Another different story line. Applogies to those who have commented asking for following-ons to previous works, I will endevour to continue them in time. But for now, I hope you enjoy. As always, comments and feedback are welcome.
I’ve had a peculiar career. I went to university to study computer science, but my lecturers were crap and didn’t seem to get the potential of the online world. Although I stuck around until halfway through my second year, I had given up on it before Christmas of my first year. The only reason I stuck around was my girlfriend, once she came to her senses and dumped me, I left. During the Christmas break after my first term of university, I spent my time playing computer games, scrolling reddit and video calling my girlfriend.
This was essentially the same as I had been doing prior to uni, although my girlfriend had replaced porn. What changed though was I started get more annoyed at the flaws in each game. I don’t know if it was frustration from my crappy lessons or if it was fallout from my entire family being painful and exhausting to be around. With two sisters who were stereotypical means girl bitches, the only things they agreed on was how lame I am and how pointless my opinion is. My parents aren’t much better, both heavy smokers so stink the house out, and argue so much I am almost hopeful one of them gets the balls to just call it quits.
Anyway, one night in my room, I got drunk on a call with my girlfriend. We fooled around for an hour or so but eventually she had to go to sleep. I jumped onto a game and within five minutes it was just making me angry. Needing to vent, I wrote a drunken email and stalked a bunch of the maker’s employees until I worked out the email structure and emailed some of their senior team a pitch to be a consultant and correct the problems with their games. Drunk me though this was such a good idea, I spent the remaining hours until dawn sending drink rants to employees of different techfirms and suggesting hiring me to solve them.
The next day I was very hungover having continued drinking all night long. My family had great fun annoying me when I eventually left the safety of my room. I spent the next two days recovering from what looking back might have been alcohol poverty. Eventually my stomach settled, and head stopped spinning, and I could go back to playing computer games. I hadn’t Even logged on before the memory of that night flooded back. I quickly logged in, went to my emails and saw three replies. One thanked me for my feedback but said they don’t employ consultants, the other two agreed to discuss terms in the new year.
So, for the next few years, I worked as a consultant improving computer games, corporate websites. Even though, I got into creating algorithms and then advertising methods. Making six figure salaries and using algorithms to invest money, I was already self-sufficial even if I couldn’t afford a house when I dropped outof university. Over the next few years, I had a couple of girls, but women willing to date me were either dumb and pretty with a thing for nerds or not very attractive but intelligent.
My few friends pointed out that I am far from an expert and would have more options if I went outside occasionally. I was more than happy with pretty and dumb though, I wanted sex, we both wanted them in sexy outfits. It’s a win-win. Until it isn’t.
About two years ago I went to one of said friends’s weddings. I happened to be single at the time, my last girlfriend dumping me after I hadn’t had dinner in or out with her for almost a month. My friends pointed out that she had a valid argument. I pointed out that I had a busy month. But watching him walk down the aisle with the love of his life, a very kind and happy woman, I realized that I was going to die in a big expensive house alone and probably start decaying before anyone notices.
I had become a billionaire, yet I live in a two-bed flat that gets cleaned once a month. I was a mess in all senses and haven’t really made any noticeable impacts on the world despite my fortune. So, over the last year, I have diversified my portfolio, bought a beautiful estate with multiple outhouses and a large ancient country mansion with its pillars, three-meter-high windows and a wing for staff. The day after the wedding, I decided that I need to break down my money into pots for different things.
20% for charities
50% for sustainable and positive investment
20% for other investments
10% for me
It was a simple formula, but one that could be applied to profits as well as initial holdings. A lot of my donations went to Africa and South America, foundation health, education and reformation projects. I invested some money in sustainable energy but the big one for me was putting a thorn in the side of the American healthcare giants. As a Brit, their greed and corruption are terrifying evidence of someof the greatest evil in the world.
Using more computer-based processes to develop new drugs and manufacturing methods, one of my first goals was to manufacturing insulin cheaply. Once we nailed that, the money started rolling in. We were producing at about five percent of the cost our competitors were selling at, so even selling at double the production cost was massively below market rates. Our competitors were forced to reduce their profit margins on the drug, but their ridiculous corporate structures and outdated manufacturing methods meant they never competed with us. It didn’t help when after a few months people started moving to our product simply out of spite.
My multimillion-dollar project had taken less than a year to become three quarters of my total net worth. I didn’t need the money from it though, instead investing in more Research. As medicine isn’t really an interest of mine, I never really got involved with the business except to ensure no one was being too overpaid and the profit margins remained fair. A few months ago, I went through the product list for the company and a couple of them caught my eye. Lactation inducer, muscle relaxant and muscle ‘rigidants’.
Out of curiosity, I had started going to hospitals to meet people my company helped and similarly to locations where projects I had helped foundation occurred. Lots of the people said roughly the same thing, ‘Thank you so much, you saved my life.” Or “Thank you so much, I owe you everything.”
These got me thinking and just like the first time my life changed, I got drunk and did something wonderfully stupid. I created an algorithm to find people in the world who have no one and nothing. The main challenge was removing the skew caused by the difference between first and third world people. But Eventually it was done. Next, I adapted it to anonymously contact each of them. Over the last six months, I have helped almost three hundred different people find a new meaning to life. Almost half of whom admitted to considering suicide.
I feel like a saint. I feel like a hero. I even feel like a God. But in the end, I feel like I am owed something more. I want my 10%. All these people I save, yet I have no one. All my relationships I’ve had taught me I am not suited to that life. The staff in my house are great for keeping everything clean and providing me with food. But they invade my privacy, do stuff their way rather than my way and are generally a bit boring.
There is only one thing for it. I send an email and dismiss my entire staff, I work with my AI personal assistant to help manage a refit of my house. As I do this, I decide to take my cut of the people I save. And the drugs I produce. With all the processes online, there is barely any trail left behind as I get to work. Within a month, I have picked my first three people and spend the next month talking to them whilst looking for more. Once happy they and I are on the same line of thought, IArrange for them to leave their lives behind and hit a lift undocumented on my jet to my private airport.
It takes three months for my house to be updated to the current century. From the outside, it is almost impossible to notice the difference. Inside though, it is blatant. All the pealing wallpaper is gone, the doors are sanded, repolished and on new hinges and the old artwork is sold. The stingy basement has been cleared out now containing a spa, gym, swimming pool and cinema room. Having lived almost exclusively in my bedroom for the last two years, I have to re-remember the true size of the house I have bought and the need of staff to occur it.
“Ladies, I won’t remember your names. And honestly, I don’t want to know them. Now is your last chance to have a career. Just say the word and I’ll help get you a job anywhere in the world.” I look at the three beautiful women, all in simple and baggy dresses, none of them make a sound. “Leave the dresses for the next group, let’s go see your new home.”
They had spent the last three weeks doing fitness training, the one who hadn’t known English had started and all three had lessons in cleaning and cooking from my AI so know how I want different tasks to be completed. I lead my three slaves across the long lawn. My old gardeners had a painful task of ensuring no stones got onto the grass so you could walk barefoot without fear of stones. Having just got rid of all seventy staff, I had to get recruiting quickly. Yet according to my maths, I have saved about 150 people so far so could only claim fifteen slaves.
It quickly becomes noticeable that the three women struggle to keep up with the different tasks. My AI comes up with a suggestion, offer on kinky pages for people to submit willingly. Slaves who actively Want such a lifestyle rather than my current method of offering it as an alternative to a job to desperate people shouldn’t count towards my fifteen. Through the combined method, I gain twent new staff over the following three months.
Unlike my previous staff who all seemed like they had a stick up their asses and judged me constantly, these women actively worshiped me. They walked around naked, and so did I. If I wanted one of them to be a footrest, I told them, and they obeyed. Whenever I went out, I knew two women would wait by the front and the back door until I returned. This Meant that every time I come home, the door would swing open as I approached, and a woman would be kneeling on the other side ready to remove my shoes for me.
The only downside was having people around. I have so far avoided anyone even knowing where I live, let alone inviting people to visit. At my AI’s suggestion, the maids all had clothes for when off duty. They could all pick their own, although they were limited to two items at any one time, and socks and shoes were only for going outside. When my AI pointed out one of the new slaves was a seamstress, it bought her fabric and equipment and soon each woman had a matching maid outfit. The dresses are backless, show plenty of cleavage and is just the right height to give glimpses of their ass as they walk away.
“Come on, we always host. Shouldn’t the rich man be the one paying?” Clare scolds me.
She is Henry’s wife, the couple who’s wedding caused my epiphany. While they have noticed I seem to be doing better, I They are my best friends though; Henry was one of my housemates and we share a love of computer games. They did alright for money, and apart from jibes like this, they never acted like I should give them any. Instead, they treated me like the weird reck of a man I am.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I shrug, having told them throughout the years such an event would be bad for all three of us. “Next Friday?”
“Oh my word!” Henry dramatically expressed. “Do you remember hitting your head recently, I think you might have a concussion!”
“Haha, very funny.” I stick my tongue out at the giggling pair.
“I told you; it was only a matter of time before the drugs rotated Joey’s brain. Happens to all the people with money.” Clare continues, ignoring me completely.
“But if his brain is melted, who’s going to fight the joker?”
“I think you misunderstood, he has a dungeon, not a cave.”
“Alright you two, do you want to come over or not?” I interrupt as Clare’s last comment is slightly too close to being correct.
“We do. Where do you live?” Henry smiles.
I tell them and Clare immediately gets her phone out and googles its location.
“Oh, you have a little country cottage. Didn’t see that coming.” Clare coos as she looks at her phone.
“Really, a house in the middle of forests with no other people in sight?” Henry points out to his wife.
“I guess. Now don’t you go getting any ideas.” Clare shrugs and puts her phone away.
The week goes by, and I almost jump out of myskin as a naked brunette nocks gently on my desk.
“Sorry for interrupting Sir, your guests are just making their way up the drive.” She tells me, a thick accent from somewhere in South America, I think.
“Oh God, is it Friday already?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Make sure all the maids are in their uniforms and the kitchen is ready to provide drinks and prepare food.”
Shit. The wonderful thing about a long drive though is it will take them a few minutes to get ready.
“You, with me.” I order a short, but wide woman standing by my bedroom door to follow me into my ensuite.
With her help, I am shown, dried and getting dressed within three minutes. As I am putting clothes on, I send the slave away to give the order that I will open the door.
There is a banging on the door as I run down the two flights of stairs in the main atrium to the front door. I run down the stairs, past the status and open the door. Fuck, the status. I had got rid of all the statisticsbut keep the plinths. Now different slaves take turns on them. There are several dotted around the house, I need to come up with a way of removing before we stumble across them. Right now though, my two friends are staring at the one just behind me.
“Uh, hi.” I mumble, neither of paying me the slightest bit of attention.
“Joey, what, or more accurately, who is that?” Clare eventually Asks, stepping past me as I try to put myself in between them and it.
“A piece of art.” I explain.
“You hired a woman to be a sculpture?” Clare continues, walking over to the woman.
“In your room, I’d understand, but the main entrance”? Henry whispers to me as he removes his shoes.
“Would you like me to get you some drinks Sir?” A maid asks me as she waits by the door into the servants’ wing.
“Do you guys fancy some Champaigne?” I ask my friends, more than happy for a distraction from the naked posing woman conversatino.
“Always.” Clare mumbles, her eyes still roaming the frozen woman.
“Yes please, thank you.” Henry adds.
I nod at the slave who quietly leaves only to be replaced by another maid.
“How many maids do you have?” Henry asks as he notices the switch.
I smile noting how uncomfortable the nude woman is making my friend.
“I think I have about thirty people here in total.” I choose my wording Carefully.
“Including this woman?” Clare seems to have far less issue having the focus on the nude woman.
“Yes, including this woman.” I chuckle and make my way over to her, noting that although Henry joins us, his eyes remain on his wife.
“She is barely moving at all, it’s quite impressive. Can I talk to her?”
“You can, she won’t respond though.”
“Why not?”
“She has taken a drug that makes her muscles stiffen. Whilst if she tries, she can move, thus is able to breathe, it takes serious focus and complex motions like talking are night on impossible.”
“That’s so cool. So, sheis essentially a self-aware sculpture. May I?” Clare asks me, reaching a hand out towards the woman.
I nod and she strokes a hand down the woman’s calm to her foot.
“I almost expected her to be cold.” She giggles as she flicks the woman’s foot.
“Can we go to the sitting room?” Henry blurs out as though he had been holding his breath for several minutes.
“Aww, is the beautiful woman’s body making you uncomfortable?” Clare laughs.
Having always pictured her as an innocent and motherly woman, I can’t quite believe my eyes as she grabs her husband’s crotch in front of me.
“I think both beautiful women are doing a bit of a team effort in that department.” I chuckle as I lead the way through to a blinde. “Doesn’t get much better though I’m Afraid.”
There are two nude women in my blinde, the first that catches Clare’s attention is the standing woman who is posed like she is in the middle of a ballad. A happy but thoughtful expression on her face asshe stands at a slight angle with one hand forward. If she wasn’t so motionless, you’d expect her to start telling a story. Instead, she is holding a phone. I keep multiple around the house as they are the only things that aren’t air gaped so aren’t integrated into the computer architecture of the house.
“Can I repose them?” Clare asks as she walks around the woman.
“Sure.” I tell her, taking the phone off the table and tossing it on the couch.
I smile as Clare makes the woman pull funny faces.
“Sorry.” Clare instinctively apologises as she knocks one of the woman’s large breasts.
“Can we leave these poor women alone now?” Henry asks, making his way past us before noting the content of the table. “Seriously?”
“She’s cute right?” I smile, not needing to look behind me to see what he’s noticed.
“That’s just cruel!” Henry states, suddenly seeming generally annoyed and upset.
“She chose to go in there, and that pose. The only tasks my staffmust do are their chores. Any who are statuses or do anything else, it is only with their permission and willingness.” I explain, which is technically true as they all willingly agree to be mine and do whatever I say.
“Oh my god, that’s so hot!” Clare gasps as she walks over to see what Henry is on about.
“Hot?” Henry repeats, even more shocked than I am.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” Clare applogises.
“I think I’ll leave you two for a minute to chat. Both of you need to be honest about your feelings.” I tell them, fairly certain Henry is only nervous because he is so devoutly loyal to Clare.
I head into the other room and shortly after the maid returns with a tray of drinks. In the dining room, there are six spots I’ve given permission for slaves to go as statuses. Currently only two are occupied. One of them is quite cute.
“You, over here.” I order a second maid waiting by the door to follow me to the cute status. “Get her to knee, open hermouth and then put my cock in it.”
The maid does as I tell her before looking up at me for further instructions. I take a drink from my glass before handing it to the woman. With both hands now free, I grab the frozen woman by the back of her head and start fucking her face. I can’t quite believe the last few minutes. My greatest fear that they would discover my weird arrangement with my staff occurred almost immediately. But I haven’t been ripped to shreds for it. And the last and most unbelievable part is that of the two of them, Clare is the one with less of an issue, in fact, she even seems aroused by the display.
“Glass, finish me.” I tell the maid.
The maid diligently deepthroats my cock, I let out a quiet moan as I cum down the woman’s throat. She takes my seed like a pro before pulling back and cleaning my cock with her tongue. Using her face, it is dry by the time it has started to deflate, and she gently tucks it back into my underwear.
“Clean and reposition it.” I order her, nodding to the kneeing status.
The maid does as she says as I walk over to the window. The view out is amazing, but right now my mind is more focused on the couple in the other room and what could be taking them so long.
KNOCK KNOCK
“Come in.” I call out, the couple walk into the room hand in hand. “Please tell me you didn’t just have sex on my couch?”
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