Anari found the building, on her first visit, cold and uninviting. Truth be told, if there were a possibility of running away from her desperate situation she would have done. She had found herself getting deeper and deeper in a clinging quicksand of debts, from which there was little escape. She shuddered as she remembered the expression on her bank manager's face when he had told her that her circumstances were much worse than she had feared. Anari's options were bleak, to say the least.
A light at the end of the tunnel had been offered when she had seen an advert in the local paper. It had read:
"Servant required to take care of a demanding Master. No experience necessary. Once initial training has started you will be unable to leave the house for a period of exactly one month. Non-negotiable. Providing satisfactory training is completed, your position may be extended permanently."
The salary stated for such a position and for one month was ridiculously high. She had figured someone had made a mistake and she had called the number on the advert just to satisfy her curiosity. But a secretary had answered her call efficiently and confirmed that yes, the salary was correct. Would Anari like the position? Anari immediately said yes, wondering only later at the lack of interview and filling out of application forms. All the secretary had wanted from her was a brief description of herself for the butler, so he would know to let her in, and her measurements so a uniform could be made up for her. The secretary reaffirmed that once she had entered into the contract for the initial training period, she would be unable to leave. Anari confirmed that that would be fine, jumping at the chance to make so much money so quickly.
When she knocked on the door a man greeted her. The butler, she guessed. He was tall and well-built, with short, sandy blonde hair and tanned skin. Anari liked the look of him. He wore a serious expression on his face, however.
'You must sign the contract here,' he indicated. 'As soon as you have signed you will remain here without question for the one month training period. You do understand there is no breaking the contract? There is no get-out clause. So you must be certain of your decision.'
Anari nodded at him and signed the piece of paper waiting on the highly polished desk. She could not think why she would want to get out of anything that was going to earn her such a large amount of money in such a short time. He handed her a black bag containing her uniform and showed her to her room so she could change into it.
'This will be your only clothing from now on,' the Butler told her, indicating the black bag. 'You must wear it all times,' and with that he left the room.
Anari noticed with some surprise how small the bag containing her uniform was. She put it down on the bed and wandered over to the window of her room, looking out over the extensive parkland stretching into the distance. It was certainly a big house but also secluded, surrounded by trees at the front, set back from any road by a half-mile driveway. Anari turned away from the window and opened the bag, tumbling the contents out onto the bed.
She gasped. A small black and transparent lace dress, black shoes with a very high heel, stockings, a pair of knickers that was little more than a minute triangle of sheer, see-through material, and a lacy cap. She picked up the dress. No skirt -- the black bodice ended at her waist. At the front a transparent white lacy apron hung down, barely enough to cover her crotch, she thought. The skimpy cups for her breasts were also transparent, as were the small shoulder straps. She fingered the silky material of the bodice.
And then she shivered. Unaccountably, she suddenly felt she was being watched......
From the room next door, through the two-way mirror, the Master gazed thoughtfully as he saw Anari inspect the clothing. As she began to undress, he leaned forward with increased interest. He watched carefully as Anari stripped to her lingerie and then started to slide her bra from her shoulders. He studied the pert, rounded breasts. 'She's perfect,' he said. 'You did well to select her, Miss Simpson.' His secretary, standing next to him, smiled. 'Yes, our tame bank manager has come up with the goods this time.' 'It was a very clever idea of yours to explore that avenue, Miss Simpson,' said the Master, looking intently at Anari as she stepped out of her knickers and stood naked. 'Well, knowing what we do about Mr Black makes it difficult for him to refuse any of our requests. And when he said he had this girl who was badly in debt...' The secretary smoothed down her hair. 'Yes', she said thoughtfully, 'she certainly is very attractive.' The Master smiled. 'Maybe you'll have your chance later, Miss Simpson...'
Anari picked up the knickers and gingerly slipped them on. The sheer material covered nothing. Her pussy, displaying a small triangle of dark hair, was clearly visible. Behind, the thin string disappeared into the crack of her rounded ass-cheeks. Anari began to feel apprehensive. Maybe this was not a good idea, in spite of the money? But she remembered the contract she'd signed. Reluctantly she put on the stockings and stepped into the high heels. The dress itself was a tight fit, as it obviously was intended to be. She inspected herself in the mirror. Her breasts were thrust upwards, in spite of no bra, and her nipples were only just covered by the neck-line. The apron ended high on her thighs, exposing her stocking-tops. She turned slowly round, looking at her image in the mirror. She looked a tart, a slut, everything was on view. But at the back of her mind she also knew she looked very sexy. Automatically she straightened the seam of her stockings.
A discreet knock came at the door. Nervously she opened it, feeling practically naked, pulling down the apron as low as she could. It was the butler. His eyes flickered quickly over her body then his face resumed its impassive look. 'If you're ready, Miss Mitchell,' he said, 'the Master will see you now.' He raised his eyebrows inquiringly. 'Yes...yes,' muttered Anari. 'I am...ready.' The butler nodded, allowed his glance to flit over her cleavage then turned and strode off down the corridor. After a brief hesitation, Anari followed, her legs feeling like jelly. Down the wide staircase and through a door off the main entrance hall into a room that was obviously the library. There, seated at his ease in a large leather arm-chair, was the Master, Miss Simpson standing by his side...
