That day, Friday, was a busy day for quite a few people at Hanson House. Just before lunch Jasminda had presented herself at the main administration offices. Having been summoned without explanation, the young Filipina hoped that nothing was wrong, that she'd not committed any infractions. Perhaps she'd fallen short in one of her classes? Being so tiny was a gift at times (men and women seemed to find her "cute") but sometimes it was hard to keep up with her peers.
She waited in a small outer room, nervous and hungry and wondering what it was all about. Mistress Rose, the head of Hanson House, appeared at the door and Jas almost jumped to her feet. With a soft smile from Rose she was led into the larger office.
Inside was a large wooden desk, an assortment of chairs and three other people. Jas recognised Master Stephen right away. The other two were strangers. They were both heavy set, wearing wore identical black suits - an expensive label Jas thought. One smiled at her. The other sat impassively in the corner, his emotions seemingly hidden behind his bushy moustache.
"This is Jasminda", said Rose to the strangers as she moved to her chair behind the desk. "She is the sophomore I mentioned". Then she turned to Jas.
"Jas, I'd like you to say hello to Mr Al-Assad. He is our special guest. Mr Assad has been visiting this week for a very important purpose." She paused briefly. "Mr Assad is not a part of our usual network. What I mean is, Mr Assad has not previously been known to us as someone who is looking for a well-trained submissive."
She paused again, this time with a soft smile in the direction of Mr Assad. "However, Mr Assad has been very kind with his interest in the work of Hanson House. After much thought, the board has agreed to show him some of our results. He is inspecting several of our students and I have offered you for him to test as well."
That sent a shudder down the spine of the young Filipina. What would it mean to be inspected by a stranger? Jas had come from a conservative, religious family. Some days she still could be shocked at the demands on her as a novice submissive. So far she'd not been required submit to anyone outside of Hanson House.
Rose looked back at Jas. "From now until I tell you otherwise, you will give your full obedience to Mr Assad. I know that you will show him your best."
Jas nodded and, screwing up her courage, turned to face their guest. She saw that Mr Assad was a rather handsome man. Middle Eastern most likely, thought Jas. He also had a nice smile. He held himself in a certain way. Jas couldn't say but there was a casual confidence about him. The kind of thing that characterises judges and surgeons and important business people.
The student waited, trying her best to look submissive and compliant. Right then her main hope was that Mr Assad would be kind to her.
"You will disrobe for me," was the command. Immediately, Jas was removing her shirt. Happily, her training was kicking in. But that voice was so lovely. It really caught her attention. Young Jas was taking an immediate liking to Mr Assad. Or was it only her nerves?
In moments she was totally naked before the two strangers. She felt shame and humiliation. Like this, obeying the command to strip, felt like a kind of admission, a public confession, that she was a submissive and that she wished to serve sexually. Jas was sure that she was trembling, just a little. And yet, already the experience was exciting and liberating.
Mr Assad paused to look over the young novice submissive. He liked what he saw. Mistress Rose had wanted to choose the candidates and he was pleased that he'd agreed. The young Filipina was very sexy. Her shape was not quite that of a full woman and, yet, her small waist and her hips gave her an attractive shape. Her breasts were ideal for such a small frame. He was already looking forward to testing this one.
Assad pointed to the floor. "Afala. Get down." Jas went straight to her knees. She was trying hard to be attentive, wanting to obey this man's every whim. For his part, Assad enjoyed watching Jas complying so easily, watching her small, brown body fold itself into a kneeling position.
"You will show me proper respect," he said. "Kiss my shoes now." This was a new one for Jas, but she did not hesitate. The honour of Hanson House depended on her performance. Jas bent forward on her hands and knees. Gently she pressed her lips to the shiny leather shoe of this new Master. Mistress Rose looked on with a smile, impressed by the ease of Al-Assad's control and glad she'd chosen the young Filipina for this.
Secretly, Jas felt a small thrill at being ordered to honour a Master in that way. She knew all about the feeling of lowering herself before a superior male. The second year females were instructed about it all the time, but Jas had long felt it in her bones. In front of Mr Al-Assad that feeling was suddenly stronger than ever before.
She moved across and repeated the kiss on his other shoe. "Jaeed", he said softly. "That is good." Mr Assad was, indeed, pleased. The reputation of Hanson House was well deserved.
When Assad was satisfied, he ordered young Jas to her feet. With a signal of his hand, she was ordered to turn around. Silently, she complied, knowing that he wanted to see all of her. Jas had never been looked at quite like this. She was accustomed to the gawking of men but this was so different. She felt like a horse at the yearling sales. Her body was on display as much as her obedience. Jas felt the burn of her embarrassment and hoped that her little bottom would not disappoint him too much.
He put his hands on her small tits and squeezed them. Her "brown mangoes", as her roommates had christened them. He decided they were very satisfactory.
The tits felt good but that was not the only test. Assad gripped her dark brown nipples. He twisted them and pulled them, hard. Jas suppressed a gasp but Assad was happy to see a flash of pain across her pretty face. Yes, she was responsive to him.
He ran his hands across her shoulders and down her arms. The young woman's skin was as soft as it looked, her limbs were nicely toned. He was pleased, indeed. Jas thought she saw the hint of a grin on his face and she wondered if he was enjoying her body or her shame.
"I have women like you," he said to her in a firm voice. "They work for me, in my houses and in my parents' house." Jas guessed that he meant Filipina maids, common enough in the Middle East. She took the chance to look at him a little more closely. He appeared to be in his late twenties. Jas could see that he was very close-shaved - a trait she preferred. He had deep, brown eyes and a muscled body underneath his suit. He certainly seemed to be wealthy, or to come from serious money. It never occurred to Jas that perhaps she was being chosen as just another maid.
"But I want more. I am not looking for a housekeeper. I want a 'qinn'. A personal slave. Do you understand?" She didn't really understand because there was only one kind of slave she knew about. But perhaps that was the answer?
Mr Assad smiled that smile of his again. Jas felt her heart warm in response. She sensed something between them. Was it as easy as that? Assad felt it too. He was after a sex slave, a personal slut who he could use and abuse as the mood took him. The principal of Hanson House was allowing him to inspect three of her best prospects. There was something about this one, however, that he especially liked.
With one hand he turned Jas around, so she was facing away from him. Again he noted that the young Filipina was small but very shapely. Assad gripped Jas' shoulder while his other hand grabbed her arse, left cheek first and then the right. It was a good arse, certainly. She was firm and tight and well-rounded. She was young, but Assad guessed hers was a body that could be kept in good shape as she got older.
The whole time her butt was being inspected, Jas felt strangely comforted. The number one lesson at Hanson House was that a submissive always knew her place. "Inspection" was demeaning and embarrassing and yet it was a task she could manage easily.
The stranger's hands lingered on her arse. It seemed he liked what he found. Jas felt him gently squeeze both cheeks and, ever so softly, pat her. The way he touched her suggested, once again, that he was a man who was used to power, who knew he could have his own way. That did make it easier, easier to submit and comply. It was very sexy and Jas could feel her body begin to react.
"Maktab." he pointed. "Go and bend over." Jas realised that he meant the heavy wooden desk. She tried to smile at Mr Assad as she moved across the room. Jas could guess well enough what this was about. The weird thing wasn't that he wanted to see her holes. What was off-putting was that Mistresss Rose was sitting behind the desk, just inches from Jas' sweet young face.
The young student assumed the position, straining to keep her feet on the floor as she positioned her small body. Jas didn't need to be told - she made sure her feet were well apart so that both her holes could be seen, and inspected, by the visitor.