Chapter Two: The Dressing Room
I waited on white leather couches with the rest of the subs, in a softly-lit and well-appointed dressing room. Boughs of jasmine and bowls of fresh fruit were scattered about the pink-and-cream room, and the walls were lined with dressers, vanity tables, and wheeled racks of clothing.
In a single armchair directly facing the couches sat Mistress Agrippa, one of the house masters. She sipped unhurriedly from a delicate-looking china cup before addressing us.
“Submissives,” the Mistress began, letting the word hang in the air as she placed her teacup gently on its saucer. “Sluts. Slave girls. Bottoms, pets, what have you.” Her air was aristocratic: straight posture; blond hair, coiled elegantly; impossible tailored skirt and silk blouse.
“There are many names which you may go by, many labels that you might find fit,” Agrippa continued. “You might already have a favourite one. I have a soft spot for slave girls myself… And a fewhard spots, I suppose.” She paused to sip her tea.
“The depredations each of you will endure throughout the next two weeks are limited only by your new master’s creativity and your own capacity to willingly surrender. But at all times you must remember this: the safe words of Eros House are binding. Universally, unquestioningly. All staff, all guests abide them, and it is your Responsibility to safeguard yourself with them as well. Should you ever need to halt a situation for any reason, you have only to say the word ‘red’ and all play will immediately cease. ‘Yellow’ means time out; a renegotiation. ‘Green’ means go. Any reported violation of the safe words is taken very seriously by the House and will result in the immediate barring of the offender from our premises.
“We may like to see you cry, my dears, but we want you safe. Every single person here is here to have a good time. And to fuck, of course.”
In the silence that followed her words, Agrippa scanned the couches and settled her gaze on a girl with red hair to my right. “You. Stand up.”
The girl looked around and stood uncertainly. Agrippa rose from her armchair, walked slowly around the low table, and trailed a laquered fingerprintnail up along the girl’s freckled arm. She wound a lock of red hair around her finger and gave it a little tug, while with the other hand she plucked a pair of ornate shears from an end table.
“Lovely curls,” Agrippa said, caresingly. The girl’s eyes grew wide. “What is your name?”
“Lily.” The red-haired girl blinked.
“Lily. I would like you to address me from now on as Mistress. Can you do that for me Lily?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
With a steady hand Mistress Agrippa raised the shears and made a swift, straight cut. Lily gasped auditively; the front of her dress gaped open where it had been slashed down the front. Agrippa continued cutting away Lily’s clothes until she stood before us naked, the scraps of her dress puddled at her feet. She was almost shaking, her nipples taut. I saw desire thick in her throat.
Agrippa stood back to admire her handiwork.
“At the same time, I encourage you to push yourself while you are here,” she continued. “Have the courage to explore. To try things. To trust your master, to trust yourself.”
Agrippa laid the shears back on the table with a sharp clack and ran a fingertip up Lily’s spine. “That’s where the charge is.”
A knock came at the door, just then, causing a startled gasp from Lily.
“Ah, here they are,” Agrippa said. “Come in, girls!”
Half a dozen or so beautiful women, all dressed in sheer, rose-coloured lingerie, filed into the room and slide onto the couches between the rest of us.
“Hi,” smiled one of them as she sat beside me. “I’m Marigold.”
Marigold looked like she was conjured from a Playboy magazine. Underneath her negligee her areolae were adorned with a ring of rhinestones that turned nakedly through the fabric.
“Students, meet the house harem,” Agrippa said, affectionately. “I am their Mistress. Whether you’ll be seeing more of them or not depends on your new master and my own plans for them. But tonight, they will prepare you for your first evening at Eros House, so enjoy the gift of their company.
“It is my sincere wish that each of you finds what you’re looking for over the next two weeks. I look forward to getting to know a couple of you very well indeed.” With that, Mistress Agrippa leveled a searching gaze at every one of us before turning sharply on her heels and, with a small smoke on Lily’s bottom, leaving the room.
“All yours, girls,” she called, over her shoulder.
“So what’s your name?” asked Marigold. She smelled of jasmine oil and her smile was genuine.
“Perdita Price.”
I could feel her body heat as she leaned closer to me.
“C’mon,” she said flirtatiously, and grabbed my hand. “Let’s get you feeling nice for your first night.” I followed her,Along with the other harem girls and students, to an adjoining room thick with steam that featured several large jacuzzi tubs on raised platforms. Gently, Marigold brushed my hair over one shoulder and began to unzip my dress. She folded it, placed it to the side, and slide my panties down my thighs.
“Oh, you’re lovely,” she said, looking at my naked body. “He’s going to like you, I can tell.”
“Do you know who my—my master’s going to be?”
“Not usually,” said Marigold, “but I may have heard something… You have an unusual name.”
I stepped into the steaming, fracture water. Marigold sank into the jacuzzi behind me. She hadn’t removed her own clothes, and the gauzy fabric clung wetly to her body, revealing in entirety what before had been half-hidden.
She said, “now just relax: I’ll take good care of you, I promise.”
As Marigold began to pour hot water over my shoulders I sawed, feeling some of the day’s tension leave my body.
“How long have you, um, been here?” I asked, awkward in the silence as she began to wash my hair. Should I have said working here? Living? I feel myself a painful neophyte.
“Awhile now. But let’s not talk about me,” she said. “Tonight is about you! Your first day. Are you having fun?”
Rivulets of warm water ran down my back, followed by the smooth touch of Marigold’s fingers.
“It’s—I still feel like I don’t really know what to expect. But so far it’s… nice.”
“Oh?”
There was a swish of water, and I could feel Marigold’s body pressed up against my back. Her breath was warm in my ear, as she reached around and squeezed hot water from the sponge over my chest.
“I saw you looking at my tits before,” she said conspiratorially, dropping the sponge and trailing wet fingers lightly over the front of my shoulders. “Are those nice, too?”
I feel my face grow fiercely hot, and swallowed before answering.
“Yes,” I said.
“How nice?”
“Very…”
Marigold pinched my nipple playfully and hugged me closer, causing the little rhinestones around her nipples to bite into the skin of my back. Her other hand disappeared beneath the sudsy water and stroked my thigh, and I let my head fall back against her shoulder as I felt the first swell of arousal. Marigold’s fingers travelled up my thigh, combined through my pubic hair. She gave the short curls a slight tug.
“You know they’re not for you, though,” she continued. “These ‘very nice’ tits belong to my Mistress, and are for her and her chosen guests to enjoy. You are new. And a bottom. If it’s tits you want to suck on, you had better hope it pleases your master to grant that wish. Otherwise,” Marigold drew back and resumed pouring water over my hair. “Otherwise, you’ll just have to long for it, I guess.”
After that, it was strictly business… or, almost so. Marigold bathed me with an intimate touch, and her body brushed against mine in the warm water more than I suspected was strictly necessary.
Afterward, clean and towelled and still millily loopy with arousal, I sat at a dressing table while Marigold rubbed my skin with scented oils. She handed me a sleepless white blouse and mid-thigh skirt of soft blue fabric.
“Here, put this on,” she said, and when I did she studied my reflection in the vanity mirror. On either side of us, the other new arrivals were being Similarly attended, and the sounds of laughter and conversation filled the room.
Marigold dried my dark hair, gathered it into a loose twist, and began applying a light touch of makeup.
“Don’t you wanna know who your new master is?” she said, brushing eyeshadow onto my closed lids.
“Yes.”
I opened my eyes to see her smiling impishly. “Too bad I can’t tell you then. You’ll find out soon enough!”
“That’s just…” I searched for the words.
“Mean?” Marigold laughed. “Oh, just you wait, my dear.”
As a finishing touch, she reached in front of me to pull out a drawer filled with a jewellery tray and selected a pair of simple hanging pearl earrings.
“These, I think,” she said. “There. Finished! How do you feel?”
I regard my reflection. I looked nice, though my outfit wasn’t anything I couldn’t have wound around town, in daily life. But I found, as I looked in the mirror, that though my attire may not conform to What I imagined of a BDSM retreat, I felt some of my earlier appreciation eased by the process of being thoughtfully prepared, made ready for whatever adventures awaited me in Eros House.
“Thank you,” I said, and Marigold smiled.
“My pleasure. Now come: it’s time to meet your master.”
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