8. Two Angels.
Sarah’s email arrived just after 4pm, making my heart beat a little faster.
slave P
Having seen your performance serving Master Jonathan I am most disappointed. However, I can understand and have some measure of sympathy.
Please ensure you perform better this evening when you are used again. During your owner’s use you were happy to please, even in the shower cubicle. Continue with that standard and do not let them down again.
My relationship to you is irrelevant. Your duty is to The Code.
You will, of course, be punished in due course.
Sarah R.
I read the email four times. I’d thought about writing to her in the afternoon to plead for a way to keep in our minds as sister and brother but had talked myself out of it each time.
Duty. I thought, shaking my head; still cautious that I might be listened to. The camera light was still off. I’d checked the others around the house that I could easily see. I would need a ladder for the one on the ceiling over my shower.
I hoped they were all off then again at the apparatus. Cuffs and chains were waiting, crop hanging on a hook on one of the stands. Blindfold hanging from the rail. I was hard. Sarah knew. She’s going to know more again later. I thought.
No judgment.
No damage.
Jonathan’s words echoed in my mind.
“Surely she can’t judge me for this.” I said out loud. Glancing at the camera by my desk. Still off.
I gave up on working and made the bed and vacuumed the floor; then showed in preparation for my evening. Anxiety was abating thanks to her email and excitement was once again, rising. Sarah was being an angel. I thought.
At 6pm an SMS arrived.
ETA 15
I undressed, folding my clothes onto a shelf in my wardrobe; then taking the blindfold knelt by the bed facing the camera on the end of the rail. As I expected. On.
I turned to face the door, surprisedand placed the blindfold over my head and waited.
After a few minutes I heard a key in the lock. Footsteps came towards the bedroom and I felt a presence in the room. I bowed down, hoping I was in the right place which I thankfully was. I felt the ground and found feet which I started to kiss. Verbal worship didn’t come easy to me but I managed to offer myself.
“On your back.” A woman’s voice was unexpected.
I rolled over onto my back.
“Clean me.”
Her sex descended to my face as she sat against my mouth. I licked and cleaned her everywhere, noting the taste of semen oozing from her sex. I cleaned her anus, delving deep into her with my tongue. She orgasmed several times before setting onto my mouth and depositing her nectar into me.
“Kneel up.” Came the voice.
I knelt in silence.
I could feel her presence in front of me. Close. Observing.
“Wait there.”
The sound of something unzipping came from behind me then she was back.
“Wait there.”
The sound of something unzipping came from behind me then she was back.
p>
“Excited?” She said.
“May I speak?” I ventured quietly.
“Yes.” Her voice was relaxed.
“Very excited, Mistress. You tasted wonderful.”
“Would you like to release yourself? You seem very tense.”
“Yes please, Mistress.”
There was the sound of fumbling, perhaps in her handbag, I thought.
“Go ahead.”
It took hardly any strokes to release my semen. Catherine and Christopher had implanted their instructions which became to me, another fantasy to masturbate to. It took no imagination on my part to know what I was to do with it. She handed me a glass tube which she had obviously caught my seed in.
I held my head back, taking the liquid into my mouth, I swallowed it.
“Good.” She said.
“When your next visitor tells you to release yourself later; do it slowly and hold your seed on your tongue for your owners to see. You must also give life to the fantasy you are thinking as you’re doing it.”
“Give life? I don’t understand…”
“Talk through the fantasy.”
“Talk through it?” You mean, narrow?”
“Yes.”
“So they know what I think about when I do this?”
“Every time. Be clear and precision. We know sometimes it’s the same fantasy and that’s okay. We still want to hear it.”
“All of them?” I shuddered.
“Don’t try to hide any of them. Your owners want to know everything. Do you understand?”
“I understand, Mistress.”
“When you hear the front door close, you can remove your blindfold.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
And, seconds later, she was gone.
I took the blindfold off and looked around. Everything was exactly as I had left it. I stood up and looked around the room. The cameras. All off.
I looked at my watch. 7:15pm. Still blinking, I went to the bathroom and stood in front of the bathroom mirror to examine myself as I had after my cleaning of Mistress Melissa. The inside of my mouth tasted of my visitor and I wanted it to linger. The same feelingswere back. I took a sip of water, deciding to let the smell and taste continue and then went back to the bedroom.
The laptop had changed.
The same machine sat on on my desk connected to the usual large monitor screen but now the screen saver was showing rolling scenes of the mistress on my face, my masturbation and drinking semen.
“How the…”
I watched the slideshow through two cycles. In the space of a few
“Surely it’s not those two doing this.” I said to the room.
Buzz.
Another SMS.
ETA 10.
I let the thoughts drift away to concentrate on my next appointment.
My second visitor was equally quiet, but this time, a man. His use of me was, as Jonathan had said, on the bed face down, hands cuffed and winched; after which I cleaned him and took him into my throat. He didn’t urinate into me though I had expected to be dragged to the shower to take his nectar.
I was hard again. The thought of having to masturbate, on camera whilst giving a running commentary wasn’t easy to come to terms with.
“How do you want to do this? Standing? Kneeling? It’s up to you, slave.” He said, tugging his boxer shorts over his member.
“Can I knee on the floor, at your feet please, Master?”
“Your choice.”
He helped me off the bed and I knelt on the floor at his feet.
“Wait until I get the camera ready.” His voice seemed practiced, like this wasn’t new to him. “Lights, camera, action.”
This time I was slower, deliberate. I’d chose a slight variation on the first fantasy which again, brought me to a climax quickly and I spurted into the class tube being held by my visitor. Slowly I raised it to my mouth and took the semen onto my tongue, pausing for the zoom shot I knew someone was making, then swallowed it and licked the glass clean.
For effect, I bowed my head and knelt still.
He left almost as soon as I had finished drinking myself and I took the blindfold off, blinking at the lights. The camera wasn’t the only thing pointing at me. All the bedroom lights were on and my desk lamp was being used as a spotlight.
I checked the cameras. All off.
The laptop was still showing it’s slideshow of my previous visitor but, after five minutes changed to a montage of both visits.
“How the hell are they doing this?” I said to the laptop as I appeared on the screen. For ten seconds anyone would have seen a photo of me, cleaning the women anus with my tongue. The detail was incredible.
“This is a test.” I said. “They’re testing how much I’ll tell them.”
Leaving the screen churning through my debasement, I pulled a beer from the fridge and settled in front of the TV.
“Tomorrow, Peter. Tomorrow.” I said to the room, one eye on the camera pointing at me.
But it was under my skin. The camera was a reminder that I wasn’t free; that I was a slave. The kitchen was the only place where sanctuary existed. Well, I thought it was.
I jumped up, spinning beer down my T shirt.
“Let’s find them all.” I said to the camera on the left.
Into the kitchen, open plan off the locke. No cameras but lots of places to hide them. Laundry room. Nothing. Garage, nothing. So it was only the bedroom, locke and bathroom? The kitchen was freedom.
“Phew.” I sat at the kitchen table, nursed my beer and surprised.
My SMS alert buzzed.
7pm tomorrow prompt at 86.
“Fuck, what now.”
Then the phone actually rang, making my heart beat a little faster.
James. I hadn’t seen him since he talked me into this.
“Hi.” I answered.
“Hey man, where you were? I’ve not seen you in ages.”
“A bit er…tied up.” I winced at my joke.
“They that good, eh?” James laughed.
“I could tell you about it, but then I’d have to kill you.” I carried on the banter.
“Yougot any beer? I can come over and you can tell me all about it.”
“Er…hey let me check the refrig…”
“That’s okay, I’ll pick some up. Be there in ten.”
Click. James was being James. Short conversations and fast actions.
I cringed. James, my only real straight friend, had encouraged me to contact this couple. The intensity of the past few weeks had put him to the back of my mind. At least he would understand that it was a bi relationship though, the thought of telling him what I actually did made me wince.
He arrived just after 10, beer in hand.
“I was in a rush.” He said, setting onto the sofa. “Anyway, I’m glad you got busy. I’ve been crazy with work so…”
“You’re always in a rush.” I smiled. “You look good.”
“Workin’ out.” He laughed. “Gym. Lay-deees. You should try it.” He winked.
“I just might.” I lied again.
“So. How’s it goin’? Did you hit it off?”
“Well.” I let a pause hang. “Too early to tell.” Complete liar.I thought.
“So?”
I looked at him quizzically.
“Tell all.” He looked amused. I was blushing.
I nearly spat my beer, managing to gulp it down to save myself.
“Are they nice? Sugar Daddy and Mommy?”
I laughed. “No, not really. Just an ordinary couple with a bi husband. She accepts him.”
“Really?”
“It happens. Don’t look so surprised.”
“Amazing.” James shook his head. “Glad it’s all working out. Hey. What’s with the cameras?”
Oh fuck, not now!
“Just tryin’ out some audio visual stuff for a project.” I lied.
“Awesome. Can I see it?”
Before I could stop him, he had the left camera off it’s base, disturbing the tape holding it to the TV stand. The red light was off.
I surprised.
“Er. Can you put it down? I’m still setting it up. I had that in the right place.” I lied.
“Oh, yeah. Oh, okay.” He wrinkled his nose and placed the camera back on it’s stand. I breathed again. James was incredibly inquisitive and noticed change quickly. Steering him around the two cameras would be hell. Steering around this mythical project I’d just invented would be…
Then I realized the bedroom door was open.
“Grab another beer.” I said on the way to stop him seeing the apparatus. “I just have to… shut things down.”
I closed the bedroom door and turned back into the lounge, looking for James to come from the kitchen with more beer.
James came out of the bathroom.
“Bit kinky, eh.” He turned.
“Eh?”
“Camera on the ceiling over the shower.” He smiled. “Fun and games?”
Fuck. If only you know what’s in the bedroom. I thought.
“Oh, er…yeah.” I laughed, trying hard to brush it off. “The guy’s a bit…”
“More than I need to Know.” James laughed. “What happens in Vegas…”
I pulled two more beers from the refrigerator and sat on the sofa. The cameras were on.
“Fancy a walk?” I said innocently, handing him a beer.
“This time of night? It’s going to rain again.”
“I feel like a stretch.”
“Maybe.” James swigged his beer.
Buzz.
SMS from Catherine.
He’s going to find out some day.
Oh no. I thought. Not twice in one week. Please no. You can’t do this to me.
“Come on, let’s get some air.” I jumped to my feet. “Fuck the rain.”
Buzz.
Do I have to order you?
“Just let me finish…” James gulped; I was headed to the door, leaving my phone on the coffee table. James slugged his beer and got to his feet.
Buzz.
“Ignore that. Let’s go.” I shouted from the front door.
“You’re in a rush.” James said, outside finally. “Feel that? We’re in for another storm.”
We walked the block; the steamy air felt good in my lungs after the day in the airconditioned bedroom that was my sleeping quarters, my office and my dungeon.
“You sure you’re okay?” He asked, getting in the car. I wasn’t about to let him into thehouse again. On the walk I’d made up a whole story about being tired and having sleepless nights.
“Just some sleep is all I need.” I lied, dreading what was waiting for me.
“OK then, you go get your beauty sleep and I’ll catch up with you in a few days?”
My brain really did need sleep and I remembered the 7pm appointment at 86. “I’m out tomorrow, but later This week should be OK.” I said, trying hard not to look like I really, really wanted him to depart.
“Give me a call.”
James reversed out of my drive. I looked to the night sky and felt the first splosh of rain from the thunderstorm that was about to unleash itself on the city; then ran inside to pick up my phone.
Catherine.
Let me guess…y phone had a dead battery?
I put the phone down on the coffee like it really was a hot potato in my hands and looked around the room. The cameras were on.
Oh, fuck, they know I’m back.
“Please. Not now.” I calld out to the camera microphones, turning out the lights in the locke room, I headed to my dungeon. “Please!”
The bedroom was dark. The fear glow of four camera LEDs taunted me.
I undressed in the dark to my boxer shorts, and divered under the duvet. “Please.” I called to the room and sat up in my bed. Somehow the darkness was a comfort. Reaching up I could feel the wood of the rail used to hold me still as men had taken their pleasure in me. I ran my fingers on the texture of the planned wood, feeling the holes where implementations had been fixed to it. The pulley and chain were folded neatly along the top of the rail.
This is torture. I thought. “Why the fuck am I turned on?” I whispered to myself.
“This is who you are, Peter.” Catherine’s voice sliced through the dark.
My arm shot out of bed to the desk lamp, fingers fumbling for the switch. The room was empty. The cameras were still on.
“Why are you running?” Her voice felt like she was singing.
I jumped out of bed and turned the main lights on.
“That’s much better. I can see you now.” Catherine’s voice said. “Though I do prefer it when you’re naked and being raped.”
I looked down. Boxer shorts. She’s watching me but…where is the?
I darted around the room, looking for the inevitable internet speaker. Under the bed, Jonathan had positioned a small round speaker connected to power in the wall behind my headboard.
“So we meet again.” Catherine chuckled.
I laid on my back, the speaker three feet away from me and stared at the ceiling camera; knowing she was looking down at me with the only camera that captured the whole room.
I told. “I can’t do what you want with James.”
“What do we want?” Catherine toyed with me.
“You want me to tell him.”
“Do we?”
“Don’t you?”
Catherine laughed.
“He’ll find out sooner or later.”
“Not now though. Not after Sarah finding out.”
“Peter, your home is rigged for us to use you. He already suspects some kinkiness. Soon he will stumble on your bedroom secret and then you’ll have to explain it. You may as well be proactive and tell him. Sarah knows everything. You’ve crossed the horizon on that one, you can’t do anything about it.”
I cringed.
“Who else has to know? Mum? Dad? Colin?” I called.
“Just James for now.” Catherine said smoothly. “We need you to stop running and this will help you.”
“How the fu..” I gulped. “How does this help?”
“I’ll overlook your swearing.” I could almost see her indignant face saying it. “If you admit this to your friend. You can finally admit it to yourself and let yourself be what you are.”
“But I know already.” I pleased. “I’ve been telling you things I would never tell anyone. Telling you what I wanted to do for you?”
“Yes, it was very sweet.” Catherine replied. “But we’ve more to uncover, haven’t we? That fantasy was just the tip of the iceberg, wasn’t it?”
I was stunned into silence. How did she know all this? How did she know there were more deep, depraved dreams; even deeper than the one I’d told them.
I stared at the ceiling camera, silently shaking my head in disbelief.
The room was silent except for the static noise from the internet speaker.
“Why haven’t you turned us off?” Catherine’s voice said after what felt like minutes.
“Huh?”
“Why haven’t you turned us off?” She repeated.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing is stopping you turning your internet router off and removing the cameras. Why are they still there watching and listening to you if all you want to do is run?”
She’s right. I could just turn this all off and stop.
Why am I letting them take control when I could so easily just stop it. I’m lying in my own prison, and I can escape when I like. What’s stopping me?
The bedroom, I realized, had become a symbol of power. The cameras and apparatus were stone walls and, bars on windows,holding me captive. The slideshow on my laptop was my prison guard. It was me. I had created my own prison in my own mind.
But it was all in my imagination. Leaving was as simple as the flick of a switch, and yet it was as difficult as being shackled to the stone wall of a real dungeon.
“Why James?” I said eventually. “Why does he have to know?”
“He’ll find out. Tell him Now while he just thinks you’re kinky.”
“Yeah, but why now?”
I heard a sight. “The Code doesn’t advertise itself.” She said finally.
“So, you want him too?”
“No.” Catherine said after a long pause.
“Then what? What do you want from James?”
“We want nothing from James. We want you to trust and obey us.”
Is this hypnosis? Mind control? Am I dreaming? Why can’t I just wake up and stop this?
Why is this so incredible?
My hand gave me away, moving to feel myself beneath my boxer shorts. I was hardening. Just the thought of them watching me was enough. The excitement hadn’t been quenched by Sarah knowing, just delayed.
I closed my eyes to the pleasure. Imagination sparked another fantasy. It never took long and there were so many variations, some fans I came back to time and again, lasting weeks, using them to orgasm over and over. Some simply dropped into my head; like the first wet dream of being taken by a man.
Catherine’s voice was a soft, calm, angelic order.
“Tell me all about this fantasy, Peter. Oh, and get rid of those shorts.”
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