Alison

Alison 2- At the Home

Edited by Angel Love. Angel is reliable, knowledgeable, helpful and a very quick editor. Thank you Angel, without your help and support this probably wouldn't be appearing.

Also thank you to those who commented on the first of Alison's adventures. More will follow.

Chapter One – School's Out

Several months after they met, Alison and Stan were still seeing each other regularly. Now nineteen, she had taken to sex with an enthusiasm which would have shocked her parents and friends rigid. Their lovemaking was as intense as ever, and they still played games from time to time, usually Master and slave, which still fuelled and fulfilled her fantasies.

Twice they had found men to witness her punishment and satisfaction, the voyeurs unaware that she knew she was being watched as she moaned and writhed in mock pain and real pleasure. Both were in a local wood. They had walked there one evening as it was starting to get dark, and not too far into the trees Stan had secured her wrists to a tree, and began teasing her with his hands and tongue as he described what was about to happen. He had got as far as raising her top, and unfastening the zip on her skirt, when they heard a car pull up nearby, followed by a door opening and closing. Stan whispered that he would go a few steps to see the path and decide whether to continue or halt. Alison knew he would be nearer to her than the path, so was happy to wait, secured and semi naked while he took a few careful steps away.

Stan, leaning against a tree by a junction in the path, soon saw the stranger, a slim, middle-aged man, dressed in shorts and tee shirt, as this was a warm evening in May. When the man saw Stan, he stopped and appeared indecisive, then turned slightly and took a different direction. Stan could see he would pose no threat, possibly gay, but not looking for trouble. So he returned to Alison and told her what had happened, asking if she wanted to continue.

"Well, I have been such a naughty girl again, Sir," she replied, softly, "So I suppose if my punishment is seen by another I must deserve it," she continued.

Stan went on to tease out of her the imagined things she had lewdly committed, and telling her what the punishment would be as he continued to caress and strip her of her clothing. By the time she was aroused, hot and wet, her skirt in a puddle round her ankles, with her panties round her thighs, and her top secured round her bound wrists, she was in no mood to stop. Even when they heard a twig snap not too far away. Stan again asked if she wanted to continue, and as they had not heard the car from earlier pull away, they knew it was the same man from earlier.

As Stan looked around, off to one side about twenty yards away, stood the middle-aged man, his hand rubbing himself through his shorts. Stan informed Alison and she moaned in delight as he cupped her breasts and played with her erect nipples. Moving to one side to select a cane from the bag they had brought, Stan held out both hands to the man, indicating he should come no closer. The man nodded, and lowered his shorts to free his erection and openly begin to masturbate.

As the cane fell across her naked bottom, Alison softly cried and bucked, with Stan telling her what the man was doing. She wanted to see, but didn't want the man to know she knew, so continued to lose herself in the play and excitement. After punishing her for her misdemeanours, Stan said she would have to give her Master some pleasure, but as she had been such a good girl and taken her punishment, she could have some pleasure as well. As he brought himself to full erection with one hand, he ran the cane between her thighs with the other, watching in pleasure as she began a rhythm of her own, rubbing her pussy lips along the hard slim shaft. Once erect, he stood behind her, opened her cheeks and slid into her from behind as she cried out in pleasure. They both came, she first and he soon after, and when he turned again, the man was gone.

Later they talked and Alison said that she would have liked to watch what the man was doing. That the idea of her turning him on so much he would make himself cum while she watched was such a powerful feeling, but she also liked being watched while the voyeur didn't know. Stan suggested next time they arrange something. So that once she had turned them on far enough for them to begin masturbating, he could wave the man round to face her so she could pretend surprise and modesty, and be all the more excited when she watched the finish of what her sexy, naked body had started.

The second time that is what happened, in the same wood, with a different man. This time, Stan left her panties pulled up until the man came around to the front, about ten feet away. She showed him her nervousness, and fear, swallowing and whimpering, as open mouthed, she looked from side to side anxiously while her panties were peeled down to her ankles, revealing to the stranger her shaven pussy as well as her firm breasts topped with erect nipples. All the while the man was masturbating furiously and came with a cry to match hers as she was being caned by Stan. She almost came herself, just from the idea of what she had made the man do, as well as the sight and sound of his pleasure. Afterwards, their lovemaking was particularly intense, with Alison and Stan lost in a frenzy of lustful coupling.

So it came that school was finished, she would return no more, and had enrolled in a local college to pursue her A Levels. Stan was sad at the thought of her meeting new friends, more mature than her school friends, and resigned to the possibility of losing her soon. However, he kept this to himself, knowing it would not be fair to pressure her into restricting her life to suit his ends.

Alison had her own concerns, her parents were expecting her to find employment through the long summer break, and she was unsure quite where to begin looking. Stan had suggested trying temp agencies, or small ads, but she remained indecisive.

As it turned out, one of Sidney's visits opened the door to a solution that would please them both. Stan's insurance policy had matured, but lower than he had anticipated. He could now afford a stay at the Home where Sidney seemed to live, but only once, and then not for long.

"The thing is, old boy," explained Sidney, "The place is just so exclusive, it is very difficult to get in at all." He went on, "As you know, they only have male guests, and even then only half a dozen at most. The benefits mean that they can't possibly advertise, nor do they need to. Word of mouth does it all, and there is quite a waiting list. They just can't have temporary guests for a week or even two. It has to be three months minimum, preferably six or more."

"Such a shame," said Stan, "I had been hoping this was something we could share again, and now I feel I've let you down."

"Look, it's not your fault the markets are dragging their heels, crikey, even one of the present residents is having to leave, he isn't a happy chappy I can tell you!"

"How long has he been there?" asked Stan, feeling sorry for the man even though he didn't know him. "Just short of a year now," replied Sidney, his voice quietened as he appeared preoccupied in thought. "He usually has six months at a time, and can't afford the next one. He'll have to go to the bottom of the list, you see." He paused, deep in thought, "The thing is . . . if one renews, in advance, one can remain. However, if one's lease runs out, well out is the word."

They fell silent, Stan somewhat down, and Sidney deep in thought.

"There is one chap there who received an honorary stay, and I was just trying to remember how. It was, I believe, because he introduced one of the young caregivers to the Home, and once she had proved acceptable, he could stay as long as she did. Not for free, you understand, but at a much reduced rate."

Stan let the words sink in. "I couldn't. Not possibly. She wouldn't. Would she? She probably would, actually," he smiled. "Well, look Sidney, I'm still close to top of the list you say?"

"Absolutement, old boy. They don't take you off the list until your turn comes, then you have a week to decide. However, in a couple of weeks poor Jeremy goes, if he can't stump up, then I believe you're next."

"But you're only a guest, Sidney!" questioned Stan, "How can you know the names on the list?"

Sidney smiled, a particularly oily smile, and replied, "I know one or two things about the present young administrator that she would rather be kept PQ."

"Sidney!" exclaimed Stan, "That's blackmail, you old dog!"

"Wuff, wuff," growled Sidney as he smiled in response.

They agreed to meet in a week to reassess the situation.

Chapter Two – Answer to a Maiden's Prayer

A few days later, Alison again visited Stan, and while they walked along a quiet stretch of beach he inquired about her job hunting. It wasn't going well, and her parents were putting on some pressure. She was supposed to be out looking even now. He told her he had an idea, and explained about an exclusive rest home, where only wealthy old men stay, and only half a dozen at a time. It was quite a big house, with its own gardens, and exceptionally tightly run. They were sometimes looking for a caregiver or administrator and perhaps, if he could put a word in, she would be interested?

Her concerns were initially that wealthy or not, although she sympathised with geriatrics, she didn't fancy the thought of escorting them to the loo all day, and cleaning up behind them when they didn't quite make it. They laughed at her apt description of the more usual caring roles, and he explained a little further.

"The home is more of an escape from the humdrum of real life. All the guests needs are catered for, and though the caregivers look after any of the guests for most things, each caregiver is responsible for one guest only. The guests are men only, not that old, and quite capable of taking care of themselves. They just choose to live in an atmosphere of upstairs and downstairs, they like the idea of servants to carry out their whims."

Alison readjusted her thoughts, and decided that making tea, etc. especially in a grand house wouldn't be a bad job, but replied that she did need to know more before she could accept.

"Well, I could try and get you an interview, and then all your questions would be answered," suggested Stan.

"How soon?" she asked.

"Hopefully, in a weeks time," he replied.

Sidney and Stan met, several days later, and Stan suggested that his young friend Alison might be interested in a position, if an interview could be arranged soon.

"I'll get right onto it old boy," replied Sidney with enthusiasm. He remembered the episode at Stan's place a couple of months ago, and believed she would be a perfect addition to the staff.

A few days later, when Alison called on Stan, he had a letter for her. Explaining it was sent to his address so she could maintain her anonymity caused her to ask, "Just what sort of place is this?"

"Very exclusive," he replied, holding her chin up to look into her eyes, "and I think the perfect position for a minx such as yourself."

The letter, when she opened it was on very high quality vellum, with a faint watermark that appeared to depict a young woman being whipped in front of two other men, but she couldn't be sure. It read:

Dear Miss Whiteley,

You have been selected for an interview at the Stag's Heaven Rest Home. A vacancy exists for the position of caregiver and we understand you may be interested. Please telephone the number at the top of the letter to confirm your attendance before midday on Monday June 18th.

This is an exclusive and much sought after position, please be aware that punctuality, obedience and polite attitude are all prime requisites of this position, though none higher than complete discretion.

We look forward to meeting you at the above address on Wednesday June 20th, at 2 P.M..

Yours expectantly,

Miles Richards MD, FRCFP and Anne Tripp DS, FRCFP, FRCMP Proprietors and Directors.

He went on to explain that he also had an appointment as a guest, and her eyes brightened as he explained he may be staying there himself for a while. They hugged and as they kissed, one thing led to another, and they were soon enjoying some comfortable positions in his bed.

Chapter Three – A New Position

Alison and Stan arrived at the imposing house a few minutes early, having decided to splash out on a taxi. Stan looked smart in his blazer and grey trousers, shoes highly polished and regimental tie. Alison was dressed in a pale lilac suit, the skirt just above the knees, white blouse, and sandals. Her short blonde hair, recently trimmed, fell just above her shoulders.

The day was mild, and the sun just about to break through as they entered the gate, Stan having announced their arrival over the intercom. As they walked toward the house, they noticed the gardens, spacious and green, with shrubs and flowers, which were clearly well tended. Approaching the main door, they noticed that there were three floors, with windows evenly spaced and a central double door, at the top of some marble steps. Alison thought she caught some movement behind one of the windows, but wasn't sure. A young girl came out to meet them, dressed in simple black skirt, and white blouse, ankle socks and sandals. Alison thought she looked like a schoolgirl. She confirmed their names, and asked them to follow her inside and wait.

The hallway was an impressive, marble floor, with Persian carpets, two wide stairways curving round to a first floor open walkway from a central position, resembling a heart. There was a chandelier and the walls were panelled and had paintings, mostly of military figures. There were single doors to the left and right, and a double door directly opposite the one they had entered. They were asked to wait in a side room, which was furnished with soft pink sofa and armchair, side table and bureau. Fresh flowers lent more color, though the walls took Alison's attention. There were several silhouettes hanging, each depicting a scene of servility or punishment. Each person depicted was sideways on, and there no sparing the blushes as it was clear that the men were well endowed and the women very shapely and naked.

She adjusted her hair and straightened her collar in a mirror before sitting opposite Stan who had taken a seat in the armchair.

"Nervous?" inquired Stan.

"Yes, quite a bit," replied Alison, "I've never had a job interview before, and this all seems so posh and proper."

"Just remember what the letter said about the important points, we've already been punctual, it just needs you now to be polite and behave yourself," he continued, smiling, "if such a thing is possible."

She smiled back, hoping that just being herself would be enough, and that she would be able to tell her parents that she had at last found a job. The anticipation of that alone was causing most of the nerves, it would be so good if she could, and so disappointing if she couldn't.

After a few minutes the young girl returned and asked Stan to follow her, not saying a word to Alison who continued to sit nervously for a further twenty minutes.

Finally, the girl returned. She opened the door, stood in the doorway, and with her hands clasped in front of her, asked, rather haughtily, "Alison Whiteley?"

Alison looked up and noticed the girl's demeanour, "Y . . . yes, that's me," she replied, trying to smile.

"Follow me," said the girl, more coldly than she had asked Stan, as she turned and flounced out.

Alison was on her feet in a flash, trying to keep up with the girl who was already half way up the left-hand staircase. She almost stumbled as she tried to rush up the stairs, before she could catch up the girl had disappeared round a corner. She heard a door being knocked on.

Just as she saw her the girl walked into a room, and Alison heard her say, "Excuse me sir, Alison Whiteley for you."

"Thank you, Maria, send her in," came a firm male voice in response.

As Alison hurried to the doorway, she nearly collided with the girl, Maria, who gave her a nasty glare, and not entirely by accident stepped on her toe as she waltzed out of the room. Alison tried not to grimace in pain, and was dismayed to realize she was now looking flustered instead of cool and collected.

"Good afternoon, Miss Whiteley," said the man, who she noticed was about 50, balding, and wore steel rimmed glasses. He continued, "My name is Miles Richards, and I am the Senior Principal of the Stag's Heaven Rest Home. Close the door please, Miss Whiteley. We prefer most of our discussions to be in private."

She turned and closed the door, then returned to stand at the front of his desk, which she noticed, was dark mahogany, with nothing on it, save a telephone, blotter and closed file. There were two other chairs in the room, also mahogany, but neither was near the desk, and he hadn't asked her to sit so she remained standing before him. She also noticed another door, and on two of the walls there were what appeared to be cupboards, in the same dark mahogany.

Mr. Richards studied her quietly for a few seconds, his hands tented before him, which increased her nervousness, but then he seemed to snap out of some thought, smiled, and asked her to bring a chair nearer the desk and, "Pray, be seated".

She picked up one the chairs, which was quite heavy, and brought it nearer, but not too near his desk, then she sat, primly, on the edge of the seat, legs together, hands in her lap. Again he studied her before asking, "Miss Whiteley, before we go any further, can you tell me what you know of the Home?"

"She thought for a moment before replying, "Well, Sir, only that it is very exclusive; that there are only about half a dozen guests at a time; that caregivers cater to their every need," she paused, then with a smile, "Oh, and a friend of mine, may also be staying here soon."

"Quite so, my dear. Tell me," he asked again, "What do you think, cater to their every need involves?"

"Well," again she thought for a moment, "things like, special dietary needs, medication, exercise, umm, that sort thing?"

"And your friend, Stan? Do you cater for his every need now?" asked Mr. Richards. "Ye-e-es, and no," she hesitated, "I mean he doesn't need much of my care, he seems able to take care of himself mostly."

He sighed, and looked briefly to one side, as if beginning to lose patience. Again he looked at her, and asked, a little more firmly, "Are there any of his needs which you particularly enjoy taking care of?" then more emphatically, "Young lady?"

She reddened in dismay as she felt the interview was going badly, then as she sat wringing her hands, she realized what he may have meant. "Well, sir," she said nervously, "If you mean, um, er, a sex, I, I mean um, love life?" He remained silent. "Well, if you do, sir, then," she looked down and continued quietly, "We do, and yes, it is, good."

"Miss Whiteley, I need you to be open, and honest with me. Not only does your position here depend on this interview and events in the first week, if you are initially accepted, but your friend's stay here will be entirely dependent on yours. If you are not acceptable, nor is he. If you leave, so will he." He paused, and then went on, "So I have been open with you, and I expect the same in return, do you understand?"

She raised her head once more, her eyes shining with moisture. This was not going well. "Y-yes, sir. I think I do," she replied.

"We shall see," he said, quietly, holding her eyes with his. "So tell me, Miss Whiteley, what do you think are the prime requisites of the employees of this establishment?"

"Oh, yes, um," she thought for a moment, "Punctuality, polite attitude, and obedience."