This story continues on from "Irina Is Sent to School". This chapter works as a stand-alone story.
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Valeriya prided herself that she could turn any boy or girl into an obedient slave given time. So was gratified that during the course, Irina had discovered a previously unknown submissive side to her personality. She would now make an extremely attractive slave or 'companion'.
Irina had felt surge of confidence as she changed from her skimpy uniform into her normal Chanel. As she put on her earrings and pearl chocker, she realised how much they meant to her. She looked great and knew it. All the tutors and her fellow students had congregated on the veranda as Valeriya presented her with a certificate that she was now qualified as a 'Domestic slave'. The atmosphere was happy and relaxed.
As Irina circulated, she displayed her old easy charm; having a nice word and appropriate joke for everyone. It was such a relief to be back in control.
As she looked on, Valeriya realised how much she had grown to like Irina. So it was heartening that Irina responded to her heartfelt hug. Valeriya desperately hoped this might mean her affection was reciprocated. It deeply saddened her that they were very unlikely ever to meet again. But losing your favourite students was the curse of every devoted teacher.
After the final goodbyes, Irina was relieved to get into the back of the Mercedes. Kirill, the chauffeur, was normally chatty; in fact, he tended to be so ingratiating it irritated. But this time he was thankfully silent. Either Sergei had told him to be quiet or he was at last learning some emotional sensitivity. This suited Irina, she had a lot to think about. She hoped what she had been through would not filter down to the servants' quarters. It would not be seemly for them to know 'the lady of the house' had been trained as a sex-slave and had been forced to prostitute herself in the most humiliating fashion. She would let it be known she had been attending a seminar on nineteenth century Russian literature, that should satisfy their curiosity.
As she sat back she wondered what effect the course would have on her relationship with Sergei. Was he angry or horny? She gazed at her 'Certificate of submissiveness'. It had been a hard fortnight, but she could not suppress a feeling of pride that she had survived the course. She hoped that Sergei would appreciate her efforts and wondered if she could expect a present; a diamond, another Rolex or perhaps a trip to Paris.
Irina was tired by the time they arrived home. She grabbed her Louis Vuitton bag and made for the front door. Dmitry, their butler was on duty, but instead of the effusive welcome he normally gave Irina, he merely said, "Miss Natasha has asked to speak to you. Would you please follow me?" Irina was not in the mood to talk to the tart; doubtless she was going to beg for her job. Irina had already decided that she would have to go and that was the end of it.
Dmitry knocked on the door of Irina's private quarters. What the hell was Natasha doing in her room? As she was about to bollock the girl she noticed the changes, the room had been redecorated in her absence ... no, it was just all Irina's personal possessions had been removed.
Natasha was wearing her gym kit showing off her near perfect body. She stood in the middle of the room, hands on hips, clearly confident of her position, "Ah, Irina, good to see you. You will find that there have been a few changes here since you left. The first is that Sergei and I have become an item. He said we were just made for each other. We have just got back from a romantic week in Paris; long walks, wonderful restaurants and even better sex. You should see some of the dresses Sergei bought for me. As you know he can be so sweet. I don't think I have ever been so in love. Anyway Sergei thought you are a little old to take over my place on the G650, so we agreed you could become my maid."
Irina was speechless, the little bitch going behind her back. She wondered how long the whore had been fucking Sergei before she had got this commitment out of him. The ingratitude, she had always been nice to the girl. OK she could never remember her name but whenever she had noticed the slut she had said 'thank you' and made the sort of banal conversation you were expected to make to servants. Now she was to be her maid, she couldn't believe it. Irina took a deep breath, there was no point making a scene, as there was nothing Sergei hated more than 'bitch arguments'.
"Now please remove your watch and all your jewellery. I will keep it for the time being." Irina obeyed as if in a trance, "Dmitry will take you to your room. Your uniform is in the cupboard. Change and be back in ten minutes, so we can go through your schedule."
Irina went to pick up her bag, but Natasha was too quick, "No Irina. I will take care of this."
Irina just managed to say, "Yes of course," before Dmitry gently took her arm and led her out of the room. Vladimir and Kirill followed them up the stairs, looking almost theatrically thuggish. Irina was stunned by what she had heard. Instinctively she turned to Dmitry hoping for some advice or perhaps the admission that this was all a joke. But he spoke first, "Irina, I do hope you will not give me any trouble. From now on, you will call me 'Sir'. You are to be under my supervision when Miss Natasha is away. She has told me to treat you like any other junior maid, so you must not expect any favours. You have much to learn about life 'below stairs', but with some discipline I am sure we can make you into at least an adequate maidservant."
Irina could not reply and merely followed Dmitry as he led her to a room on the top floor. She was shocked; it was little more than a cell with a barred window at one end and a door that could only be locked from the outside at the other. It was about twenty feet long and eight wide and had little in the way of comforts with bare wood flooring and whitewashed walls. There was a small shower cubicle to the right of the door, beside this was a toilet, a wash basin and then a cheap chest of draws and a cupboard with a single bed at the end of the room. Irina swallowed hard, she prided herself on never losing her cool, but this was awful.
She needed to think and think quickly. As soon as Dmitry left, Irina stripped off and got in the shower. Natasha could only have moved into her old room at Sergei's invitation. It was also obvious from Dmitry's demeanour that he knew she had been superseded. They were clearly both confident that Irina would never regain her authority. She knew that there was absolutely no chance of escape as Sergei had phobia about security and the house was better guarded than most countries' gold reserves. So the only way of sorting this out was to speak directly to Sergei, ideally talk him round to taking her back, if not at least getting him to allow her to leave.
Irina skipped out of the shower and quickly dried herself with a tiny towel that felt like sandpaper. Sergei's car wasn't in the drive so she reached for her phone ... but it wasn't in her handbag. She had called Valeriya a few minutes before she got home, so Dmitry must have removed it when she was talking to Natasha. She knew she would just have to accept the situation in the short term and pray Sergei returned soon.
Realising the door had a peephole she did not feel comfortable walking around naked and went to the chest of draws. It was filled with black underwear, but this was not the elegant silk Irina was used to, it was all very brief and was made of polyester satin. Most of the other drawers were empty, except that of the bedside cabinet which was full of sex toys. Masses of them. Irina noticed a dozens of condoms, creams, restraints and two vibrators, one of which was huge. Did Natasha really think that this was how she would spend her off-duty hours?