Cindy's Humble Servant

On Monday morning, Peter sat in his office waiting for Cindy to log on to the internal message system. His cock had begun to resign itself to its caged condition, and was not raging as furiously against its confines. This seemed to have affected his mood, as he now felt somewhat meek, peaceful and resigned.

Cindy logged on, and he sat waiting for her to send him his tasks for the day. He poked around at a long term project for about an hour, and then received two documents from Cindy, accompanied by a message saying "please proofread these for me, Thx."

Peter opened the documents that Cindy had sent. They had been written in the style that Peter had taught Cindy to use for her administration duties. There were a number of errors typical of Cindy's writing, resulting from a combination of laziness and unfamiliarity with the language, and Peter corrected the wording, the spelling and the formatting, to produce the following:

Punishment Administration Form

Punishment application made by:

Reason for punishment:

Punishment to be administered by:

Date and Time:

Location:

Nature of punishment:

Comments on Peter's behavior during punishment:

Signature of punishment administrator:

Slave Loan Satisfaction Form

Agreement for loaning of Peter made by:

Peter has been loaned to:

Date and Time:

Services performed by Peter:

Comments on Peter's behavior:

Signature of borrower:

When he had completed correcting these documents, he sent them back to Cindy through the internal messenger service.

About fifteen minutes later, Cindy walked into his office without knocking. He stood to greet her. She was dressed professionally. She wore a black skirt to just above her knees, black leather boots that covered her calves, black nylons, a black blazer and a white blouse. Her hair was tied back, and she wore her glasses. She carried a few folders.

"Good morning, Peter," she said in a friendly way. She sat down on the sofa beside his desk, but did not ask him to sit, so he stayed standing, facing her. "Are you comfortable?" she asked, glancing down at his crotch with a trace of a smirk, and then raising her eyes to meet his, her jaw set and defiant in its neutrality, her eyes twinkling and taunting with a trace of mockery.

Peter looked down in shame. Her legs were crossed, and he looked at her nylon covered knees, and the first few inches of her thighs.

"No Cindy. It is very difficult."

"Maybe you get used to it." He looked up to meet her eyes. There was a trace of pity in her expression, and then her face dimpled in its warmest of smiles. This smile caused Peter's cock to swell uncomfortably in its cage, and he let out a sigh of frustration and discomfort. He realized that Cindy's beauty was now a menace to him, that she was dangerous to him. It seemed as though she felt free to smile at him in a friendly way that he had not seen since the first night of slavery, because she realized this too. She seemed to be more at her ease with him now that he was less than a man.

"You can sit down," she said warmly, with her strange, charming voice, which was both deep and high at once, running through all the spectrum of sound.

Peter sat, and Cindy opened one of the folders, and handed him a company envelope and half an A4 page. (Cindy believed in saving paper.) The page was a punishment application form, and the details had been filled out in pen, in Cindy's handwriting.

Punishment Administration Form

Punishment application made by: Cindy

Reason for punishment: Peter two times tell Cindy he love her, and do not give up on Cindy like he promise Brian.

Punishment to be administered by: Laura

Date and Time: 07/09/02 6:00 pm

Location: Laura's apartment

Nature of punishment: 20 hits with cane. 20 hits with hair brush.

Comments on Peter's behavior during punishment:

Signature of punishment administrator:

As he was looking at this, Cindy spoke to him in a soft and comforting tone. "Brian ask me fill this form out. You need take it to Laura tonight. When she finish punish you, let her put the finish form in envelope. Brian want her sign her name where she close envelope, so you can't open before give me back tomorrow. That OK?"

He looked back to her. She was so beautiful and proud; his heart felt as though it flipped in his chest. "Yes Cindy," he said meekly. His love for her was his only reason for being. The cock cage felt uncomfortable, and he shifted his position in the chair. She seemed to understand that the cage was hurting him, and her face dimpled in a compassionate smile. She was leaning back in the sofa, her legs crossed, her boots pointing toward him. He wanted to throw himself down on his knees and kiss her shiny boots, but he did not dare. He let out a little whimper, and looked up again to her face, his eyes pleading mutely for mercy.

"Laura say you won't be able to sit down for the next few days," she said with a tender smile. She held his eyes with her Siddhartha eyes, looking inside him, curious to know how he felt as he began to understand the reality of his position as a slave. "I advise you don't make her angry."

"Thank you Cindy."

"Brian want you dress in maid outfit when you go to see Laura, and wear clothes he gave you over top."

Peter nodded, and when a trace of firmness entered her pleasant expression, he said "Yes, Cindy." The firmness left her face and she smiled.

She mused for a moment, gazing at him. "Those gray clothes so ugly. That why Peter want you wear them. You know this?"

"Yes Cindy, I know that."

She stared at him for a few moments. "How much money do you have?"

"I only have 100 left."

"That not bad." She opened her wallet, and took out some money. "Now I give you 1000. Maybe that can last two weeks."

"Thank you, Cindy." He took the money that she handed him, and then she stood up and put a notebook open on the desk beside him. She was so close to him, and he could smell her body. He felt a pain in his poor cock, and squirmed in his chair.

"You sign here for this money." She leaned over the desk beside him, and her tits were near his head. If he turned his head they would be in his face... He squirmed in his chair uncomfortably. Now, her nearness was a menace to him. He thought of the horrible pink tube, and its yellow smiley face.

He took the pen she handed him, and signed for the one thousand RMB. She took the notebook back, and held out her hand for the pen, which he handed to her, admiring her perfect, varnished nails. She stepped back toward the door. He stood and faced her, to see her out.

"Remember," she said, "you need be there at 6:00 this evening. Maybe you need leave here early."

"Yes Cindy."

She held open the door, and turned back to him. She said, with a trace of pity under a business like expression. "Last time we only give you ten beats with cane. Tonight is 40. Maybe hard for you." She compressed her lips, and exhaled through her nostrils in an expression of concern, tempered by determination. "This what you want. I don't feel sorry for you. You can't blame someone else." She met his eyes, and smiled at him sadly, like a concerned friend. She said softly, and sincerely, "Good luck," as she left the room, and closed the door behind her.

Through the rest of the morning, he received quite a bit of work from Cindy through the internal message system. At 4:00, he sent her a message saying "Hi Cindy, may I please go home now. I have quite a few things to do."

After several minutes, she replied "OK."

He left the office at 4:15. He needed to hurry home, shave his body and get changed. He knew how Laura would react if he wasn't thoroughly shaved. As he passed Cindy's office, he heard talking and laughing. The door was open, and he dared only glance in. Cindy and some of the Chinese girls were chatting and giggling with some of the young, foreign male members of staff. He kept his head down, and hurried on.

He left his car and walked toward Laura's apartment. Young, well dressed people sneered at his ragged grey track suit. He noticed some foreign guys pointing him out to their Chinese girlfriends, and these girls assuming expressions of distaste. He knocked on Laura's door at 6:00 exactly. When she opened the door, his heart quavered to see her menacing expression. She obviously did not like him. Laura was wearing tight shorts and a tight T-shirt. Her legs were smooth, and her tits huge. She really had the body of a porn star. She glared at him saying nothing, so he handed her the note and the envelope, and said in the false female falsetto she had taught him to use, "Cindy asked me to give this to you."

She snapped it from his hand, and said sharply, "Go change," pointing at the small room.

"Yes, Ms." He walked to the room in the simpering, wiggling way that she had taught him to walk. He noticed that a straight backed wooden chair had already been placed in the center of the room. Steve was seated on the sofa, drinking a foreign beer from a long necked bottle. There were two empties and another full bottle on the coffee table in front of him.

"You don't need the maid's outfit," she called after him.

He closed the door behind him, and took off the grey tracksuit. He took off as well the maid's outfit, leaving him only in stockings, panties, suspenders and the pink cock cage with its yellow smiley face. He put on the blonde bob wig, and then the pink cocksucker collar. He stepped into the white sandals. He was trembling with fear and anticipation.

He stepped back into the room. Laura and Steve were both seated on the sofa now. "I'm ready," Peter said softly. He curtsied. He needed Laura to be merciful.

Laura said "There," and pointed at a spot in the center of the room.

He stood at the spot Laura had indicated, meekly waiting. Laura took a mannish swig from her bottle of beer, and then came over to him. She walked around Peter, inspecting him. She lifted the heart shaped tag that hung from his collar, and said to Steve, "It says faggot."

"How very apt," Steve said drolly, and took another swig of his beer.

Laura tugged down Peter's white panties to his knees. "Bend over and hold your ankles." He complied, and then she spread his ass cheeks with two fingers.

"You haven't shaved well enough back here," she said crossly. "This will go in my report."

"I'm sorry, Ms," Peter squeaked, his head near the floor.

Without asking him to straighten up, she went and took something from a drawer, and came back and sat on the straight backed chair.

"Get over here" she said.

Peter straightened up, and hobbled toward her as femininely as possible with the thin white panties stretched between his knees. She held in one hand a heavy wooden hairbrush. He stood in front of her, and she took a hold of his pink cock cage. "Very cute," she said with disdain. She patted her lap, and said, "Get over my knees."

Peter laid himself over her lap. His cock cage rested against her bare leg. She pushed him forward, so his head was near the floor, and he was resting his upper body weight on his hands. She encircled his waist tightly with her free arm.

"Keep count," she said.

"Yes Ms," Peter said timidly.

The crack of the hairbrush was loud and stinging. She alternated between the two cheeks, striking exactly the same part on each cheek: low, and central, the part for sitting. The pain became more and more intense as she proceeded. The two spots on his ass felt as though they were on fire. When he squirmed, she cancelled the previous blow, so that all in all he received about twenty five swats of the hairbrush.

When she finished, she stood up, and he rolled onto the floor, and he stayed on his knees. He rubbed desperately at the two burning patches on his ass. His panties were still around his knees. He face was scarlet, from pain and shame.

Laura went and got the cane. She walked toward him, and whistled the cane in the air. He cringed in fear.

"Shall we get started immediately with the cane, or would you like a few moments to compose yourself," Laura said with false fairness.

"Please give me a few moments, Ms," Peter whimpered, terrified by the sharp whistling of the cane through the air.

Laura nodded, and went and sat on the sofa beside Steve. "Pull your knickers back up and dance for us. She lifted the remote control, and flicked through the start of a few songs before stopping at a bouncy number by Kiley Minogue: Can't Get You Out Of My Heart.

Peter pulled up the tiny panties, and began to perform the dance Laura had taught him.

Laura and Steve kept calling out instructions. "Smile. . . Look like your enjoying yourself. . . Put more feeling into it. . . Arch your back. . . Be sexy. . ."

Peter did his best, bending, stretching, wiggling, humping, pumping, blowing kisses over his shoulder, and sucking his finger with a big smile.

When he did his lap dance for Steve, Steve pushed the head of one of the empties between the cheeks of his ass, pressing Peter's panties against his anus. He had Peter lick the tip of the bottle, wink and smile.

While giving Laura her lap dance, when he turned his back to her and wiggled his ass, she slowly stripped his panties down his shaven legs as far as his ankles. She said, "Step out of those and turn around." He turned around to face her, and she was holding a long feather. "Spread your legs. Wider. Keep grinding your hips. Keep smiling."

She began to tickle his balls softly with the feather. While she did this, and he ground his hips and smiled, she whispered softly, secretively: "Cindy and Brian are spending a lot of time together recently. I guess they're together now. They suit each other. Cindy is really glowing these days. Don't you think they make a good couple?"

"Yes Ms," Peter whimpered.

Peter's cock began to swell within the cage, pushing the sleeve down along the lengthening shaft toward the head. This in turn pulled the ring behind his balls forward painfully. His stomach hurt, as though he had been kicked in the balls. He sighed and groaned softly with pain, but did his best to comply when Laura told him to keep grinding his hips, to keep smiling.

She continued tickling his balls with the feather, and continuing to whisper secrets to Peter: "You didn't think you could keep a star like Cindy hidden away in your silly little company did you? That girl is made for better things. Maybe she's kissing him now. Imagine kissing Cindy, those big luscious lips were made for kissing. Maybe they're fucking now. Think how nice that must be for Brian, how warm, soft and wet inside. How does your cock feel now in that hard little tube?"

He had stopped grinding and smiling. His eyes were clenched tight in pain, and he was whimpering.

"Are you ready for the next 20?" Laura asked.

"Oh, yes, please Ms."

Steve and Laura laughed to hear his enthusiasm.

"Right," Laura said, standing up, cane in hand. "Bend over and touch your toes."

As with the hairbrush, she had him count, and when he squirmed, or stood up, she did not count that stroke, so that he received about twenty seven strokes in total. He was crying after twenty, and sobbing after twenty seven.

"Put on your knickers," Laura said. As he did this, she went to the dining room table, and began to fill in the punishment application form. When his panties were up, he stood there waiting for her to complete the form, still sobbing gently. She looked up at him harshly, and said, "Quit your winging. Be a man about it. You're becoming more and more like a little girl."

"Don't do the crime if you can't do the time," Steve called over.

"Do you know why you were punished this evening?" Laura asked.

Still snuffling, Peter replied, "Because I didn't give up on Cindy, and I told her that I loved her twice."

"That's right." She handed him the envelope with the letter inside.

"Cindy says you should sign your name across the seam where it is sealed," Peter said weakly.

Laura signed the envelope, and then handed it to him. As he took it from her, she said "What do you say?"

"Thank you, Ms."

"Go and get changed and go home, and don't let me see you here again for the same reason. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ms."

Peter changed and went home. He could not sleep. His ass and the backs of his thighs were searing. He looked at them in the mirror, and he felt so sorry for himself.

The next morning, Cindy came into his office at about 10:00 am. She looked stunning. She was wearing a short skirt that came to about the level of her mid thighs, and light nylons. Her thighs looked so rich and full. She wore shiny black leather ankle length boots, and a black, cashmere turtle neck sweater that showed off her full breasts. Her hair was tied back tight and sleek, and she wore her librarian glasses. When she entered the room, Peter was standing beside the desk.

She looked at him distantly, but there was a trace of pity behind the blank mask.

"Are you ok," she asked tenderly. "You don't look very good."

"I'm ok Cindy, thank you. I am quite sore."

"Is that why you aren't sitting down?"

"Yes," he said quietly.

She pursed her beautiful lips, causing exquisite dimples to appear at either side of her lips.

"You can go home and have a rest today," she said tenderly. "If I need you I can send you message."

"Thank you, Cindy."

She sat down on the sofa, and crossed her legs. "Did Laura give you back form?"

"Yes, Cindy. Here it is." He handed it to her, and stepped back.

She opened the envelope, pushed up her glasses with one finger, and began to read Laura's report. She said nothing while she read it, and showed no expression. As she read, he watched her. Her thighs seemed so soft, so warm and so smooth. He wanted more than anything to throw himself down on his knees before her, and worship with his kisses her boots, her calves, her knees and her thighs, to push his face up under her skirt to what lay between her thighs. His cock began to swell, tugging his balls downward uncomfortably. Her face was so perfect, the face of a god. His stomach was sick with the pain in his balls: her beauty, what he valued more than anything in the world, was a threat to him.

She put the form back in the envelope, and placed it on the sofa beside her. She looked up at Peter with some tenderness in her Siddhartha eyes. "Brian said you always wear that thing," she said, gesturing with a nod at his crotch, "will make you smaller down there. You know that's what he want?"

She remained silent, holding his eyes, so that he realized the question was not hypothetical.

"Yes, Cindy, I know."

She sighed, and pursed her lips again. "This isn't good for you. You should stop this. Say you don't want be his slave anymore."

Peter was tired, it had been so hard. He looked down, and then up again to her eyes. "If I am not Brian's slave anymore, can we be friends again, like we used to be."

She looked down in thought, and then back into his eyes, her expression cooler now. "I don't know. Maybe. Maybe no. You need to stop thinking about me the way you do."

Peter exhaled deeply, and looked down, and then up again to meet her eyes. "Cindy, please, I can't stop. . . Please, Cindy, I love you so much. . ."

She stood, with a look of fury flashing in her eyes. "Again! You say again?"

"Oh Cindy, please. . . I can't stop. . . "

"I will tell Brian what you say. He will be so angry."

"Please Cindy, don't. . . "

"Brian is my boyfriend. I tell him everything. I keep no secrets from my boyfriend. Between you and him not my business. If he can't stop you say these things, I will leave here and find work somewhere else!"

Peter fell to his knees, and tears began to flow. "Please don't Cindy, I won't do it again, I'm sorry."

"You too late. I don't know what Brian do to you this time. Not my business." She snatched up the envelope from the sofa, and went to the door. She looked back at him whimpering on his knees, and said. "You go home now. Think about what you did."