear was unadulterated with any itching powder, it was a simple reaction to tension.
"Oh for heaven's sake stop fidgeting Amanda!" I admonished her. She reminded me of a seven year old in the dentist's waiting room before a dreaded filling - she had the same ill defined fears and the same helpless reliance on forces outside her control. In a certain sense it was a good analogy. My lovely blonde companion had the body and mind of an adult but her conditioning had indeed reduced the all important range of her emotional responses back to the easily malleable and dependent forms of childhood. I gave her a tight smile and she bit her lip and looked at the floor.
We were soon ushered into the surgery where the doctor and three lovely nurses awaited us. Dr. Stebbings greeted me warmly and eyed Amanda up and down with evident and hungry interest.
"So this is the patient is it? An excellent choice sir, I must say. My wife has told me what a fine young specimen Amanda is but I must say that seeing her in person for the first time she has exceeded Patricia's description. I shall look forward to seeing a lot more of her - in the flesh as it were - and to working on her shortly."
He rubbed his hands in a most unpleasant manner.
"This is my senior nurse, Helen", he continued. The girl was about the same age as Amanda. She had raven dark hair cut into a neat bob above a pale and pretty face. She was wearing a white cotton dress with black stockings and shiny black high heels. It was rather a caricature of a nurse's uniform, which would never have made it into an NHS hospital! The heels were completely impractical for any sort of heavy duty work and her red lipstick wouldn't have passed regulations either. But for the doctor's private patients - the male ones at any rate - young Helen presented a highly desirable vision of nursing beauty. She might not be good for their blood pressure but she'd be good for their libido.
"Helen has been specially trained for this work", the doctor said with a wink which confirmed to me that she had been conditioned.
"Kirsty is Helen's deputy", he continued indicating the second nurse, a pretty little package perhaps two or three years older than her senior colleague. Her long strawberry blonde straggle cut hair was similar to the style Amanda had favoured but darker in colour. She was a little shorter than Helen with lean with well turned legs and a trim little bosom. Her pale blue eyes were widely set in a lily white face and she bit her lip quite fetchingly as the doctor spoke about her.
"And Sara is the junior nurse", the doctor said, concluding the introductions. The final member of his medical staff was no more than eighteen or nineteen at the outside. She was a cute teenager with short neatly styled honey blonde hair, a golden tan and powder blue eyes which she lowered demurely. Her long legs looked lovely in the regulation black nylon and her pert little breasts were fresh and firm beneath her uniform. She seemed even more nervous than Kirsty, constantly glancing at one or more of her superiors for reassurance.
"Helen is in overall charge of all the nurses but Helen and Kirsty both have responsibility for Sara's training."
Although I didn't understand the intricacies of Eddie's relationships it was quite clear to me that Carol, Helen, Kirsty and Sara were all part of his harem and more or less under his control. They were four little crackers! I had to hand it to the doctor - he certainly knew how to pick his staff!
"Now Amanda", he continued briskly, "we need to start with a routine inspection so we'd better have your clothes off. Stand still whilst Kirsty undresses you dear."
Amanda looked at me nervously but I just gave her a stern look in reply as the trim little nurse began to unbutton her blouse. My blonde maid was almost a passive manikin moving her limbs only as guided by the nurse as Kirsty methodically stripped her before our eyes. When requested she stood on one leg, bending her other knee to raise each foot in turn so that her sandals could be unbuckled. She stepped out of her skirt and tights when they'd been tugged down to her ankles and allowed her blouse and bra to be removed without protest. She was a model of obedience and I think the doctor and I both found this medical strip show quite amusing and somewhat stimulating.
"Let's have you on the couch", the doctor said to her. Amanda offered no resistance as she was led to the long tilting framework at the centre of the surgery. Once on the table, Helen took charge, lifting the patient's feet and strapping them into a pair of stirrups, which hung from the ceiling. Amanda's wrists were secured to the side of the couch with wide leather cuffs. A broad collar of nylon netting pulled taut across her neck and fastened to the framework made it impossible for her to raise her head above the low pillow which cushioned it.
"Now what have we got here…", the doctor said. He adjusted a pulley by the side of the couch to raise Amanda's legs and pull them apart. My lovely blonde acquisition was now perfectly positioned for the most intimate of examinations. Her bottom and her sex were lifted off the couch and held open by the stirrups. Her legs, stomach and bare breasts were easily available to the casual wandering hand.
"Spatula please, Helen!", Stebbings ordered his nurse. A flat steel spoon was produced from a refrigerator and the doctor proceeded to insert it between Amanda's labia pushing the delicate folds of her sex apart so that he could probe deeply within. The girl gave a cry of surprise as the cold metal touched her skin and she flinched involuntarily.
"Oh do be quiet!", I cautioned her, impatiently and she subsided into a trembling acquiescence.
"This all seems to be in order", Stebbings said at last after he had poked and prodded about to his satisfaction.
"Thermometer nurse! Now, lets have this right up your bottom my dear…"
The slick glass instrument soon found its way into Amanda's rectum.
"Very good. Now slip the headphones on the patient please Helen", the doctor ordered. I watched in some surprise as a pair of large black earpieces was fitted snugly round Amanda's ears.
"What's the purpose of that?" I queried.
"They prevent the girl from listening in on what we're saying and knowing what's going to be done to her. And, too there are some low frequency sounds containing coded messages that help to complement the ones in her standard program. With an hour or so of the headphones we can test the absent language protocol."
"The absent language protocol?"
"I'll explain it later", he said. "Now, have you considered having the bitch depilated?", the doctor asked me. "Many men prefer a nice smooth cunt and I must say I agree with them. Of course you can always keep a wench clean shaven or have her waxed on a regular basis but I can offer you a more permanent option if you're interested."
As he spoke he moved up to Amanda's chest and began to handle her breasts with all the appearance of professional indifference, hefting the soft young flesh between his palms and running his thumbs over her nipples. I noticed that his manner towards Amanda had become markedly cooler and more vulgar now that she could no longer hear us, treating her like an object rather than a person. The front of his trousers, however, belied the signs of clinical detachment. The doctor was clearly becoming rather aroused by the delights of Amanda's fine young body and I have to say that I was finding the whole experience somewhat stimulating myself and wondering if I would get a chance for a frolic with one of the delectable little nurses.
"What would that involve?" I asked.
"Well, I have perfected a treatment for the permanent removal of unsightly pubic hair. It's rather a long drawn out process I'm afraid but I think the end result is worth it - always assuming that you can spare Amanda for a couple of hours on three separate occasions before we do the implant."
I thought about it carefully. The medical implant was the only treatment we'd discussed. I hadn't expected that Amanda would be making more than one visit to the surgery. But did that really matter? I was here for a week so there'd probably be time to fit in the extra appointments.
"The way it works is that the patient is stimulated in the sensitive area to ensure a flow of blood through the nerve endings", the doctor explained. "Each hair is then stretched to the point of breaking and a small electric shock applied to the skin at the same instant that it is pulled out by the roots. I gather that the effect is exquisitely painful but the result is that the root is killed completely and the hair does not re-grow. The only problem is that the sting of the excision tends to cancel the swelling of the flesh caused by her arousal so the patient has to be repeatedly brought back to the point of orgasm before each hair can be harvested. Of course, she mustn't be allowed to achieve a climax during the process or it delays the whole thing even more…"
"Sounds intriguing", I admitted.
"Yes, well it is. A perfectly routine operation though. In fact I've trained my nurses to perform it in pairs (with some supervision from me). Apart from little Sara, all my staff have been through the process from the side of the patient so they know how it feels!
The only thing is that we will require three sessions. That's because a young woman can't really stand the treatment for too long at one time."
I mentioned my business plans to the doctor.
"I don't see why we can't fit Amanda in on Wednesday and Friday for the follow up sessions", he said.
"Oh why not then? I must admit it would be convenient to have the girl's pussy nice and bare for me."
"Excellent", the doctor replied. "Then I suggest we devote this afternoon entirely to your case. I have no other appointments so I shall tell Carol to shut the office and join us."
This was no sooner said than done. The sexy secretary went to sit on a low stool in the corner of the examination room, smoothing her short skirt somewhat ineffectively up to the sheer black nylon that clung to her knees. It was quite plain that Eddie liked his girls in black hosiery! All four pairs of legs were sheathed in dark nylon of one form or another ranging from the nearly transparent sheer shade that adorned Carol's limbs to the virtually opaque style of Sara's stockings, which would not have looked out of place in a schoolgirl's uniform and somehow made the pretty student look a year or two younger than her calendar age. In between, Kirsty's tights were of a more conventional thickness, not so sheer as Carol's but still barely allowing the pale flesh tones beneath to colour her legs, whilst Helen's were a darker black with a hint of blue, still finely meshed but closer to opaque. All black hosiery, yes, but in four delightful varieties.
Helen took a syringe and injected some clear fluid into Amanda's left arm below the shoulder.
"That's a special cocktail which is perfect for this treatment", the doctor commented. "But we mustn't forget that we're going to kill two birds with one stone here. The main item on the agenda is your semen contribution. I'll need a sample to fertilise Vivian's egg. One of the nurses can take care of that whilst the other two start work on Amanda's depilation. I believe in offering my clients the opportunity to combine business and pleasure in the matter of sperm donation. I think you might find it enjoyable and helpful to witness at least a little of Amanda's treatment whilst your chosen nurse attends you. Why don't you select the one you'd like to help you with the donation?"
Now there was an offer and I considered it carefully! Any one of them would make quite a pleasant aid for my donation. Helen's svelte figure and classically chiselled face looked stern on the surface but a wicked twinkle in her eye promised some fun underneath her uniform and a level of sophistication unmatched by the other nurses. Kirsty was a top notch package with an intriguingly firm pair of tits, lovely legs and a trim bottom. Sara had the benefit of youth in her fresh young form adorned with a pleasing veneer of insecure elegance.
After some deliberation I elected to have Kirsty attend to my needs. There was something about her understated but luscious little body that reminded me somewhat of a slightly older version of Amanda.
Helen and Sara began. The blonde teenager placed a large cushion beneath Amanda's bottom so that her pubic area was forced into the air, prominently displayed and accessible for them to work on.
The doctor and I took seats at the foot of the couch in a prime position to observe the operation. "Turn the monitoring on, please Carol", he ordered. His secretary went round the room and adjusted the controls on four video cameras fixed into wall and ceiling brackets. A television screen by the side of the couch came to life, showing a clear picture of Amanda's nervous young face in close up. This removed the obstacle of natural geometry and allowed us to study her reactions to the coming operation in some detail, even though the collar round her neck prevented the patient from raising her head and so denied her any opportunity for symmetrical rights.
"I often keep records of some of my more interesting cases", Eddie Stebbings told me. "Strictly for the purposes of medical science, you understand", he said with a wink. "Of course, as Amanda's employer, you'd be entitled to a copy for yourself."
It was Sara's job to stimulate Amanda, whilst Helen wielded the electric needle that would sterilise the root of each pubic hair. They worked from opposite sides, straddling Amanda's left and right leg respectively and it took an interesting few seconds for them to assume their places. Amanda's legs had first to be lowered in the stirrups and Carol then fetched a high stool from the corner of the room and placed it under Amanda's right knee. Sara now positioned herself on top of the stool, her legs scissoring over Amanda's knee and her own knees dimpling the black leather upholstery. She bent forward so that her lips and tongue could make contact with Amanda's clearly displayed sex. Perched in this situation, the back of Sara's white uniform dress now rode up high enough to let me see quite clearly the tops of her self support stockings and the pale tautness of her bare bottom thrust up above the stool. Noting my interest the doctor remarked that he didn't allow Sara to wear any knickers. As a trainee it was often necessary to punish her and knickers would prevent easy access to her bottom. This seemed like a sound policy.
Whilst Sara was getting into position, Helen straddled Amanda's left leg, raising her own right leg high to slide it over my maid's bare limb. I must say that she managed this awkward manoeuvre with considerable grace, succeeding in retaining her high heel shoe despite the fact that it slipped away from her heel for a brief moment. Nevertheless I was granted an intriguing glimpse of the shadowed interior of her stocking clad thighs, before she was safely astride the patient. A moment later her poise was disturbed rather brutally when at a signal from the doctor, Carol pulled a cord that raised Amanda's leg up high again, this time pressing forcefully into the raven haired nurse's crotch to the extent of obliging her to stand on tip toes with a gasp and an eye watering gurgle. I caught a naughty twinkle in the secretary's eyes and she even flashed me an impish and flirtatious smile as she lowered Amanda's limb a little until Helen was just able to stand squarely in her high heels again. Even so the senior nurse must still have been acutely conscious of the pressure of Amanda's upper thigh between her legs.
Kirsty started her work as we watched. The strawberry blonde nurse, cautiously removed my trousers and with long delicate fingers, rolled a thin rubber membrane carefully round my rapidly swelling member. A sample bottle was connected to the end of the tubing so that my ejaculates could be collected to fertilise my wife's egg. I reached for her stocking clad thighs and ran my hands up and down them. She sat on my lap and I treated her to a little kiss.
"Come here now Carol", the doctor ordered his secretary. "I think I'll have some rectal fun with you whilst Peter and I watch Amanda's operation. Skirt, shoes, tights and knickers off please, dear, quick as you can. Then bend over that chair and hands flat to the floor! Hurry up now!"
I was very impressed by Carol's unquestioning and rapid obedience. One day I hoped that Amanda would be as well trained as this sexy brunette. Despite all the quality female flesh on display in that surgery, Carol was probably the best - the finest tits and the cutest arse with a very winsome face - she could have been a model on Vivian's books if she'd ever had the inclination (and if she hadn't fallen into the doctors Stebbings' clutches of course!) So to see her comply so readily with Eddie's casual authority over her body was arousing in its own right.
The doctor eased Carol's buttocks apart with thumb and forefinger then slipped his length deep into the cushion of her plump but firm little bottom with a sigh of pleasure. He shuffled into a more comfortable position. The unfortunate receptionist must have been far from comfortable with her fingers pressed to the floor and the blood rushing to her head.
"When the nurses are all busy and I need a little relief I like to make use of Carol as a convenient little cum dump", he said. "She wears a butt plug to bed every night to keep her back passage open so it's easy to bugger her."
I said nothing, but stroked Kirsty's lovely legs and wondered how long I could last before I'd be filling the sample bottle. The doctor nodded to Helen, who gave Sara a sharp tap on the rump. The work began. In the monitor I watched Amanda bite her lip suddenly as Sara applied her tongue to the patient's sex, licking, kissing and nibbling at the sensitive skin. My blonde victim hadn't been able to hear about the depilation and so she had no idea what was in store for her. She'd clearly been growing nervous but was quite unable to leave the couch. Helen's left hand reached out and began to stroke Amanda's taut young stomach, making light circles round her navel. The deep plum coloured nail varnish, hard shiny and sophisticated, contrasted most pleasingly with the pale tension of the soft and innocent skin beneath. There was a detectable quiver in Amanda's smooth indrawn belly - something with a frequency higher than breathing and higher even than the pounding of her anxious heart. I suspecting it was a tiny muscular spasm brought on by stress and arousal, for there was no doubt about it, Sara's work was beginning to have an effect on her.
I took Kirtsy's left hand and opened it up gently, stroking each of the digits as I pushed my own between them. The little blonde nurse had sensitive fingers. Was that the faint impression of an absent wedding ring I detected? I guided her hand down to my cock and closed it round the shaft. She started to masturbate me.
Helen's right hand reached into the top pocket of her uniform and produced a long thin metal instrument with a prominent black switch at the back. I deduced correctly that this was the electric probe that would be used to depilate Amanda but whether the unfortunate blonde could guess its purpose I had no way of knowing. I did see Amanda's eyes widen appreciably when Helen made a play of stroking her under the chin with the ominous looking tool before bending over to give her a teasingly malicious kiss on the nose.
Now Helen stopped circling the blonde's belly and selected one of Amanda's pubic hairs with her left hand. She wound it round her middle finger and pulled it so that the underlying flesh was stretched into a painful tent of moist skin and nerve endings. Amanda's sex was puffy and pink, oozing an involuntary, fearful sexual arousal. Sara had brought her almost to the point of no return but Amanda clearly knew that it was Helen who was in charge. She looked up at the senior nurse with an expression of silent pleading, eyes fixed on her tormentor like a doe before the hunter. It wasn't obvious what she was pleading for. But it was quite obvious what she got!
A number of events now happened in rapid succession. Without relinquishing her hold on the electric probe, Helen used her right hand to pull Sara's head away from Amanda's pubic mound, tugging on the teenager's short blonde hair to achieve obedience. Then in one fluid motion she brought the probe to bear at the base of her chosen pubic hair, flicking the switch to impart a fearful little electric shock as she simultaneously pulled it out by the root. That hair would never re-grow!
Amanda gave a loud squeal of anguish. Her right leg bucked in a reflex spasm pressing firmly between Helen's legs. This might have been painful or arousing. Watching the raven-haired beauty's face I caught a shudder of desire and could only conclude that in some perverse way Helen took pleasure from the enforced intimate contact between her sex and Amanda's bare upper thigh.
I'd been stroking Kirsty's flanks and beneath her crisp white uniform and a lacy white bra and I'd discovered a succulent little right breast. I squeezed it now. Hard. In turn, Kirsty applied the most delightful pressure to my rod and less than two seconds after Amanda had been so cruelly denied her orgasm I had my own, ejaculating cleanly and copiously into the sample bottle. The doctor gave a grunt of pleasure and I realised that he was filling Carol's bottom with his own seed.
"One down, three hundred to go!" he said with a chuckle as we all subsided. And sure enough Sara was already back at work stimulating the flow of blood to Amanda's sex in her own very sweet way.
Now that my sample was safely stored I was free to enjoy my pet nurse in a more straightforward manner. Seeing the way that Eddie was using Carol put me in mind of some similar fun so I had Kirsty strip naked then bend over the chair and offer her rump to me. Studying her lilywhite arse so submissively presented, soon had my member rigid again. It was a delightful sensation to sink my pole into the tight hole at the heart of her soft bottom.
I was astonished by the speed with which Amanda was being aroused again and guessed correctly that it was an effect of the injection Helen had administered. I had only just settled comfortably in my new seat when Helen plucked Amanda's second pubic hair, once again denying the lovely blonde an imminent orgasm.
This time Amanda's anguished yelp subsided into prolonged sobs.
"Oh for goodness sake, silence the bitch can't you Helen!" the doctor complained.
The senior nurse reached to the table where Amanda's clothing had been discarded and found the scrap of white cotton cloth that had been her panties. I watched on the monitor as she leaned forward again and with an apparently lazy ease, pinched Amanda's nose and held it closed until the girl was forced to open her mouth wide to breath. At this point her panties were pushed down her throat and her lips fastened with white surgical sticky tape. Nothing more than muffled moans and the odd gurgle could make its way past that.
As Sara began to prepare Amanda for the removal of her third pubic hair I saw my lovely possession's hands clench and unclench with mixed arousal and fear. She knew what was going to happen now but it wouldn't make the experience any more bearable! On the contrary, the anticipation of the electric shock in her sex must have been almost as bad for the poor girl as the actual shock itself. Amanda's eyes were wide, her breathing shallow through her nose as her mouth slowly moistened the gag of her panties. Her nipples were stiff and her sex swollen. She was acutely sensitive to every nuance of her ordeal.
Helen took her time selecting the third hair, dallying over different choices and tormenting Amanda by prolonging the moment. I felt my cock twitch inside Kirsty's bottom in anticipation. And when the excision happened I wasn't disappointed. Amanda's body convulsed with the energy of her truncated desire and once again her thigh pressed forcefully between Helen's legs and seemed to give the nurse some perverse reward.
As work commenced on the fourth hair I asked the doctor how he managed his staff so effectively.
"If you want to discuss confidential matters we'd better take a little security precaution", he began. "Carol. Code Babel On. Nurses. Code Babel On."
Each of the lovely young women replied in turn.
"Code Babel acknowledge"
The doctor explained that this was part of the absent language protocol, a special feature of his conditioning technique.
"When the girls have acknowledged the code the are no longer capable of understanding what we are saying until I speak the reverse code. You should be able to do this with Amanda too after today's session because at the same time as she's being depilated she's getting a good dose of subliminal treatment through her headphones.
I don't mind discussing most things in front of my staff. Even though they are all more or less aware of how I control them they can't do anything much about it. But there are some refinements of my techniques which work more effectively when they're ignorant so a little privacy like this is useful."
He paused momentarily as we watched Amanda spasm and gurgle whilst the fourth hair was removed. I came in Kirsty's bottom. My own thoroughly satisfying orgasm was neatly synchronised with the denial of my blonde pet. Kirsty bucked under me, her firmly skewered buttocks making a delightfully soft pillow for my loins. I had the feeling that the pretty nurse wanted to escape but I'd no intention of letting her go. I squeezed her breasts firmly and her struggling subsided.
"Excuse me a moment", the doctor said. He lifted himself and thrust powerfully back into his secretary's pert little bum. Carol gasped and then the luscious young brunette was receiving a second generous dose of her boss's spunk inside her tight back passage.
The fifth hair had been removed whilst we men were enjoying ourselves with the pair of naked women the doctor had provided for our comfort. Work was starting on the sixth hair.
"Now to answer your question", the doctor said, "the key to keeping my stock of pretty bitches in line, lies principally in exercising total control over their sexual pleasure. It's exactly the same as I've been teaching you to do with Amanda but I'm further down the road with these beauties. None of 'em has a boyfriend or a partner of any kind. That was the first thing I had to sort out. Carol and Kirsty, whose soft little bottoms we're enjoying, were both happily married young ladies when I first employed them. I arranged for them to be separated and divorced. In Carol's case I sorted out a suitable replacement for her husband. Kirsty's husband received some interesting photos of his wife being pleasured by Helen. In both cases the men were soon resolved to be rid of their wives though not without a few tears from them. I was here to pick up the pieces and assume command of their bodies. Sara hasn't been with me for very long as yet so I've only got as far as isolating her and beginning a little light lesbian conditioning. The others are now fully fledged bi-sexuals with fixations for one another's bodies which ensure that they are more or less constantly aroused. And I've made sure that despite this sexual reorientation they continue to prefer cock to pussy when they can get it, so they're more anxious to please me than to please one another.
I maintain a rigid dominance hierarchy with a complex set of rules and a variety of penalties for transgressions. Helen is at the top of the chain. She has authority not only over Kirsty and Sara but also over Carol. She has the duty of helping to enforce my instructions and I allow her certain privileges to reflect that status. For instance, she's the only member of my staff permitted to masturbate without supervision. I also let her use Kirsty for sexual release in whatever way she likes. Kirsty's been conditioned to feel a special attraction to Helen - she's totally dominated by her younger boss. I haven't granted Helen the same right to punish or pleasure my secretary in private but on a couple of occasions I've let her spank Carol under supervision. I think Carol dreads the prospect of being put under Helen's more intimate authority. She sees the way that Helen controls and disciplines Kirsty. I know Helen would relish the chance to use and abuse Carol in the same way. I like to play with this tension, teasing both girls with that threat and promise. Sara is there to provide Carol and Kirsty with an outlet for their own stresses. I give them both opportunities to spank her and she's learning to please with her tongue and lips! So all in all my four girls are a very interesting little collection and a source of much pleasure. Not that I object to the opportunity for an occasional added extra when the chance is presented to me. I'm rather hoping you'll let me sample your maid's pretty body!
Now that you have Amanda fairly well tamed the route I'd recommend you take with her next is to enforce even stricter control over her pleasure. She should be made to realise that there is no pleasure for her except through pleasing you, and you must become more demanding in the standards of sexual performance you expect from her. A bit of denial is good for her now. By all means enjoy yourself with her mouth and bottom but see that her own orgasms are limited to the times when you permit it and that you permit it infrequently. Believe me, she'll soon be craving your cock like she's addicted to it and she'll make special efforts to gratify you just for the chance of permission to climax. It'll be worth it!"
I listened to this advice with considerable interest and resolved to follow it.
At that moment there was something of a hiatus in the proceedings. Sara made a mistake in her treatment and allowed Amanda to climax. No sooner had this happened than Helen stepped in, in a most forceful manner! Sara gave a loud squeak of surprise as her bottom received a very sharp slap, quickly followed up by three more considered but equally hard blows.
"That's enough", the doctor said. He stood up and went over to the trembling teenager. His words to Sara were low but they carried.
"If you let the patient orgasm again, girl, I shall take the strap to your fat little arse and you won't sit down for a week!"
Even as he was talking, Helen was already working hard to arouse Amanda again, her fingers flickering skilfully inside the over stimulated blonde. My maid was stunned and at least temporarily exhausted. It was clear that the procedure of depilating her would be delayed by Sara's careless behaviour but already I detected signs that Helen was succeeding in restoring blood flow to Amanda's labia. The doctor signalled for Kirsty and Carol to help Helen by taking their station at either side of Amanda and sucking on a nipple each. This provoked a muffled moan of despair from the helpless blonde. I'd no doubt that the girls would claim more hairs before long!
I glanced at my watch and realised with a start that I had another appointment at the bank in half an hour. Although under other circumstances I am sure I would have enjoyed staying to watch the rest of Amanda's treatment it was time for me to go. If I were honest too, I'd have to admit that another two hours of witnessing those delectable nurses inflicting their cruel sexual management on my helpless maid might have been more than flesh and blood could stand. I'd already favoured Kirsty with a good dose of spunk and I'm not so young as I used to be. A short break for recuperation wouldn't hurt me. And in any case, I'd be able to see the video footage later.
I took my leave, knowing that Amanda was in good hands and promising to return to collect her at five o'clock.
"Feel free to roger the bitch if you want to", I said to the good doctor. Rather to my surprise he declined my parting offer.
"She looks delightful but I'll wait until next session, Sir Peter", he said. "This time, I think you ought to enjoy the benefits of finally taking the girl over the top. I can promise you it's quite an experience when a little tart's been warmed up by a long session of brinkmanship such as yours is going to have to endure this afternoon. I've already had the pleasure of taking Carol and Kirsty in that state. You must sample Amanda hot off the table and let me know what you think."
I went to the bank, then on to the shops and returned to the doctor's offices at exactly five o'clock, relaxed and interested. The nurses were finished with my ex P.A. and she was dressed again in her demure outfit but I detected a significant trembling in her legs as I kissed her. Her face was pale and drawn and her heart was fluttering.
"We've made good progress", the doctor said. "Another two sessions will finish her. Now take her home and give her a seeing too. She needs it!"
Helen gave me a mischievous wink and patted the blonde on the bottom, making her start like a frightened rabbit despite all the more intimate touching she had so recently been put through.
I had never seen Amanda quite so frantically aroused and frenzied for a proper quenching as the poor girl was that evening when we returned to the flat in Holland Park. It was a good job I'd taken some tablets to sustain me. She'd have exhausted many a man much younger than myself and without chemical assistance I couldn't have seen the evening through.
Amanda fucked like a wild animal, with total abandon and no evidence of higher thought patterns at all. She spread her legs wider than she'd been able to before I'd sent her to the gym and fucked with every ounce of her being, thrusting her hips against me as though her life depended on it. She wriggled, writhed and thrashed on the bed. Her climaxes were spasms of the most mind shattering intensity and she experienced a sequence of them, the like of which I had never imagined. Some occurred with my prick ploughing her desperately clenching cunt, others with my organ deep inside her bottom as she pushed her buttocks firmly back against me to let it fully invade her recently stretched anal passage. Later as I flooded her mouth, her own fingers (with my permission) were the agent of febrile stimulation and she came again.
We both slept soundly and woke late. The following day was a quiet one. Amanda was very subdued and thoughtful, even by her recent standards of enhanced docility. She'd spent a lot of time indoors recently and I thought a bit of fresh air would do her some good. We went for a walk in Regents park, the sharp autumn sunshine and the chilly autumn air both getting a chance to play across her bare legs. I kept my arm firmly linked through hers just in case she had any ideas of exercising more freedom than I wished to grant her. We had lunch at a small Italian restaurant where I chose the menu for both of us. I explained to the girl that there would be two more sessions of treatment, with the first starting on the following afternoon.
"I don't understand why" she offered in soft voiced apprehension. It was very unusual for her to question me now, even in this timid and indirect manner. Since she'd been reassigned to domestic duties my former P.A. had been generally very well behaved and especially so following the caning when I'd caught her masturbating. She seldom spoke without permission now and this was the first time she had dared to so much as voice an opinion on anything I said in a very long time.
"Basic hygiene Amanda", I told her. "We need to keep you clean, don't we?"
"But it's really horrible!" she protested. "And I don't like the doctor. He gives me the creeps. I think he's frightening."
This shouldn't have surprised me. Amanda's conditioning was focused on my wife and myself. She couldn't be expected to find Dr. Stebbings portly and aging figure as attractive as the ones she had been programmed to fixate upon. What I hadn't anticipated was that she plainly found him repulsive and rightly if unconsciously seemed to sense he was the focus of all her troubles. Not that it mattered. At the end of the day obedience conditioning was as significant as sexual reorientation. She would do as the doctor said because I'd instruct her to. And Dr. Stebbings obviously had no problems arousing Amanda whatever the strength of her revulsion.
"Nonsense!" I said firmly. "Dr. Stebbings and the nurses are just doing their job. You mustn't be so squeamish. Try to be adult about it."
That night we retired to bed early and without any sexual playtime. I was content just to savour the warmth of Amanda's naked body, like a living hot water bottle. She shivered a little under my touch and I knew she was worrying about the next day. I don't think she slept well.
"Please don't send me back to the doctors today master!"
Amanda's first words on the following morning came whilst I was idly fondling the blonde's left breast under the sheets, without passion as yet but with some enjoyment of the feel of the softly yielding gland as my fingers squeezed and kneaded it.
"You'll do as you're told Amanda", I responded mildly.
"I don't think I can stand another session like that! Really I can't!"
I bent over to kiss her, noting a watering at the corners of her eyes.
"Don't be silly!" I said, lying back again.
Her pitiful pleading was quite touching but did nothing to affect my resolve.
"I assume that you don't want another caning?" I offered firmly, pinching her nipple at the same time.
"N… n… no master"
"Then you'll do as you're told. And one other thing Amanda. I've asked Dr. Stebbings to assess your sexual health to determine whether there is anything else that can be done to manage your urges. He'll probably need to test your reactions to intercourse and to various modes of penetration. I expect you to co-operate with him."
She was resigned to it now and meek as a lamb, although as I kissed her again I saw silent tears welling in her eyes. What an excellent instrument of control the cane was proving to be!
When I picked Amanda up from surgery in the evening she was rather different from the desperately over excited young lady I'd had the pleasure of taking back to the flat after the doctor's first session with her. This time she was quiet and very biddable - less like a frantic wild animal and more like a thoroughly domesticated one. I put the change in her behaviour down to the doctor's "tests". She clung to my arms in a very fetching way, positively glad to see me.
"I trust Amanda has been behaving herself?", I asked Dr. Stebbings.
"Not entirely", Eddie answered with a grim smile. "But I think we've made good progress, nevertheless."
"And have you come to any conclusions about Amanda's little problem?"
"Well… I have some interesting preliminary results but no diagnosis yet, I'm afraid. I think we'll need to conduct more tests when the surgery is finished on Friday." He gave me a lecherous wink. Helen was smiling too and there was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
"Of course, of course", I said magnanimously, ignoring the convulsive shudder from my pretty blonde maid. "You must do what you think best. It's in Amanda's own interest after all."
I was half way down the stairs when Sara came scampering after me. The curvy blonde teenager looked flustered and tongue-tied.
"I… forgot something sir", she said, apologetic and blushing. "The doctor said you were to have this and that you might like to view it tonight. It's a record of this afternoon's treatment session."
She handed me a DVD, which I pocketed with a smile. I gave her trim little bottom a departing swipe which made her jump and squeak with surprise as she scurried back to her boss. No doubt the doctor would have a few more 'words' with the silly piece on the importance of efficient and businesslike behaviour. Sara was a tasty little morsel and of an age and inexperience that must have made her a piece of cake to dominate compared with the patience and guile that had been required to break Helen, Carol or Kirsty. Even so, I expect she still needed punishing from time to time to mould her malleable young mind in the right way.
I thought it might be fun to review the record of Amanda's latest humiliation that same evening and I was right. After a light meal, I instructed the blonde to strip and set the television up so that we could both watch it from the comfort of the bed where I was free to toy with my maid's body and mind whilst we watched her afternoon ordeal. As she bent to load the DVD into the player I was intrigued to observe that Amanda's bottom was decorated with the evidence of a recent sound thrashing. Perhaps that explained her humble relief when I 'rescued' her at the end of the session. Poor girl! The intimidating thought of punishment at my hands, which had compelled her into accepting a second session of treatment, plainly hadn't saved her from a good hiding at the hands of the doctor.
The footage of Amanda's depilation and subsequent sexual use and abuse in the doctor's waiting room was really rather good. Considering there'd been no time to edit the images it was remarkably compelling viewing. There were parallel channels from four cameras with auto focusing which had achieved pin sharp pictures of the patient's face and body. I was able to switch between these records at will with my right hand on the remote control as my left hand caressed the living body of the real thing.
"Tsk, tsk", I commented idly as Amanda squirmed in embarrassment beside me. "It seems like you had quite an afternoon!"
And so had the doctor! The depilation was amusing enough but the scenes where Amanda's sexual responsiveness was under test were most the most arousing. I now saw how her buttocks had picked up their red stripes. Obliged to straddle Eddie Stebbings on the couch, Amanda had bucked and writhed with his prick buried to the hilt inside her, charged not only with the intense sexual frustration that the prolonged depilation had provoked but also with the sting of the cane which Helen was administering to her bottom as the doctor fucked her. The pretty raven haired nurse laid into her blonde patient with a will! Helen's diminutive stature did not diminish the strength of her arm. Poor Kirsty and Sara would certainly suffer if they crossed Helen and I could understand why Carol was so anxious to avoid being put under the senior nurse's direct authority.
I couldn't take much more of these scenes without some relief myself. Amanda was tired and emotionally drained but my wandering hand stroking her trembling body as we viewed her abuse had restored sufficient sexual energy to the girl to meet my needs. She spread her legs obediently when ordered, moist and ready to receive me. So the evening ended in a long slow and satisfying coupling after which we both slept soundly.
I dropped Amanda off at the surgery on Friday afternoon and gave the doctor permission to keep her in overnight. There was still much to do and she wouldn't be ready for me to pick up until Saturday afternoon. Her depilation had to be completed of course and there was also some minor surgery to be conducted, the main reason why I'd brought Amanda to London to begin with. That would be the first part of the proceedings. Helen and Kirsty took charge of the patient straight away, undressing her and preparing her for the operating theatre. I was amused to see how readily Amanda surrendered to the pretty nurses. They'd obviously accustomed her to accepting their authority almost as easily as she accepted mine. Amanda was instructed to lie on a trolley then Helen pressed a mask to her face which covered her mouth and nose and was connected to a gas bottle on a shelf underneath. For a few seconds the expression of surprise in the girl's wide blue eyes looked as though it might turn to a fluttering panic. No one had explained anything about the forthcoming operation to Amanda and she must have expected only the rigours of the depilation. Kirsty pressed down firmly on her chest as she struggled to raise her head. I caught a last look of alarm and bewilderment and then a couple of breaths later the girl slipped into unconsciousness.
When she'd been wheeled into the operating theatre, the doctor showed me an example of the device which he would be implanting into Amanda's body. It was a small metal slug, roughly the size of the tip of my little finger. Modern science had succeeded in packing an awful lot of technology into that small volume. Near the top of the cylinder there was a small valve. He explained that after the operation the valve would fit flush with Amanda's skin at the back of her neck. It was possible to inject small quantities of drugs into the implant via the valve and they were then stored in two internal high-pressure reservoirs. The main purpose of the implant was to monitor the concentration of chemicals in Amanda's blood stream and to ensure that, as and when required, her medicine was topped up from the reserves. To this end, the device contained a number of sensitive microscopic detectors.
"It can all be controlled from your PC", Dr. Stebbings told me. "The implant will warn you when the reservoirs needs refuelling, long before there's any danger of your girl's bloodstream running too low a concentration of drugs. It also acts in a cruder way as a simple tracking device. I believe the idea is adapted from new livestock management techniques in the States. You'll be able to keep track of where the bitch is at all times and set the system to issue an alarm and a dose of tranquillisers if she ever wanders out of a preset range; quite a handy little security device. I know you have your property nicely in hand at the moment but there may come a time when you'll appreciate the extra security.
Although the simple will weakening drugs you've been using so far can be administered in food and drink, there's an extra benefit to the implant which simply isn't possible without it. With continuous monitoring it's possible to keep very tight control over a girl's level of arousal. If we classify the moment of orgasm as ten out of ten, you can set upper and lower permitted limits for a range of times. The system is very sensitive to the signatures of the neurochemical events that mediate a girl's sexual responsiveness. If it detects that her body is moving outside the prescribed limits it adds dampeners or stimulators as appropriate. They are very fast acting and they can prevent orgasms 99% of the time before the nerves pass the point of no return. There are some limitations imposed by the constraints of biochemistry and basic resource availability but not many. You can prolong orgasm for many minutes by setting the lower limit to ten, but it doesn't work indefinitely. It's quite fun to have a girl spasming out of control until she faints with pleasure. Or if you set a high lower limit but a narrow band to an upper limit short of climax, she'll be kept highly aroused but unable to come and very, very frustrated. That can be fun too."
I left the doctor to his work and returned next day after lunch for a final consultation. Amanda was paraded naked for my inspection. She'd been recently bathed and her hair was washed and blow-dried. Helen marched the blonde round the room a couple of times then left her to await a more intimate assessment. She stood in the surgery with her legs apart, face turned to the floor and hands behind her back.
I stroked the girl's bare cunt to study the success of the cosmetic work. This provoked a shuffling of feet and some rather amusing frantic little mewling noises from my pretty pet. The flesh was acutely swollen and quickly moistened with desire. But it wasn't the time or place to indulge myself. I'd fuck her later when I got her home. For now I was content to revel in this new evidence of my total dominance and in the satisfaction of knowing that no trace of pubic hair would ever re-grow for the remainder of the bitch's natural life. From now on, Amanda's sex would always be baby smooth all over; soft, pliant, and totally hairless. I liked it that way.
I went to stand behind her and ran my hand up the back of her neck. It didn't show at all but below her long golden tresses I could now feel the tiny metal button that gave access to the new implant. Pushing her hair aside the small valve could be seen; neat, flush against the skin into the spine and practical. A tiny circular switch redirected different substances for the different forms of chemical control into different internal reservoirs. Helen demonstrated the correct way to fill the drug reservoirs with a straightforward injection.
Then Amanda was taken away to be dressed, prior to accompanying me into the doctor's inner office to hear his conclusions. In five minutes she was ready for contact with respectable society, looking demure but still alluring even in simple flesh coloured tights, a plain black skirt and a black cotton blouse. We sat in front of Dr. Stebbings desk to hear a little lecture on Amanda's medical condition designed solely for her ears to reinforce the stories I'd been feeding her.
"You were quite correct in your layman's diagnosis" the doctor began pompously. "I've been able to confirm it with some proper medical tests and I can better judge the extent of the problem. Miss Jenkins is suffering from advanced nymphomania. Put simply, her sexual cravings are excessive, badly focused, and far too frequent. Obviously this wasn't apparent, Sir Peter, when you employed her or took her as your mistress and I can sympathise with the resultant difficulties you must have experienced. You were right to bring her here. Her urges must be brought under control if she's to work properly in your household. It's lucky for you, young lady, that your employer is such an understanding and thoughtful man. Lots of men in his position would have given up on you.
Now I recommend a course of drugs which can now be administered though the implant and continued aversion therapy. You say your wife is helping you? Very good. Corporal punishment will do Miss Jenkins no harm if she strays from the path. Let's see how she's progressed in six weeks shall we? I'll pay a house call and check up on her."
He couldn't resist a lecherous smirk at that point and I smiled too. We'd all agreed that six weeks would be the right time to plant our baby in Amanda's womb.
I was very pleased with the results of my brief visit to the capital for a number of reasons. Firstly there was the obvious one. The implant would certainly make it more convenient to keep the girl firmly under our control and she even thought there was a legitimate reason for her medicine.
Secondly, the installation of the absent language protocol was a boon. On the Saturday morning Dr. Stebbings spent some time testing my little blonde bitch in 'Code Babel' mode. By carefully observing the dilation of her pupils and the patterns of her brain waves as he asked her questions and made provocative and emotive assertions he was able to verify that this new special conditioning had taken hold properly. I now had no need to worry about Amanda understanding anything I didn't want her to hear. An effective level of censorship would block it in her own frontal lobes.
Thirdly the cosmetic surgery was something of a bonus. I hadn't expected to have the girl so thoroughly depilated but it certainly improved her appearance.
Last but certainly not least there were the psychological benefits of the trip. Amanda had developed such an aversion to the doctor and fear of his cruel nurses that my own treatment of her felt positively benign. She was grateful for my relatively 'normal' abuses and she had now formed an unfortunate association between the world outside the manor house and an exceptionally unpleasant experience. This worked on a growing timidity to make her apprehensive of future excursions. It put a subtle subconscious psychological block in place, which would help to dampen any possible future desire for escape.
As I drove her back to the manor house I was even considering some of the other options the doctor had offered…
Part Eleven: Artificial Insemination
Amanda was a sex slave now in everything but name. She continued to work as our maid but her lithe young body was frequently put to other more intimate uses by my wife and I. Mrs. Tibbs was a great help in keeping the humbled blonde exercised and disciplined. Amanda quickly learned to fear the displeasure of the housekeeper and the importance of following her instructions promptly and thoroughly. I'm afraid she had to suffer the occasional sound strapping whilst she was receiving training in the more complex duties, such as the proper etiquette for setting the table and the correct way to help her master and mistress dress in the mornings. But she's a bright girl and she only made those mistakes once!
The trip to London had produced some subtle but profound improvements in Miss Jenkins' attitude. Before our visit to the doctor she'd been cowed, obedient and submissive but there was a residual core of independence which occasionally reared its head and made her management mildly inconvenient. But after the doctor had treated her, she seemed almost unable to contemplate defiance, let alone carry it out.
When my wife and I had the leisure to view the DVD of Amanda's concluding session with the doctor and his sexy staff it proved to be an intensely erotic record, the most varied and arousing of the three episodes in which my maid was the reluctant star. I'll let you have a copy later if you'd like.
After she'd came round from the operation Amanda had been given a thorough and systematic workout, supervised closely through a series of press-ups, sit-ups and other exercises which she was obliged to perform naked. I was reminded of Patricia Stebbings initial medical review, but this examination was altogether more demanding. I've no doubt that Amanda benefited from the programme she'd had undergone at the company gym after she'd first joined my staff. Her fitness was certainly well tested.
The taxing physical exercises alternated with a wide range of challenging sexual ones. Under Eddie Stebbings close supervision his secretary and his nurses were all employed to put Amanda through her paces. She was obliged to kiss each of the women in turn and then to apply her tongue to their cute little snatches and bring them off. I found the sight of Carol wriggling on top of Amanda particularly amusing, knowing as I did that the sweet sexual organ my erstwhile P.A. was serving so diligently was the very one which had lured her boyfriend away from the pleasures of Amanda's own sex. At least the doctor's secretary returned the favour and licked my pretty blonde plaything into an electrifying orgasm, concluding with an outrageous wink to the camera. But Amanda was granted no such opportunity for pleasure from Helen, the raven haired senior nurse making her kneel and forcibly pressing the patient's face into her loins. Sara and Kirsty took Amanda together, the junior nurse straddling her hips and grinding her sex into the patient's own as the teenage trainee squatted over her face and bounced over her mouth.
And after the pleasure, the pain. All the girls were given an opportunity to spank Amanda's bare bottom. Their contrasting styles made for quite a show. Sara was delightfully hesitant at first. As the new girl she had only ever been accustomed to being at the bottom of the pecking order, receiving chastisement rather than dishing it out. When Amanda's bare bottom was presented to her, humiliatingly raised and perfectly presented for punishment across her lap, at first she didn't seem to know what to do with it! She stroked the as yet unmarked but trembling flesh with an expression, of half wonder and half astonishment. Amanda's face was buried beneath a cloud of her own hair where she remained inconspicuously silent and passive, her only visible reaction an edgy tension as her buttocks tightened in suspense. The teenager had to be urged to get on with it by her boss and Sara's first tentative slaps brought snorts of derision from the doctor although they were enough to startle Amanda.
"Harder girl!", the doctor ordered. "You can do better than that! Lay into the baggage like you mean it!"
As the spanking progressed, Sara seemed to gain in confidence and a wicked gleam entered her eyes. Soon enough the little minx had Amanda wriggling in anguish and sobbing out loud!
Kirsty was the next to punish Amanda and she too showed a certain inexperience and reluctance to begin with. It was apparent that the slim blonde submissive was far more used to receiving spankings than delivering them, although at least she'd had some practice before on Sara's cute little rump. With Amanda's bottom stretched over her lap Kirsty looked nervous as though she were being examined in some sort of test. A fluttering pulse in her throat and anxious little glances towards Helen and the doctor provided a clear indication of her tension. I'm sure Eddie would have taken a very dim view if his nurse had failed in her duties and she knew it.
When Kirsty got started she approached the spanking in a thoroughly professional and resolute way, putting any misgivings quickly behind her. Her trim little bosom rose and fell as her breathing deepened and she delivered a series of sharp slaps which proved their effectiveness as Amanda's legs kicked in involuntary spasms.
Carol was much more comfortable with the idea of spanking Amanda, her sparkling eyes and mischievous little smile showing that she took an impish delight in this pleasurable opportunity to dominate a patient. I sensed that for the sexy secretary it was the culmination of a managed triumph over the girl, and one she had clearly enjoyed - first fucking and stealing her boyfriend, then sampling the pleasures of her sex and now humiliating her. By this time, Amanda's bottom was red and sore and Carol spent some time stroking and squeezing the raw skin. The production quality of the DVD is excellent throughout and at this point you can clearly hear my lovely naked maid whimpering in apprehension before Carol finally lets her have it. The sexy secretary was really very good. She delivered a long slow sensuous spanking, each slap perfectly measured for maximum effect. Kirsty had been efficient but mechanical in her unvarying rhythm - a workman like performance which did the job of reddening Amanda's buttocks but without any real tension. Carol was much more of an artist. She knew how to build on the foundations the nurse had laid, caressing the hot flesh and teasing it into involuntary relaxation, then timing her blows to take advantage of the victim's lowered guard. She never allowed Amanda to identify a pattern in the punishment, keeping each stroke as a surprise and relishing her ability to make the girl yelp with anguish every time.
When Carol finally finished the doctor couldn't contain himself anymore and gave Amanda a good hard ride culminating in what was obviously a very satisfying injection deep into her over stimulated young body.
At first I thought that Helen might struggle to get a reaction from Amanda after all she'd previously undergone. By the time the senior nurse was given charge of Amanda's bottom it had been thoroughly beaten and I imagined somewhat desensitised. But Helen really was a venomous piece of work, quite the most naturally sadistic of Eddie's harem and her icy classical beauty couldn't conceal a resolute and inspired cruelty. I could see why the doctor had put her in charge of the other nurses and how Carol might well fear the threat that she would be handed over too! My ingenuous young maid was putty in her hands and was soon crying more fearfully than ever she had done for her other tormentors. Vivian and I learned a great deal from watching this DVD. The doctor had given us a series of lessons in the art of discipline and control which provided considerable food for thought and much inspiration.
Over the next few weeks I was often pleased to find Vivian engaging in energetic bouts of girl on girl fucking and sucking with our pretty blonde pet. I'd long known of my wife's suppressed bisexual tendencies. With the ready availability of Amanda's nubile young body she now had ample opportunity to gratify those desires with a very sweet specimen of female flesh. What I hadn't fully appreciated, however was the streak of imaginative malice which Vivian possessed. My wife found an endless variety of ways to use and abuse Amanda. Nipples were pinched and bitten and breasts were slapped. A number of household items ranging from a candle to the heel of her own shoe were worked into the maid's bottom and snatch, and the impromptu dildos invariably produced a shameful stimulation which the maid could not deny. And woe betide Amanda if her lips and tongue applied to Vivian's own sex failed to produce the pleasure she insisted upon. An energetic spanking was the least she could expect!
I knew that Amanda hated these attentions and had no natural lesbian leanings, but the conditioning and the drugs overrode that now. With the aid of the doctor's clever implant Vivian could make Amanda come with contemptuous ease. During the process my wife would demean the hapless girl with a constant stream of venomous and sly little taunts, telling her what a worthless slut she was and criticising her behaviour, her body and every aspect of her life from her former work as a free employee, to her current work as a bonded servant. The shudder of Amanda's orgasm was often accompanied by the wracking sobs of her tears, a combination which invariably produced a grim smile of pleasure from my wife. After one particularly humiliating session she ran to me and pleaded for protection. I almost felt sorry for my former P.A. but then I remembered why we'd acquired her. Amanda had to learn that my wife had as much right to enjoy the body of our new maid as I did myself. There was no way that I could tolerate any disobedience of this nature! So with the help of Mrs. Tibbs, Amanda was bent over the kitchen table where I dealt out a sound canning. I finishing off by sliding my length between her painfully striped buttocks and administering a brutal, thorough and most enjoyable buggering to the utterly chastened slave girl. After that, Amanda was much quicker to cooperate with Vivian's orders and never dared to question either of us again.
Six weeks passed very quickly and it was time for the pregnancy to begin at last. Just before the transplant I took a little time to explore Amanda's mental state in more detail. I'd like you to imagine the occasion for yourself…
I'm sitting in an upright wooden chair in the west wing upstairs drawing room overlooking the drive way and Amanda is sitting on my knee because that is what I've instructed her to do. She's dressed as you see her now - that sexy French maid's outfit which exhibits her charms so well - shiny heels, black, sheer as smoke stockings and a short tight dress clinging to her curves. She's trembling in the way she often does in my presence - a delicious mixture of apprehension and desire with just a hint of fear to flavour the cocktail of emotions mixing inside her pretty little head. No room in there now for rational analysis of her situation!
Part of the reason for Amanda's anxiety is because I've interrupted her whilst she was cleaning. A dust pan and brush mark the limit of her progress across the thick red carpet. I can't stand the noise of a vacuum cleaner and really there's nothing to beat personal attention to get a room really clean - especially when Mrs Tibbs is inspecting your work! Amanda's problem is that she already knows she'll get no allowance from the housekeeper for any time lost in dalliance with me. So to avoid a probable dose of the strap she'd really rather get on with her humble but important duties. But at the same time she can't resist me and she knows she can't. When my hand strokes the smooth flesh of her thigh underneath the thin nylon sheath of her pantyhose her breathing quickens and she gives a little involuntary gasp of lustful excitement. On this particular day she's not been permitted an orgasm for three full days. She daren't masturbate without permission now so in the near perpetual state of arousal that is now her lot this makes the lovely blonde quite desperate to be fucked. And for my own part I find her state of mind most suitable for a little interrogation.
I bend over and kiss her. Her lips part and she lets my tongue plunder her sweet mouth as she melts against me - not forward or demanding but perfectly accepting of my rights and yielding in a way that is quite delightful. What a long way we've come since I first interviewed her for this job! My left hand moves under the tight hem of her skirt to partake of the now familiar but still utterly charming pleasures of her bare sex. She relaxes and eases her legs apart to afford better access for my invading fingers. The baby smooth lips of her vagina are perfectly nude but they soon begin to slick over with a hot sheen of girl juice as I toy with them. The permanent depilation has definitely improved her. What a truly marvellous cunt she has - tight, sweet, hot and oh so easy to provoke! And utterly subjugated to my control. I say when she comes and I say when she doesn't. Right now, relishing the unfolding flower of her sex I find it perfectly fitting that total power over this portal has been achieved before progressing to the use of the womb it guards. Even if medical science didn't require it for her pregnancy, some traditions are worth preserving!
She says nothing but her eyes are pleading with me to finish what I've started.
I bend to her ear and nibble it for a second before whispering to her.
"The doctor's arriving today to give you a check up"
That makes her jump! Now she's trembling in a whole new way!
"He wants to see if you've made any progress since his last examination. Do you think you have?"
I say this to tease her, knowing that it is a completely unanswerable question.
She gives me an anxious little look but can't bring herself to reply except with a confused blush of shame which betrays her opinion.
"No", I muse, answering her unspoken thoughts as I cruelly withdraw my hand from her sex and wipe away the juices on her nylon clad thigh. "I'm not sure you have either…"
There was a morning's preparation to be done. I'd discussed the forthcoming procedure with Eddie Stebbings and he'd told me of his requirements. It was fairly straightforward to adapt a workshop on the ground floor and once I'd finished with her I sent Amanda to Mrs Tibbs so she could get the temporary operating theatre ready.
It was nearly midday before the doctor arrived, bringing with him Sara and Kirsty to act as his assistants. The delay was suspenseful for Amanda, tying her tension into little knots in the stomach, signs I could clearly read as I occasionally dropped in to see how work was progressing. But I think she at least half believed that I wasn't telling the truth - or at any rate that's what she wanted to believe. Dr. Stebbings had been built up into a real monster in her mind and she couldn't face the thought of him. So when I instructed her to answer the door, I almost thought she was going to faint at the sight of him.
Eddie gave a nasty little grin and was cheeky enough to plant a delicate kiss on the tip of Amanda's nose.
"So nice to see you again", he leered.
There was time for a little light lunch before the afternoon's operation. I ushered the doctor and his girls into the dining room where my wife was waiting to greet them. Amanda would serve all five of us with a cold collation of ham and salad before we set to work on her. I enjoyed the sight of Kirsty and Sara. The girls were dressed less formally than they had been in the surgery but I was sure the doctor still had complete control over their pretty outfits. Kirsty was wearing a trim white dress with a plunging v shaped neckline that exposed the inner slopes of her firm and nicely rounded breasts to the open air. The hem line of the pleated skirt was cut well above the knee to display her bare lean legs and rather sweet little feet in black plastic mules with a low square heel. It was superficially demure but incontrovertibly sexy as well. Sara was dressed in a more overtly provocative fashion. The teenager's legs were bare too and her painted pink toenails peeked through the straps of a pair of stiletto heeled white sandals. Her white skirt was outrageously short and tight - little more than a wide belt really. Above that, her midriff was bare, the smooth skin of her beautifully toned and perfectly flat stomach showing a light appealing tan. A very tight white crop top, bound her pert young breasts firmly to her rib cage. I was intrigued to notice that not only was her belly button adorned with a shiny metal stud but the lithe young blonde was also sporting a delicate silver nose ring and her tongue had been pierced too. From the shape the tips of her breasts made where they were moulded so closely to her top I suspected that the girl's nipples had received the same treatment. On a normal young woman this might have been a sign of rebellion but I knew that in Sara's case the doctor would have ordered the piercing to please himself. Dressed like this Sara looked like one of those pouting pop princesses whose chart success is built entirely on the fresh sexuality of their teenage bodies, flaunted indecently on a hundred MTV videos. It isn't a type I find especially alluring but I had to admit that the blonde teen did look cute and as the doctor was controlling such a comprehensive harem why shouldn't he have one like this in his collection?
Amanda set the food out on the table, reasonably generous helpings of meat, tomatoes, spring onions and various kinds of leaf for the doctor, my wife and I but only a couple of lettuce leaves and some cucumber for Sara and Kirsty. The girls were on a strict diet to keep their figures the way the doctor liked them. As my pretty maid prepared the plates with a barely suppressed trembling I realised that at some time every single person at the table had spanked her. Her bare bottom had been exposed for all of us and humiliatingly beaten by every hand. No wonder she was trembling!
After the meal Amanda was put under the Code Babel protocol, standing at the end of the table with her hands on her head. The doctor reached into his black bag and brought forth a small silver case, which he indicated was a portable refrigeration unit.
"I have an egg from your wife which has already been fertilised in the test tube by the sperm you donated at your last visit to my surgery", he said. "This afternoon we shall plant this egg into Amanda's womb and if all goes well the pregnancy will take, her body accepting the foetus as her own. It's the ideal time to do it. Because we have the drug reservoir sitting in her bloodstream we can easily monitor her fertility cycle and the probability of success in the current monthly cycle is at it's greatest now."
"Well lets get started then!" I said.
Kirsty and Sara were put to work undressing Amanda.
"You may be interested to know, Ms Greenway, that the strawberry blonde now unfastening Amanda's buttons was the very same piece your husband chose to assist him in releasing his seed."
Vivian raised her eyebrows noticeably and gave Kirsty a cool stare. The embarrassed nurse turned her face to the floor and wouldn't meet my wife's eyes. Her shoulder length curly hair couldn't shield a blush from our gaze and Vivian frowned when she saw my grin. My wife had probably thought I'd used Amanda for this purpose and I don't think she was too pleased to learn the truth of the matter from Eddie Stebbings mischievous remark. The doctor looked the picture of innocence now but I was sure he'd enjoyed his little revelation.
I was happy to see how perfectly compliant Amanda was, though, co-operating wordlessly as the girls removed her clothing. She'd surrendered so much of her self-respect she was now utterly biddable in situations like this - almost childlike in her docility. With Sara dealing with stockings and shoes it didn't take long to strip her. She made a halfhearted attempt to shield her loins with her hands but didn't resist when Kirsty took her left arm and firmly pulled it to her side whilst Sara clasped her right hand. She was quite a sight, naked and humble standing uncomfortably between the two girls, unable to understand the talk of her betters but waiting meekly and fearfully for her next instructions. I appraised her body afresh in the light of the purpose it was about to serve. It was eminently suitable. Amanda had an excellent carriage with wide child bearing hips.
"Turn her to face the wall now", the doctor said. Kirsty and Sara twisted Amanda round and without explicit instructions placed her hands on her head. The rounded curve of her very feminine bottom was now on display for the assembled company, quite unblemished and with all bruises faded, a testimony to her recent good behaviour and improved domestic skills. Amanda had gone without corporal punishment for a full week.
"I don't want the patient to see this until we're in the operating theatre", the doctor said. "It would spoil the surprise!"
He reached into his bag again and produced an exceptionally long and wickedly curved clear plastic dildo.
"We'll be able to strap her down, I take it?", he asked.
"Don't worry", I reassured him. "Everything's been prepared according to your specifications. You'll be able to perform all your gynaecological tasks almost as well as you could in your own surgery I should think. Ropes, pulleys, slings and straps are all in order."
"Good, good. Her legs will have to be well spread for this. I think it's obvious where it's going! But what may not be quite so obvious is how we use it. Look."
The doctor twisted a switch at the base of the device and it was suddenly apparent that the core of the cylinder was hollow and carried a much thinner length of extensible flexible tubing which spat from the tip like the long tongue of a wicked worm.
"Fibre optic cable and a tiny camera so I can guide it up her uterus", the doctor explained. "Then when we reach the womb, bingo! Using these tiny jaws I remove the girl's natural egg and we deposit our payload through the central tubing. Operation complete and she need never understand what's happened if you don't want her to."
I had to admit it was an interesting piece of medical equipment.
"Now there is one other question. Whilst your little pet is on the table I can tie off her fallopian tube. It'll sterilise her permanently - removes the risk of any unwanted pregnancies afterwards. That's if you're planning on keeping the bitch after the birth of course. And if you're not, I might be able to take her off your hands…"
I was still thinking when my wife cut in, flat and cold.
"Do it", Vivian said. "The only babies that brood mare's going to bring into the world should be the children of her superiors. No sense in letting a silly floozy like Amanda get as far as natural motherhood is there? Best neuter her and take her genes out of the pool."
I was surprised by her vehemence but had no real reason to object so I just shrugged.
"Whatever my wife thinks best."
I'd thought it might be amusing to witness the insemination but Vivian had other ideas. As we crossed the hallway, Kirsy leading the nude figure of Amanda by the hand, head bowed like a lamb to the slaughter, my wife bent to whisper in my ear.
"Leave the doctor and his girls to their work darling", she said coyly. "I think you should come up stairs with me."
She smiled at me, eyes smouldering and chest heaving, her arousal obvious.
"I'll make it worth your while…"
How could I refuse?
And in the master bedroom my wife wasted no time, pulling the heavy blue drapes together, leaving us in a cool, heavily charged silence. We kissed slowly then both undressed.
"Did you really use that chit of a girl to make you come darling? What's her name?"
I sensed the danger but I was too inflamed by her voluptuous naked body. I don't think I've given Vivian enough credit in my account so far. I was doing it all for her really. My wife is such an elegant and delightfully perverse lady and at that moment I was quite drunk on her perfume.
"She was convenient", I continued, kissing her again. "And the doctor offered me the choice."
"She certainly has nice breasts. Don't you think so?"
Now I really should have picked up the signal there! But like a fool I blundered on.
"Not bad at all. Better than Miss Jenkins' juice jugs if not quite as good as your own. They certainly did the trick when I gave 'em a squeeze."
Slap! She caught me full across the jaw.
"Owww! What did I say?"
But the slap was followed not by angry words but by a confusing and very passionate kiss.
"I don't want to hear anymore about Kirsty, darling. You forget that strumpet. And remember of you need to empty your balls again, I'm your wife!"
She kissed me again and continued more gently. "Use Amanda if you must. Amanda's household property now. I can hardly object when I find her such a diverting tumble myself. You were so clever to catch her and tame her darling! But don't go thinking that means I've granted you carte blanche to let your rampant todger go wandering where he likes eh?"
"Of course not darling!" I said, hoping I sounded suitably contrite. "Now come here and lets celebrate our impending pregnancy!"
Our lovemaking was long slow and serious. There was something profoundly symbolic about it. Although my wife wouldn't conceive because she was taking appropriate medication, nevertheless this was the moment that out child would begin to quicken in another womb. In our act of union I felt a sense that was almost that of sympathetic magic. Husband and wife were following the ancient traditions whilst in the room below science brought our sperm and egg together into our chosen breeder's body. It excited us both to think of it. I had the image in my head even as my wife drove herself onto my rock hardness - the image of Amanda, our naked blonde slave, stretched terrified on the table below us being orgasmed by Sara as the doctor planted the cuckoo egg inside her. The silly bitch! Delightful as she was, I knew at that moment that she could never compare with Vivian, the true love of my life.
I have no way of knowing but I'd like to think that the implant took hold inside Amanda's body at the same moment my wife and I enjoyed a shattering simultaneous orgasm in the room over her head.
Part Twelve: Pregnancy
As soon as we were sure that the host was pregnant Vivian and I adjusted Amanda's duties to safeguard the well being of our unborn baby. We eased off a bit on some of the most physically demanding labour and concentrated on more subtle forms of psychological control so that the pain of a spanking less often traumatised her. The application of the strap was suspended completely although I was not foolish enough to inform her of that fact. But there was no sense in risking a miscarriage now we'd come so far. I was even obliged to curtail my sexual usage of the lovely blonde slave, an inconvenience which I found mildly frustrating on occasion, although not even a fraction as frustrating as the girl herself! Since I had to refrain from enjoying the pleasures of her sex I saw no reason why she should benefit from it herself. I lowered her base level of arousal somewhat and I also put a strict cap on the ceiling, a little below the level at which she could achieve an orgasm. For the last six months of her pregnancy Amanda didn't enjoy so much as a single climax, although she continued to feel the urge to masturbate if rather less frequently than before.
Just because I was denying myself access to Amanda's cunt, it didn't mean that I couldn't continue to exploit some of the other features of the girl's anatomy. I didn't consider her arse off limits until she was showing a pronounced bulge and so she was regularly buggered, albeit somewhat more gently than hitherto. The metal slugs which Mrs. Tibbs was planting deep inside her pretty bottom were doing their work well, stretching the girl's muscles and widening her nether passageway so that I was able to enjoy longer and more penetrating excursions into her rectum. I also had the opportunity to continue her training in oral sex. Amanda has a lovely tongue as you've experienced for yourself. I had been savouring her dainty little kisses and delicate licking round my balls for some time now and although she'd more recently learned to ingest my ejaculations I really wanted to be able to deep throat her, so that I'd be sure every last drop was destined for her stomach. This was something the poor girl found difficult to swallow. Her natural instinct was to gag and choke when my member pressed home too far. But her mouth is wide and perfectly constructed to suck a fat cock so I knew that with sufficient tuition her natural instinct could be overcome and I'd be tickling her tonsils with my bell end whether she liked it or not! So little by little, I accustomed her to opening her mouth and throat wider and wider to my cock. And at last I was able to plunge my member up to the hilt in her.
When the oral sex was immediately preceded by anal sex, I know my fastidious blonde maid found it particularly unpleasant to have to use her mouth to clean an organ tainted by the flavours of her own bottom. She did it anyway though. I insisted.
But you may be asking yourself how the girl reacted emotionally to the knowledge of her pregnancy? This, after all, was really the key to the success of the entire project and I must admit I'm proud of the way my wife and I handled it.
So what to say to Amanda to ensure she reacted to the baby she was nurturing in the right way? Well nothing at first; nothing consciously anyway. My wife and I let Amanda deduce her pregnancy by slow degrees; the first missing period, the rush of hormones, the subtle adjustments and slow accommodations her body made as the tiny foetus inside her grew on the rich nourishment provided by her bloodstream and the security of her womb. Unconsciously, our healthy blonde breeder was prepared quite carefully with a revised program of subliminal messages. But this was the easy part. We were working with nature, not against it. Millions of years of evolution had already programmed Amanda for the requirements of successful reproduction - with instincts to cherish and protect any unborn baby inside her more powerful than that of the hapless marsh pipit and with no evolutionary defence against our kind of cuckoo!
Nevertheless… nevertheless there were precedents for rebellion if the psychology of the situation was mishandled. Perhaps even for the disaster of an attempted abortion or worse if she found out what was really going on. That couldn't be permitted. Amanda was left to believe that she was at least half responsible for the baby! It was safer for her to think of herself as the mother - safer and of course a lot more plausible. But what about the father? After all, I'd told her I'd had a vasectomy right at the outset of our relationship and her conditioning had continued to bamboozle her about this ever since so she'd never thought to question if the sperm I was so frequently expelling into her body was 'live' at all. Apart from Dr. Stebbing's own understandable indulgencies at Harley Street when he'd been 'testing' her sexuality, she'd had no other penetrative sex with a man since Carol had broken her relationship with Steve. The timing wasn't right for the doctor to be the father. Not knowing about the Cuckoo implant, the only possible conclusion for Amanda would be that I was responsible. As of course I was, but not in that conventional sense! I had a plan in mind. A slightly risky plan if the truth be told but I could reduce the risk with careful ground work in her conditioning. And if the plan worked it would make the period of the pregnancy a great deal safer and easier to manage.
I waited until Amanda had deduced for herself that she was pregnant. The inner turmoil would force her into a confession to me sooner or later because she knew very well she couldn't hide it from me forever. So when she finally knocked on my study door one bright morning and placed my cup of coffee respectfully on the corner of the desk I eyed her nervous figure like a hawk watching a mouse. I knew what she was about to tell me but I let her sweat. I felt like some stern and shocked Victorian headmaster, about to hear of a teenage pregnancy. And that's how I played my little game…
"P… please master. I think. I mean, I…"
She swallowed convulsively.
"Spit it out Amanda!"
"I think… I'm p… p… pregnant" Her voice faded away at the end into a whispered silence.
"I think… I mean I could be…. possibly could be pregnant…"
"Good grief how did that happen!"
She looked like she was going to cry.
"Come here and sit on my lap!"
She obeyed without question, meek as ever. I pushed her dress up and away so that the flat of my hand could spread across her belly. It was still too early for any very noticeable swelling but I thought I could already detect a tightening of the skin. And behind that there was a noticeable fluttering which was probably just the quickening of her own nervous heartbeat but which an overactive imagination might have fancied were the first stirrings of the Killingworth baby.
"Are you sure? No of course you're not! How can you be? It'll be some phantom of your imagination my dear. You've always had an overactive imagination, haven't you? I think some sleeping pills to help you to rest at night and perhaps some harder physical work to tire you out. That might keep you from dreaming up these impossible ideas."
"But it's not a dream! I think I really am. I've missed my. There was no b… blood."
I was cold now, turning from ridicule to a calculated distant anger. Perhaps I missed my vocation when I stopped acting after I left school. Although of course so much of high level business is about acting too.
"Well we shall have to get you tested then. But I don't see how you can be pregnant unless you've found some guttersnipe boy from somewhere unsavoury to give up a tupping. And I don't know how you did that without my knowledge or permission."
"I… didn't. I haven't. O you know I haven't!"
She was crying now, tears streaming down her face and little sobs interrupting her.
"It must be your baby. Yours and mine!"
"Well it can't be Eddie's. I know the doctor gave you some intimate tests on his last visit but he didn't mount you this time did he?"
Amanda bowed her head at my objective but humiliating musings. The doctor hadn't fucked her this time and she knew it. She was far too confused to consider the truth of exactly what he had done inside her womb.
"You're probably not pregnant at all my dear", I said at last. "But lets get the tests done and if I'm wrong we can soon have you cleaned out inside eh? A quick little abortion and you'll be back to work in no time."
She stiffened in my arms and went white.
My aim here was to shock. Of course I didn't want her to have an abortion, quite the opposite! What I did want to do was to manoeuvre her into the right mental state and this was only the first step.
"B… but you can't!"
Already you see, she knew it was my decision. But her buy in was what I wanted. And her fear - her fear of the alternative…
"Of course I can. It'll be quick painless and cheap. Now come on Amanda darling, be serious for a minute can't you? How can you possibly keep a baby in your condition? You'd be a single mum and you don't earn nearly enough money to raise a kid. And what about your work? I don't see how you can do a proper job of being a housemaid here in the manor house if you're worrying about dropping a sprog. And you know this job is your last chance don't you? You've made such a mess of all your previous chances. I'm really disappointed in you Amanda!"
I didn't want Amanda to do anything drastic. I just wanted to steer her in the right direction. That involved some more subliminal messages to give her the right ideas. A home pregnancy testing kit confirmed to her (and apparently to me) what I'd known all along and left Amanda desperate. Next day she came to me with 'her' suggestion. It was a rather frantic plea on the face of it but I certainly enjoyed watching her beg. I pursed my lips and looked stern.
"You are asking a great deal here Amanda, you know that don't you? A very great deal… Lets run though it again. You want to bring this baby to term and then you're suggesting that my wife and I adopt it! That we take the baby off your hands and raise it as our own? It's a piece of breathtaking cheek I must say!"
"B… but the baby's yours master - yours and mine!" she answered miserably.
"So you keep saying but it doesn't make it true."
"I don't want to have an abortion!"
I strung her along for a bit longer but then pretended to relent.
"Hmmm…. I shall have to talk to my wife. I'm not promising anything - not promising anything at all, but we'll talk it over."
"Oh thank you master! Thank you!"
The plan had worked perfectly! Because she thought it would ensure her baby's survival Amanda had begged me to take the child away. The silly bitch had begged me to do the very thing I intended to do all along!
I made Amanda wait for a week before I put her out of her misery and gave her the good news. She would be allowed to give birth to the baby but after that, my wife and I agreed to take full responsibility for its upbringing. It would be our child, not hers.
"It's for the best, isn't it Amanda?" I said. "There are too many single mothers in the world. You simply couldn't cope with a child in your line of work."
The subliminals had made that point quite forcibly and she believed everything they said, so my acceptance of her suggestion seemed like an immense favour instead of the cunning manipulation it really was. She couldn't even contemplate anything as radical as leaving of course! Dr. Stebbings' technique really is a marvel.
"Oh thank you master, thank you!"
My desperate blonde slave was pathetically grateful.
"Perhaps you can demonstrate your appreciation."
I unzipped my trousers and Amanda dropped to her knees. She knew what to do and she did it very well! Over the next fifteen minutes I was treated to the best oral sex I had ever enjoyed from my pretty blonde pet. She has a mouth that seems made for ministering to a cock as I've just said and as I'm sure you'll agree from recent personal experience eh? It's wide and sweet with appealing moist lips and a teasing tongue, but as I think I've also said before she had a natural aversion to putting it to its proper use when I first took her on, and it had taken some effort to train her. But now, for the first time she was overwhelmed with relief which translated into enthusiasm and gratitude. Her kissing and licking was divine and in fact this was the first memorable occasion when I achieved full deep throated penetration, her wide adoring eyes touched by a tiny prickle of tears in the corner as I discharged a healthy dose of spunk right down her oesophagus.
It had been a rather dangerous business in some ways but the result was worth it. Because she believed that the baby's life had been in real jeopardy I knew Amanda would now strive extra hard to keep it. And I retained a shadowy and sinister ultimate sanction to replace the threat of the cane I could no longer use. Of course, I'd never put her through an abortion but she didn't know that. So much of the game of power is about bluffing! And I'd bluffed Amanda into a new kind of devoted love slavery to protect the very thing I wished her to protect. It was all so psychologically exquisite.
Once the maid's uniform became too tight for her gravid belly and swelling breasts I had Amanda go naked round the house, save only for a leather collar and a pair of stiletto heels. The collar was just a little touch to amuse me and remind me of her real role as breeding livestock. The shoes improved her posture, helping to keep the curves of her bottom and belly in balance. I insisted on them although I knew that with the extra weight she was now carrying and with the swollen ankles which were a symptom of her pregnancy, they were very uncomfortable for the poor girl.
Amanda quickly became accustomed to working unclothed, although she occasionally seemed to feel a heightened awareness of the shame of it and would blush a fetching shade of pink all over. Naked like this, my wife and I were able to stroke the smooth curves of her bare stomach and sense the rapidly developing life inside. Young James was a hearty baby and he put on a lot of weight in Amanda's tummy. From time to time there was the thrill of seeing a little kick inside as he demonstrated the first significant signs of independent action, making his surrogate mother wince.
This was the period when Vivian really appreciated the benefits of our scheme. She suffered from none of the symptoms afflicting Amanda - the morning sickness, the food cravings, the mood swings and the simple handicap of a bulky body to take care of. Vivian continued to enjoy her social life, albeit a less public one. She could dress elegantly, drink alcohol with a clear conscience and look forward to all the benefits of the birth with none of the physical and emotional distress - Amanda would be taking care of all the messy business!
As a consequence Vivian mellowed a little, her attitude to Amanda becoming quite indulgent now that the time of her triumph over the hapless young woman was drawing so close. She was patronising now, without the cruelty, sometimes sitting the naked blonde on her knee and stroking her thighs, breasts and belly almost tenderly whilst crooning libidinous and crude words into her ear which made the pregnant woman squirm and blush. I was reminded of the way an old fashioned farmer might handle a favourite cow. It was affectionate but ultimately distant and mercenary. Usually she concluded with a light swat to Amanda's bare arse to send her waddling back to her duties - little more than a pat on the bottom compared with the spankings, strappings and canings she'd been subjected to during her acquisition and training but it reminded her very simply of her status.
If Amanda had managed to achieve a temporary truce with my wife, Kirsty wasn't so lucky! Vivian returned from a trip to London one day with a very smug smile and a collection of interesting photographs to share. It seems she'd made an appointment with Dr. Stebbings with the express request of having a 'heart to heart' with his submissive little nurse. The doctor was only too happy to oblige and my wife explained how she'd quickly made it plain to Kirsty exactly what she thought of 'cock teasing sluts who get their hands on my husband's private organ'. The innocent blonde, who'd only done as she was told in serving me, was then bent over my wife's lap with the good doctor's help and given a very sound thrashing indeed! The photographs of Kirsty's bright red bottom and sobbing face had apparently been taken by Helen and they were quite provoking.
"Well it certainly seems like you taught her a lesson, my dear", I commented with apparent approval. Secretly I was wondering if I might find the opportunity for some fun with Kirsty again. I'd enjoyed myself last time and she really looked very fetching in the photographs. It would add an interesting spice to a future liaison if Kirsty was kept well aware of the risks of my wife finding out, but of course, conditioned as she was she'd be unable to refuse me. I saw a chance to recreate the interesting state of mind Amanda had been put through when she'd thought our 'affair' was a secret from my wife. Only this time, it would be a real secret and Kirsty would know for certain how bad the consequences of discovery could be!
Patricia Stebbings had agreed to act as our gynaecologist. Obviously we needed someone we could trust with the unusual nature of the pregnancy. She brought portable scanning equipment on her periodic visits and was able to confirm that James was developing into a normal healthy baby by taking the usual samples. If there'd been any question of handicap or genetic disorder my wife and I had decided we'd terminate the pregnancy and start Amanda off with a fresh implant but fortunately that wasn't necessary.
"The child is putting on lots of weight in the womb", she told us. "It might be a difficult birth."
I shrugged. "You know the priorities."
Patricia answered with a nasty smile. That was the most important reason for employing a gynaecologist who understood the requirements of the labour to come. There must be no question of doing anything that might jeopardise the welfare of the baby - that was paramount at all times. But where medical ethics might conventionally dictate consideration for the mother that wouldn't be necessary in this case. Patricia could take whatever risks she wanted to with Amanda's health and well being, so long as the baby came through the birth unscathed.
When the time came it did prove to be a long and difficult labour, but ultimately a very successful one! Our son James was born on 6th July at 2 o'clock in the morning - healthy, kicking and squalling!
Part Thirteen: Back To Work
"That's quite some story", Richard Mann said after a short silence. Despite the interruption to eating caused by Sir Peter Killingworth's long account the two men had managed to finish their lunch and now they returned to the drawing room where Richard had first met Amanda and enjoyed such an exquisite introduction to her skills in oral sex. That was an hour and a half ago but enthralled as he had been in his friend's tale and in the demonstration of the maid's obedience that their short walk through the grounds had provided, it seemed like a mere ten minutes.
Amanda fetched some drinks for the men, then stood to attention by Sir Peter's chair where he could idly stroke her long lean legs.
"This was all a couple of years ago but there isn't much else to add ", the businessman resumed at last.
"Amanda had served the purpose for which we'd acquired her. Any further use we could make of her was a bonus and it won't take me long to bring you up to date. We didn't want young James to form any sort of emotional attachment to his surrogate mother so we took the child away from her immediately after the birth. Vivian came in and made sure she had an active involvement in rearing our son so that it was her face that was imprinted on the boy's consciousness during the crucial early weeks of his life. We hired a nanny to look after him for those occasions when we needed to be elsewhere but James knows who his mummy and daddy are.
And that was almost the end of Amanda's involvement in raising the boy; but not quite. The drugs and the pregnancy had done wonders for her knockers and she was clearly primed and ready for lactation as soon as a pair of lips closed over her fat little nips. It would have been a waste not to use her as a wet nurse, so we let James suckle from the slave girl's tits. Amanda was told very firmly that her role was only that of a living milk bottle - just a convenient pair of mammary glands to provide the boy with the nutrients he needed. She was allowed no chance to bond with the child once the mechanics of feeding were completed.
But Amanda expressed her milk well and freely, so that there was more than enough for me to sample the delights of suckling from Amanda's juicy young udders for myself. It was quite delicious - sweet and warm and fresh from the teat.
We put Amanda back in uniform again, a nursing bra being the only concession to her state as the prime milk source for our son. She was taught how to use a breast pump to save the copious results of lactation if she was ready to be milked but for some reason James wasn't ready or available to feed. That way none of the milk went to waste. Mrs. Tibbs supervised milkings when my wife and I weren't present and in general we had a very good yield from our pretty dairy maid! James certainly benefited from the contents of her breasts for rather longer than is usual, I believe. He continued to suck from them after his teeth had started to come through and by the time he was finally weaned, he had started to bite and chew at the nipples which caused the girl some distress, I fear.
It was gratifying to be able to make full use of Amanda's body again without having to exercise the restraint which had been necessary whilst she was carrying the future heir to the estate. I instituted an immediate program of vigorous physical exercise to tone her up and flatten her belly which had inevitably been stretched by the pregnancy. And I took a much firmer line in disciplinary matters again. I had to correct any misleading ideas that she might have formed in the late stages of her pregnancy because of the relatively lenient treatment I'd allowed her. I made it quite clear now. That had been for the benefit of my son and heir and certainly not out of any consideration for her own comfort or welfare! Vivian was happy to help me in restoring the proper measure of fear and respect that we expect from our pretty possession. She got the message quickly enough!
And now we've achieved a healthy regime, which keeps her in line without too much difficulty. Regular spankings are supplemented from time to time with a healthy dose of the strap and a more judicious but effective application of the cane to her bare backside. Nothing less than instant and unquestioning obedience is acceptable; to myself, my wife, my servants, my guests and even my horses and dogs when they can reasonably be considered to require service from her.
I've managed a few refinements to the way she's governed. Nothing conceptually new since the doctor put the implant in her neck but just some easier ways of managing her. I have this little hand held PC programmed to monitors her drug reservoir and control her arousal level. She knows what a firm line I take on unauthorised masturbation but I don't entirely trust her not to try to slip furtive fingers into that sweet little honey pot of hers when she thinks we won't notice. However, with the benefits of this device I get a log of any activity of that kind and I can quickly cool her off! She never climaxes without permission, although I must admit I occasionally like to let her finger herself to one in private, pretending she's managed to break my rules. It gives me a suitable pretext for a spanking.
She's is a very saucy little sweetmeat, dressed in the French Maid's uniform, don't you think? It's quite a pleasure to be able to enjoy the benefits of a well prepared hot and moist little snatch and the lively young body of a wench desperate to please me and craving for the release of an orgasm which only I have the authority to grant her.
I'm afraid the little bitch still hasn't come to terms with her way of life, even after almost three years of employment. Her fears and her needs are sufficient to ensure that she will never escape our total mastery of her mind and body but it doesn't stop her from remembering what life was like when she still had her independence. I'm sure she misses it and longs for freedom - that's an irreducible part of her personality which none of Dr. Stebbings methods can overcome. But do you know, I don't mind that at all! On the contrary, if I'm honest, I rather like it. The veiled look of anguish and despair which sometimes flashes across Amanda's face before she surrenders to an authorised climax just adds to my pleasure and that little extra wriggle of reluctant humiliation which she often gives when I'm buggering her is priceless. All in all, Amanda's body has been quite a bonus.
Now tell me something Richard. Would you like to take Amanda upstairs and give her a work out? It's what she's there for - entertaining guests is a part of her duty! You would? I rather thought so! She hasn't been gasmed for nearly a week so if I just set the controls accordingly I think you'll find it a most pleasurable experience…
Go on. Enjoy yourself!
Epilogue: Lost Property
Sir Peter Killingworth lent back in his big leather chair and frowned. Amanda swallowed her terror and glanced at the WPC for reassurance. This wasn't easy for her. Confronting her former boss, her erstwhile captor and self styled master would have been quite an ordeal under any circumstances but on his own territory in the very room where he'd so often casually fucked and abused her it was almost a form of torture.
"And how exactly am I supposed to have achieved this?", the businessman said, his voice a confident contrast to her own soft, hesitant and miserable tones. "It seems to me that if you had been working here as my maid - and mind, I'm not admitting that you were - you had every chance to leave. Why didn't you?"
"The baby. The baby's mine."
"Really?" Sir Peter raised an eyebrow. "Well there are genetic tests to prove these things aren't there. I'm sure the courts would find no evidence to back up an absurd claim like that! And it was just your so called baby that kept you here was it?"
"The young lady claims she was drugged", the chief inspector interrupted smoothly, cooling the argument. "She says you were brainwashing her and keeping her passive with the aid of chemicals and subliminal aural messages."
"Really?" Sir Peter began to chuckle. "Wasn't that the plot of some lurid 1970's schlock film? The Manchurian Candidate I think it was called. It's quite absurd of course. Just science fiction. Ask yourself this. Why would my wife co-operate in any sort of scheme to brainwash you girl? And she'd have to co-operate if you were here for as long as you say. What would her motive be? Your story all looks very threadbare once we get past the lurid sensationalism doesn't it? I'm afraid you've been led astray by a tawdry little gold digger Inspector. I don't know what her game is but I'm having none of it!"
Amanda thought she was going to cry - she had to fight very hard not to. Put like this her claim did sound implausible. And she really wasn't used to confronting Sir Peter. The whole experience felt unnatural, even to the clothes she was wearing, a simple grey knee length skirt with flesh coloured tights, low square heels and a demure white blouse. In this house it felt like she was overdressed. She certainly wouldn't have been permitted the modest white panties that cradled her bare sex -permanently denuded, she remembered now with a flash of anger, on Sir Peter's orders.
"Well how do you explain this then?" she said pushing her hair up suddenly and fingering the valve in her neck which Dr. Stebbings had implanted to control her drug reservoir. "You see I found out about you. You.. you.. b… b… beast!"
And now she did break down and cry for a few breaths. But her courage had returned a little with her anger and she forged on. "Your Code Babel isn't perfect. I picked up some clues about what you were doing to me. I found out where the speakers were and I muffled them. I got to the bottle of chemicals that Mrs Tibbs was using to fill this thing in my neck. And I emptied it out and topped it up with water. Even then I had to pretend I was still in your thrall. I had to pretend you controlled me perfectly until I could find the chance to run away. The chance to steal some of my old clothes and make a getaway."
"I see." Sir Peter's voice was colder now; altogether more serious suddenly. "But of course you have absolutely no way of substantiating these wild claims. That thing in your neck. I suspect if we investigated we'd find a respectable doctor who'd tell the courts it was for a respectable medical condition. I've heard they can treat schizophrenia with slow release drugs. And doesn't that make the patient prone to delusions and paranoia? That's what it'll be in your case. It's all starting to make sense now."
"But I can prove it!"
Amanda reached into her hand bag and fumbled out a cassette. She looked around wildly. There was a stereo in the corner of the office with a tape deck. Amanda slipped her cassette in the slot with fumbling fingers then pressed the play button. The sound of Sir Peter's voice came clearly through the speakers.
"Dr. Stebbings asked if either of us had any ethical objections to breaking some of the social rules which operate in conventional society. Naturally we said no."
Another man could be heard laughing.
"There's more than one way to use a tape", Amanda said over the recording. "I found a cassette recorder on my cleaning duties and I was able to hide it and record some of your conversations when you'd put me under your so called Code Babel protocol. That's how I know. I know it all!"
"No you don't", Sir Peter said. "If you knew it all you'd know that your baby was never your own. But that doesn't matter. That's a detail. The point is you obviously know too much. Too much for your own good my dear. You've been very enterprising, Miss Jenkins, very enterprising indeed. How unfortunate for you! If it hadn't been for that tape I could have let you go. There was nothing you could prove. But as it is, I'm afraid I'm going to have to keep you! The party's over now. Inspector, if you wouldn't mind?"
Amanda had listened to this little speech with a kind of numb horror, her eyes wide and her muscles locked. Only at the very end did she think to turn away and flee. But it was too late. She only managed one gurgled scream before the WPC's hand closed over her mouth and the Inspector seized her arm…
Five minutes later the struggle was over. Regulation police handcuffs secured Amanda's wrists and her arms were stretched above her head and looped through a hook in the ceiling. Blouse, skirt, shoes, tights and panties had all been removed, the tights tied tightly round the prisoner's ankles and the panties wedged into her mouth to muffle the girl's anguished cries which had now subsided to choked sobs.
"I'll have to hand it to the bitch, she's a feisty one!", the Inspector said. "She put up quite a fight there. Those legs can certainly kick can't they? Good job there were three of us."
He patted WPC Julia Sanderson on the bottom appreciatively, knowing that it was only her presence which had reassured the witness sufficiently to persuade her to step foot inside the Manor House. Amanda was still wriggling and squirming like a freshly caught fish and hot tears flooded from her eyes.
"I hope you'll be more careful with your property in future. It was only a stroke of good fortune brought her to my patch first."
"Don't worry there's no chance I'll make the same mistake again", Sir Peter said. "The really lucky thing is that she didn't recognise you, Richard. After all, you're not just a casual acquaintance. You have given her a good poke before, eh?"
"I certainly recognised her!", the police officer confirmed. "But it's been six months since I visited you - it was only the once and I had a beard and moustache then. Add to that, the fact that she was distraught and not expecting to see me and it isn't too surprising…"
He paused to land a single ringing slap on the victim's bottom. "Keep still bitch, for goodness sake. You're not going anywhere now!"
They watched Amanda subside, her breasts still heaving and her face flushed pink from her excursions.
"Well thank you Inspector", Sir Peter said, "I certainly appreciate it."
"Glad to be of assistance. Your maid was quite an inspiration to me when I last visited you. Quite an inspiration and quite a pleasure! That's what gave me the idea to send Julia here to see your friend Doctor Stebbings. But now I'm afraid we must be off. I've other business to attend to."
"So soon… Won't you at least enjoy a little of Miss Jenkins' hospitality before you go?"
"Well… perhaps just a quick one eh?"
In fact it was half an hour later when the Inspector's car turned out of the drive and back in the direction of the village where Amanda had been picked up by one of his patrol vehicles less than a week ago. In the driver's seat, Chief Inspector Richard Mann felt some considerable degree of satisfaction over the outcome of his visit to Sir Peter Killingworth's house. It was good to be able to perform a basic piece of police work so effectively. Sometimes the job of a chief inspector seemed either too political or too managerial or both. He'd lost sight of what it meant to be a grass roots officer on the beat. But today he'd been given the opportunity to remember what he loved about the force - the ability to keep law and order and serve the public - and his friends of course! Even in something as simple as the return of lost property. And that was exactly what Amanda was - lost property to be returned to her rightful owner. Admittedly this particular piece of property could have caused its owner a lot of trouble if it had turned up in the wrong place. Which was why he felt no shame about enjoying the finder's reward. That blonde bitch was hot! Miss Jenkins' body was every bit as good as he'd remembered. How she'd squirmed when he plugged her bottom and forced her to accommodate him! The silly little tart thought she was being so clever but she'd really made such a dreadful mistake. It had been quite a sight to see her hopes dashed so cruelly by his betrayal and he'd almost felt sorry for her - almost. He caressed Julia's knee lightly as he changed gear. When they got back to the station the curvy little WPC would make a nice dessert...
"What am I going to do with you eh Amanda?" Sir Peter asked rhetorically. He was standing behind her whispering in her ear as his left hand rhythmically squeezed her left breast and his right hand played with her bare pussy. "You're such a trial to me, you know that? And now you've got me in trouble with the police! It's a good job Inspector Mann is so understanding isn't it? I hope he enjoyed himself in your bottom - it's the least he deserves don't you think?"
The businessman gave Amanda's breast a firm squeeze. He was pleased to note that for all her tears, all her misery and abject humiliation her sex was moistening despite itself. That part of Amanda's conditioning had bitten too deeply and she could never escape the slavery of her sexual desires, no matter how much her conscious mind might want to. She had such a fine body, lean, fit and well conditioned. It would have been a shame to let that body go to waste.
He broke away at last and went over to a cupboard on the wall from which he took a hypodermic syringe and a clear phial of Amanda's medicine. Standing in front of her, he let the girl watch as he slowly filled the glass cylinder with a 10CC dose, the drop at the end of the needle as he squeezed out the excess seeming to hypnotise her for a precious few seconds.
And after all that she'd experienced it was this precise moment that suddenly felt to Amanda like the worst of all. The fear, dread and apprehension of her escape had been lightened by hope and the adrenalin rush of horror at her betrayal had kept her from thinking, reducing her to a panicked bundle of muscles and nerves. Even when the Chief Inspector had been buggering her, the full reality of the situation hadn't penetrated beyond the shock of her recapture. But now, with the police gone and alone at last with the man who had broken her, there was time and leisure to bitterly regret her ill fated escape attempt and to contemplate her future. She knew she'd get no second chance to escape. Sir Peter wasn't a fool. The terrible misfortune that had foiled her plan had doomed her forever. Soon her drug reservoir would be topped up with he medicine and this time it wouldn't be water, it would be real. How she hated him! Intellectually she knew that he was old and ugly - his liver spotted hands seemed more like claws as they roamed so complacently over her flesh, but they excited her despite herself in a way no other man could do now. Not after the conditioning. Her body was programmed for Sir Peter and his wife whatever her mind thought. He was putting the needle to her neck now - sinking the plunger Soon, so soon, it would all be over. The drug wouldn't help her to like her situation -she knew that much well enough. She'd always dread and fear the aristocrat and his family. But the drug would suppress any hope of escape or ability to plan for it. It would make her psychologically helpless.
He'd never loved her in the slightest. She knew that now. She was a convenience that was all - a possession - a body to be used. And that's what she'd always been. Except from now on there would be no pretence. Her mouth, cunt and bottom hole would be convenient receptacles for Sir Peter to use to relieve himself, dumping his cum inside her when there was nothing better available and with little more thought or concern than he might use for the toilet if he was taking a piss. But that attitude would be far from symmetric! Whether she liked it or not, she knew she'd try her absolute hardest to please him, wriggling, squirming, sucking and licking to the utmost of her ability. Because it was only when Sir Peter was pleased that Amanda had any chance at all of being granted one of those orgasms that bound her to him and which she so desperately craved. Everything she did from now on would be focused totally on pleasing him - keeping her body trim and fit so that she remained a desirable fuck - performing her duties round the house, quickly and efficiently so that she didn't anger him. Because she knew he wouldn't hesitate to thrash her. That would be her life from now on - forever. A thrall - a toy - an object.
Sir Peter was mounting her now with a grunt of satisfaction. And her body responded. With each thrust she felt herself becoming wetter - hotter - more eager. She knew what she was now. Take an inventory of the slave girl's most important assets - one cunt, one arse, two legs, a pair of tits, a womb and a throat, lips and tongue - all present and correct and to be kept in good condition for her owner. But right at this moment it was even simpler than that. Right this moment she was only a needy, needy hole desperate to be filled. And all the while the drug circulating through her veins took a stronger and stronger hold, squeezing out the last vestiges of independent thought - the last corners of resistance…
Sir Peter knew at least part of what he was going to do with Amanda - the important part. Just before her escape Vivian had been talking about a second child.
"Let's get 'miss rent a womb' started on another", she'd said. That was fine by Sir Peter. But this time he decided things would be a little different. He'd overestimated Amanda. It was wrong to use her as a maid when really she was just livestock. Dr. Stebbings had suggested another piece of surgery which he'd turned down before, but now he felt inclined to take it up. He would have Amanda's vocal chords clipped. It would reduce her to inarticulate little moans and squeaks more appropriate to her status. He'd keep her in the kennels with the dogs - permanently. She'd be easier to control in there. And when their next baby was born, why not rent her out to his friends, or contacts of Dr. Stebbings who might want to do the same thing but hadn't the resources to acquire a juicy young womb like Amanda's? Yes, with a bit of planning it could become a little business. Amanda could be kept more or less continually up the duff with cuckoo pregnancies, year after year after year…
So that was the long term, but what about the short term? That's what he hadn't decided on. Amanda deserved something special to punish her for her recalcitrance, something to signal that she was broken back into the harness. Spanking, strap and cane weren't sufficient somehow.
He thrust deeply, groaning as he fountained inside her. Amanda climaxed too - well behaved and to order, shuddering to a stop with a slow tear leaking from her left eye.
As he stroked Amanda's flesh savouring her sweet young body with all its nubile pleasures, its fears, its terrors and its helplessly aroused sensuality he considered several options but none seemed quite good enough… Still, there was plenty of time. He'd think of something…
|| Email Author: EngineX