Cindys Humble Servant Ch 04

Peter's business was very successful, to a large extent because Cindy was so efficient. She was number two in the company, answering only to Peter. She was very good at her job, and she could have found a position with another company easily, but she did not seem to have such ambitions, because she was proud of what they had made of the company in six years of working together, and because she was comfortable where she was. Peter had often offered Cindy a higher salary, but she would not take it: she said when they earned more money she would take a higher salary.

Peter's was the only office on the third floor of their building. There were four offices on the second floor, and Cindy shared an office with the four Chinese girls who worked directly beneath her. The office for the foreign staff was beside her office, and twelve foreigners worked in this office, mostly young men. These young men were all enamored of Cindy, and Peter was convinced that they felt the business was a success because of Cindy, and not because of him.

Cindy dressed very casually at work, and wore librarian glasses. You would not immediately recognize how sexy she was, until she began to move, and to speak with her strange and rich voice. She was flirtatious at work, without seeming in any way slutty or available. She would slap other staff members on the back or on the ass as she passed them in the halls, and speak to them in a jokingly strict tone. All members of staff felt privileged and charmed when she gave them directions. She was not like any other person. She was natural, and straight, and though she always seemed to say and do the first thing that came into her head, she was actually very careful, and never did or said anything that would make her lose face.

Although he always longed to, Peter avoided going into Cindy's office unless he had some important business. He had learned to avoid hanging around in her office without a purpose through frequent cool and humiliating rebuffs. Usually, he and Cindy communicated through the company's intranet message function.

On Monday morning, Peter sat in his office working halfheartedly, waiting for Cindy to log on. She was in later than usual, but when he saw her log on, he sighed with relief, and his heart rose up from the choking depths of his belly. He didn't think he could run this business without her: he needed her in every way.

Cindy did not contact him through the message system, and he could think of nothing that he needed to ask her, though he so wanted to communicate with her in any way. He wanted to go down to her office, but he was afraid and ashamed to face her after what had happened on Friday night. He recalled that she had instructed him not to bother her at work. He continued to work half heartedly for a few hours, and then his heart leapt as he saw that he had received a message from Cindy. The message said "Come down."

Peter typed back "coming," and then went down to her office. He had butterflies, and his heart was in his throat as he entered her office. Cindy had turned her chair around from her workstation, and was seated facing two of the young foreign men who worked in the office beside hers. They were chatting in a friendly and casual way, and Peter did not dare to interrupt. Cindy did not look at him, so he stood waiting as they continued with their small talk. He noticed one of the young guys look at him and then grin at the other guy. Cindy must have noticed this as well, but still she did not look at Peter as he stood there waiting. Peter felt his cheeks turning red as he realized everyone must recognize that though he was the head of this company, and a mature man of forty five years of age, he stood here waiting on these young people like the lowliest of office clerks.

Cindy's face was bright and smiling as she spoke with the two young men, but when she turned her head to face him, the laughter and light left her face and was replaced by a cold, unrecognizing neutrality. She handed him a document and said, "This is Colin's report. Go and proof read it, and if you have any suggestions let me know." Peter took the document and said meekly: "Sure thing. Thank you Cindy." As he left the room, Cindy and the two young foreigners resumed their chatting. Her voice was like music.

The rest of the week continued in this way. Peter spent most of his time in his office, completing tasks that Cindy had assigned him. When she wanted to speak to him, she called him down to her office, and gave him directions briskly, and in a painfully business like tone. When he looked at her, he used his eyes to silently plead with her to show him some warmth, but her gaze remained frigid and distant, as though daring him to say a word that was not related to business. His pain and his sense of loss were exacerbated by hearing and seeing her laugh and joke warmly with all others but him. The other members of staff had noticed the way in which Cindy was dealing with Peter, and they became more stand offish with him, and sometimes he heard them snicker behind his back. He felt so alone up in his office, and he felt ashamed and isolated when he passed through other portions of the building.

He once asked Cindy if he could give her a lift home after work, but she said "No. Don't need," so rudely that he did not dare to ask again. He so missed the way things had been between he and Cindy, the little warmth that he had had from her, and the occasional chance he'd had to drive her home, and he reviled himself for having thrown this all away. Somehow, though, the cold way she treated him made him so horny, and he had a constant desire to wank, and to degrade himself, to become the person that she now considered him to be.

Peter did not know whether or not Cindy and Brian were keeping in touch. She left work every day at five, and he did not know whether or not she and Brian were talking on the phone, or meeting in the evenings. He wished Brian would contact him, but he did not. He considered contacting Brian, though he had been instructed not to. He began to feel that if it made Brian angry, and brought on some sort of punishment, that would be fine, because now he loathed himself so deeply for having lost Cindy's friendship, and reduced himself to less than nothing in her eyes, that he craved any sort of punishment. In the evenings, he looked at photos of Cindy on his computer, and wanked, but he did not let himself cum, as he felt he didn't deserve it. He was so horny all day every day.

On Thursday afternoon, he received a text message from Brian. It said: "Be at Laura's place at 9:00 am Saturday morning. Shave all hair from your body below your neck. Master." Peter was both delighted and terrified. He had had so little chance to see Cindy this week, and he was eager to see her, in any capacity, on Saturday. If Cindy knew about this appointment however, she gave no indication. When he stood beside her desk, listening to her give him an assignment, he attempted to gauge from her expression whether or not she knew about Saturday, but he could not tell. Her expression remained closed to him. She looked at him only with Siddhartha eyes.

Peter knocked at the door of Laura's apartment at precisely 9:00 am on Saturday morning. He was careful with the time, as he knew that she would catch him on any detail, and he knew how cruel she could be. Laura bellowed "Come in," and he did his best to cover over the loathing and resentment that he felt in his heart for this big, vulgar Yorkshire girl. It is all for Cindy, he reminded himself, as he stepped into the room. Laura and Steve were lounging on the sofa in their pajamas watching a DVD. There were breakfast things on the coffee table in front of them, and the apartment was a mess. There no sign of Cindy and Brian.

"Into the spare room, and change into the clothes that you find there," Laura said.

"Yes Ms," Peter said meekly, and went into the spare room. He was afraid of her.

There was no furniture in the spare room, but for a mattress in the corner. In the center of the room, on the hardwood floor, were white stockings, a white garter belt, the blonde bob wig, a bottle of baby oil, white, high heeled sandals in a large size, and nothing else. He took off his clothes. He was not sure what to do with the oil, but spread some over his body. He pulled the stockings up his hairless legs, fastened the garter belt, snapped it to the stockings, and put on the blonde wig. He stepped into the high heeled sandals. His cock was standing straight up and stiff, waggling lewdly in front of him at the thought that Cindy might at any time arrive and see him in such outrageously minimal attire. A small tear of pre cum had gathered at its eye. He went to the door and opened it. It was so awkward to walk, and even to simply stand in these heels. He stepped into the room, awkwardly, but attempting to move in a feminine way, as Laura had instructed him. He was afraid if making and small mistake. He clasped his hands behind his back and stood meekly, looking down, waiting for command.

They looked at him for a few moments, chuckling but saying nothing, and then Steve said "Wow, it's got a big cock."

"A big cock is no use on a sissy bitch, is it," Laura responded as she got up and walked toward him. She walked around him once, and then took his earlobe and pulled his head down slightly. With her free hand, she slapped his ass hard. "That is not nearly enough oil. I want your cock and ass glistening. Now get back in there and put on more oil!"

"Yes Ms," Peter said. She slapped his ass again as he turned to go back into the room. He applied much more oil to his body, in particular to his cock and balls. He applied more than seemed reasonable, as he did not want Laura to have any reason to rebuke him. As he stepped back into the room, he felt so slick and slippery. His skin was glistening. Laura seemed satisfied, and she ordered him to put away the breakfast things, and clean the apartment thoroughly. Peter went to work, grateful for the chance to lose himself in the tasks at hand, taking some satisfaction from the knowledge that he was doing this for Master, and through that connection doing this for Cindy. Though she might never recognize or acknowledge that this was all for her, it was indeed the case.

Laura and Steve continued to lounge lazily, watching DVDs. Though he hid it beneath his meekness, he felt contempt for them. This contempt, though, was moderated by the gratitude that he felt toward them for having given him the chance to submit to Cindy, even by these three degrees of separation: he served them to serve Brian, and he in turn served Brian in order to serve Cindy.

For the most part, Laura and Steve ignored him as he went about his work. It was difficult for him to move about in the high heels, let alone to move in a feminine way, but Laura occasionally corrected him, and offered instruction, mostly when one of them had called for something from the kitchen, and after being instructed to exit and reenter a few times, he began to get the hang of it, and moving in a feminine way in the high heels began to feel natural.

He prepared three sandwiches for lunch, and was asked to join them. They ate at the sofa, and he was asked to put a plastic shopping bag on the small sofa which he had sat on with Jared, so that he did not get oil on the furniture. He kept wondering where Cindy and Master were, and if they would arrive.

After lunch, he tidied up, and then Laura told him to go to the room and put on more oil. He came back, and then Laura put on a DVD of strippers dancing. She told him to copy what they were doing. He followed the actions of the strippers, while Steve and Laura smoked joints and drank tea. Occasionally, Laura rewound the DVD, and asked him to repeat a certain move, until he had it perfectly. He was kept at this for hours. Laura encouraged when he performed well, by telling him that Brian and Cindy were going to love his show. When he had trouble performing a particular move, he was punished by a few sharp strokes of the cane to his ass and thighs.

By early evening, Laura had choreographed for him a two part dance, the first part standing, and including individual lap dances to she and Brian, and the second part a floor show. In both parts of the dances, he assumed a series of the smuttiest and most submissive postures imaginable. He was wearing no panties, and at first he felt so uncomfortable spreading his ass cheeks toward them, blowing kisses at them from over his shoulder, and looking back at them upside down from between his knees, but then it became natural, as he began to feel like the object he had become. His cock became so hard any time they mentioned the possibility of Cindy witnessing his show. He could not bear the thought of the shame, but at the same time it was the most arousing thing he could think of, to give himself up so totally to her, to let his devotion to her drive him to become nothing.

They ordered dinner in, but did not let him stop dancing when the delivery girl arrived. His back was to her, and he could not see her, but he heard her giggling at the sight of his gleaming, hairless ass. They ate the same way as they had eaten lunch, and the plastic shopping bag crinkled under him, and stuck to his ass when he stood. After he had cleaned up, and begun to dance again, Steve pointed out that the lettering of the shopping bag had been transferred to his ass.

He was exhausted from dancing all afternoon. He was down on all fours, thrusting his oily, hairless ass up toward them as though begging to be fucked, when Steve's phone rang.

"Hey Brian, what are you guys up to?"

Slave halted, shocked, but Laura hissed at him "keep going," so he continued with his routine.

Brain continued on the phone: "Sounds nice. Is the beautiful Cindy taking a drink?. . .Tell her I told her to take a drink, and to enjoy herself. . . Not bad, not bad. . . It's cool, you guys should check it out. . . Yes, he's here. Laura is teaching him to dance. . . It's fantastic, you should see it. . . No doubt . . . You two guys enjoy yourself, and have fun tomorrow. . . Cheers. Later dude."

Peter was squirming around on the floor now as he continued to follow the dance Laura had choreographed for him. His cock was rock hard, and drooling pre cum, from having been close to Cindy's presence by proxy. His heart was cinched tight with jealousy and loss. As he rolled over on his back, however, lifted his legs straight up in the air, and spread and closed them, he recognized that he was worthless, that he was nothing, and he felt a strange comfort in this, knowing that he had assumed this condition as a gesture of devotion to the highest ideal, as an act of love for Cindy. One day she would surely recognize all that he had given up for her. . . His heart fluttered with a shock of fear, knowing that this thought was in direct disobedience of Master's first command: that he should abandon all hope of his love ever being requited by Cindy.

"Right," Laura said as he completed his routine for umpteenth time that day, "Time for beddy bies. The adults have had enough and we are going to watch a movie. Toodle on."

Peter went to the bedroom, making sure to wiggle his shiny ass when he walked, as Laura had taught him. He was very tired, and he slept soundly. He dreamed of Cindy, but he could not recall what he had dreamed, only that she had been present in his dreams. His heart felt light though, and he presumed this was because she had been kind to him in his dreams.

The next morning, dressed as he had been dressed the day before, and again doused in oil, he prepared breakfast, and again tidied the apartment. He washed their socks and underpants by hand.

After he had completed his tasks, he reported to Laura and Steve, who again sat on the sofa in their pyjamas. He was ordered to perform the dance that Laura had choreographed for him again. He was again encouraged by being told that Cindy and Brian would be proud of him, and rebuked for shortcomings with harsh words and sharp cracks of the cane across his ass and thighs. After running through the routine several times, he stood meekly in front of them, panting and exhausted, with his arms crossed behind his back.

"That's very good," Laura said, "but you will need to practice every day on your own, until it is perfect. You want it to be perfect if you ever have a chance to dance for Brian and Cindy, don't you."

"Yes Ms," Peter said.

"Ok," Laura continued, "so far you have learned part one and two of your routine. Steve has an idea for the third part, and you are going to learn that now."

Steve, grinning, handed Peter a piece of paper. On it, were drawings of stick figures in different postures. There were eleven postures, and these were numbered two to twelve.

"The first thing is the postures," Steve said, taking two dice from the lower part of the coffee table. "Somebody rolls the dice, and you take the posture. You can look at the pictures now, but by the time I see you again, you will have to have memorized these. Let's begin." He rolled two dice, and said "Seven."

Peter looked at the paper for the appropriate posture, and then got down on all fours, with his back arched, and his head and his ass up high.

"Spread your knees wider," Steve said.

Peter complied.

"Wider."

Peter spread his knees wider. He felt so open behind.

Laura turned on the television, and they left him like that for a few minutes. Then, Laura rolled the dice again: "Two."

He looked at the sheet, stood up and spread his legs as wide as he could. They left him like that for a few minutes, while they chatted, and half the TV. They rolled the dice several times, and Peter assumed the postures presented on the sheet provided by Steve. He felt very tired, and he felt like an object.

Steve took out his mobile phone, and set the stop watch to 3 minutes, but did not start it. "This is the fun part now. Start stroking your cock."

Slave whimpered in shame, and began to slowly stroke his cock, while remaining in the appropriate posture, on his knees, knees together, back straight.

"After three minutes, we will roll a single dice. If we roll a one, you have ten seconds to cum. If you don't come in ten seconds, you lose the privilege. If we roll anything else, you remain in the posture you are in until we roll two dice again, continue. Do you think you can do that?"

"Yes sir," Peter said, still slowly stroking his hardening cock.

Laura rolled two dice, and said "four." Steve started the stop watch.

Steve assumed the appropriate posture, legs spread, and bent over resting on one hand, looking upside down through his spread knees. He continued to stroke his cock.

"You need to keep turning around slowly," Steve said, "so that everyone can get a good look at you. You should turn two complete circuits during the three minutes."

Peter began to turn slowly, still stroking his cock.

"Brain and Cindy spent the weekend together," Laura teased. "I think they're over at Brian's place now. Think about what they are doing. Think about how lucky Brian is to kiss her, and to feel her body. . ."

Slave whimpered. She had pressed the right buttons. He was so horny now, he would cum in an instant. He stopped stroking, for fear he'd cum too soon.

"Don't stop," Brian said.

Peter began to stroke himself again, but very slowly. A string of pre cum stretched from his cock to the floor. He could not stop groaning, and grinding his ass sluttishly.

"Oh lovely, aren't you a sight," Laura said.

The buzzer went on Steve's phone. Peter tugged so delicately at his cock, his head was spinning. He teetered at the precipice. He was ready to shoot with a single tug.

Laura rolled the dice: "Six."

Peter let out a pained groan. Steve rolled two dice, and called out "Twelve."