The door chimed softly, breaking her reverie.
It was around 10:30 in the morning. She'd risen, worked out for two hours as her Master instructed her, and then showered. Now she was reclining in the sunroom, reading through the stack of national newspapers as part of her daily duties.
Ethan had been quite determined that all of her skills would be put to use during her service to him, and so the past year had seen her become intimately involved in his investments and holdings. To her surprise, the Red Crane, despite its preeminence from a social standpoint, was but one of many businesses he'd bought up. Part of her job, then, was to use her skills as an academic to glean what information she could from the news and prepare summaries for him.
At the moment she was working her way through the New York Times. A cooling mug of herbal tea sat on the kitchen table, next to the Blackberry he'd given her.
As always, she was nude save for her collar and the two rings he'd placed in her nipples. Lately, Ethan had taken to linking them with a fine platinum chain, the better to torment her, he said.
Sometimes it still amused her to no end that she was made to dress like a whore, but act as his analyst. That he valued her as much for her gift for statistics as he did for her pussy.
But he'd told her that her insights and advice had pleased him, had made his investments grow. And since she existed now only to please him, she had made her daily research a priority.
The door chimed again, and she looked up, brushing one stray blonde curl out of her face.
She wasn't allowed to get the door. She was, after all, a bound slutslave.
Answering the door on her own initiative constituted an act of will; and was thusly strictly forbidden. Usually, when the door chimed, Kami or Ethan would instruct her what to do, and then go and answer it
Neither, however, was anywhere to be seen. Jen could guess what they were up to, but it was possible that they'd gone out.
Normally they didn't receive visitors. No deliveryman or courier was allowed past the secured gate at the end of the road leading up to the main house. So whoever it was must have known how to get past it.
That means it's someone we know, Jen thought to herself as she idly twirled her curls. But we're not expecting anyone today, not until Thursday.
The door chimed again.
Almost immediately, the intercom set into the wall near the refrigerator crackled to life. "Jen, get the door. I'm busy."
Well, that answered that question. Her Master was home.
She rose from her chair and quickly padded over to the intercom and pressed the 'transmit' button. "Yes, Sir. What shall I tell them if they ask for you?"
"Handle it. I'm busy." His end clicked off, but not before she heard a faint gasp from the other end. So he was working, after a fashion. It wasn't unknown for him to take trainees into the house, those cases that required his special attention.
But there hadn't been one since they'd hosted Erin and her husband all those months ago. She'd hoped on some secret, selfish level that he'd abandoned those pursuits. She'd hoped that her total submission following her betrayal in Texas would have served to convince him that she was all he needed.
Apparently, she was mistaken.
She knew on some level that it was simply business. That his talents as a dominant, as a trainer, were simply in demand, and that he needed to take an active role on occasion.
That didn't mean she had to like the realities of his profession, however.
She might be a submissive, might have conquered her raw sexual hunger, but that inner yearning to have him all to herself hadn't abated in the least.
Was he training Kami, she wondered? It was possible, but the redhead was such a paragon of submissive virtue these days that she didn't think it was possible. No matter what he seemed to ask of her, the redhead did eagerly.
When the door chimed again, she jumped. She'd been so busy thinking that she'd neglected to answer it.
The silence from the intercom told her that he was displeased. She would be punished later, she realized. And not in a fun way.
As she reached the main hall, Jen briefly considered putting on some clothing. A sheer baby doll of the palest green was kept near the door for her, on the odd chance that she ever needed to be presentable. Jen shook her head and reached for the door. Wearing the baby doll actually made her feel more exposed than when she was totally nude. She didn't understand why, but putting it on made her feel vulnerable in front of others.
Of course, Ethan knew that. Which was why he'd placed it by the door. He knew it would torment her to constantly wonder whether she was supposed to wear it or not.
For the moment, however, the answer to that question was no.
With a twist, she opened the door and looked around. She almost didn't spot the woman until she was turning to go back inside, half convinced the door was malfunctioning.
But there she was, a supplicant kneeling on the doorstep, awaiting an audience with her master. A small suitcase sat off to one side; the kind large enough to hold one change of clothing at best.
"Look, Miss," she began, having been briefed once by Kami on what to do in these occasions, "Master Ethan doesn't take applicants like this. You need to apply directly to the Red Crane. Wait here and I'll call you a car. You can get dressed.
Jen stood at the doorway and stared in amazement. She'd reached a point where very little surprised her, but the sight before her was simply so unexpected that she let out a loud gasp as her pussy flooded with heat.
Suchin knelt before the door, her head pressed to the stone terrace. She was utterly nude, not even a collar adorned her lean body, though much of her back was inscribed with the whorls and sigils she'd seen that evening in Texas.
Those must be new, she thought. I don't remember them from the dance floor.
Sensing her presence, the prostrate woman began to speak in a voice marked by the faintest accent of her native Thai. Her tone was loud and clear, despite its obvious sadness. "Master Ethan, I ask that you accept this offering as a sign of my contrition. I have always ..."
"Wait, Suchin," she said quickly, embarrassed to be hearing this obviously prepared statement. Jen knelt down and cupped the beautiful face in her hands, oblivious to any breach of protocol that might be. "Let me get Master Ethan before you say anything more."
The Asian beauty looked up at her, tears in those beautiful almond eyes, and nodded once before lowering her head back to the floor. Jen rose and turned on her heel and went back into the house. Stepping over to the intercom in the foyer, she pressed the button once more.
A moment passed and then Ethan's voice sounded out from the wall. "Yes? What is it? I told you not to bother me with this."
Keening wails poured out of the speaker box, making Jen's mouth dry with desire.
"Master," she began, unsure how to frame her statement. "You need to come up here. There's a gift for you."
There was another long moment of silence and then the intercom went live again on his end. Jen could hear those ragged moans ... she knew the person by the particular tone of those cries ... and frowned. She'd disturbed a training session; someone else was receiving the gift of her her master's attentions.
Secretly, she wished it was her on the other end of that microphone, that her body was afire from the crop and the flogger, that her pussy might be aching from the denial only he could extract from her. Since that afternoon in the Red Crane in Texas, she'd come to realize that she had developed a real craving for the whip. Ethan was quite generous in indulging that appetite, but only to the extent that it left her constantly yearning for more.
"Fine," came the reply at last. She knew he'd deliberately let her hear what he'd been doing, but she wasn't sure whether this was to titillate or to punish. After what only seemed like a few moments, Ethan strode into the foyer. His strong frame gleamed with a sheen of perspiration, and he was nude. Ethan held a length of leather cord in one hand, wrapped around his fist. More importantly, she saw that the heavy length of his cock glistened with another's wetness, and felt her mouth go dry with hunger for the taste of it.
He was upon her before she was ready, taking her by the thin chain that ran from one nipple ring to the other. She hissed as his grip tightened, standing up on her tip toes with the intense current of pleasurepain that flowed through her breasts and down into her body, stopping only at the hard bud of her clitoris.
Suddenly she was impossibly wet, her clit ached and her mind fled down a dark corridor to the place she wanted to be. As she wrestled to regain her composure, to fight off the fugue, she dreamed of riding him, of digging her nails into his back as he filled her.
Ethan slapped her across the face to bring her back to a measure of rational thought.
"What is so important you called me away?"
Still, Jen couldn't speak, so hard was her heart beating with the sensations coursing through her. Summoning all her willpower, she pointed to Suchin. Ethan looked past her finger, and smiled, and then stepped around her, releasing his tight grip but leaving his index finger hooked around the chain. She tottered after him, trying to keep up ... but not too much.
What had they done to her in that room that she'd developed a genuine hunger for pleasurepain, she wondered. Jen wasn't sure she'd been conscious for all of it, and the intensity of her training still eluded clear recall.
Ethan walked out onto the terrace before the main door, his blonde slut in tow, and let out a sharp laugh. She saw his smile widen. He snapped his fingers without looking at her and she quickly knelt before him, leaning in to take his shaft in her mouth.
Jen purred with satisfaction at the taste of Kami on his cock.
She began to lavish her affections on the hard length of his shaft with her tongue, the better to taste her slutslave sister.
"Speak, Slave." This was for Suchin, not for her.
Once again, the clear, sad voice: "Master Ethan, I ask that you accept this offering as a sign of my contrition. I have always held you as a friend, and so ask that you forgive me."
Suchin paused, obviously waiting.
Ethan sighed. "This is from your master?"
"Yes, Master," she said, "I was sent her as atonement for his sin. To repay you for the offense given when he took what was not his."
"And how long are you to be with me, Suchin? How long before your master considers his debt repaid?"
"Forever, Sir. I am yours now." And with that the beautiful slave at Ethan's feet began to sob.
Despite the warm joy of Ethan's cock in her mouth, Jen felt her entire body go cold. Suchin had just been given to Ethan by Starke to atone for his actions at the party. She understood it, but the reality of seeing a fellow submissive dismissed from her master's service still chilled her to the bone. Could that happen to her? Would Ethan ever be in such dire straights that he'd send her away as payment.
She relaxed the muscles on her throat and leaned in, straining to take in more of his shaft, as if that would relieve her anxiety. That cruel fate would never happen to her, she resolved as the smell of her Master's body filled her nostrils.
She would only know his service.
