Olivia sat, staring into her cup of tea. After a busy morning at the checkouts, she was glad to be away from the till and quietly stared around her. Across the restaurant, a young woman rustled her newspaper after placing her order with the waitress. Dressed in a navy blue trouser suit and sharp pointed heels, she oozed a raw sense of power and control. Olivia pictured her high up in the boardroom of one of the tall office blocks that jutted from the city, surrounded by her minions, being brought coffee as she twined the employees around her fingers in a game of office politics. Olivia could only imagine how it felt to have people at her command, with the power to influence world economics at her feet.
Behind her copy of the Times, Clarissa closed her eyes and breathed deeply. The morning had not gone well, and she had lost the company a lot of money in a gamble with the Belgians. Cringing inwardly and curling a strand of long red hair around her finger, she tried to push her work from her mind and concentrate on something more pleasant. Lunch was something that she liked to indulge in alone, and whenever she got the chance she would retreat into one of her favourite fantasies. Finding refuge in her thoughts, she began to imagine the scene.
Master had provided her with her attire as usual, and she had dressed accordingly. They had travelled in silence, the sounds of the London street muffled by the car, the only sound shared between them was the calm deep breaths of her chauffeur and her stifled, rapid heaving, the leather corset around her middle restricting each intake as it pinched at her skin. Her buttocks still stung from the barrage of strokes issued upon it after she had dared to enquire as to their destination this evening. She really should no better than to ask questions now, being inquisitive was not a trait which Master approved of. Obedience, trust and devotion were required by him, and she had made them her goals.
Now she sat on reddened cheeks, hidden beneath her tight pencil skirt. No knickers had been provided for her, but he had not neglected her nether regions, preferring instead to spread her anus wide with a butt plug of immense dimensions held in place by a harsh leather thong which reached up to clasp to her waspie corset. He nipples were left uncovered too, and they now rubbed teasingly on the fabric of her cotton blouse as she bounced along the road in the front seat of the merc. Trying to guess where they might be going was fruitless, Master knew so many people and had so many diverse pass-times that she had learned not to second guess him.
Pulling up outside a bar, the chauffeur exited the car and she heard him open the rear door, then the sound of Master climbing from the back. She had gotten used to riding with the staff rather than in the comfort of the back seat, and she waited quietly. Shortly after, the chauffeur opened her door and she slithered out, the corset only allowing for an ungainly slide from the seat and with each movement the leather bit between her legs. Only narrowly avoiding falling, she teetered on her stilettos to Master's side, and obediently followed him into the establishment. Nodding to the door staff, they were let into the premises and down a staircase hidden from the main bar by a curtain. Obviously this was a place that he had frequented more than once.
Carefully taking each stair at a time, she followed Master into the basement where a number of tables were bathed in an eerie blue half-light. Sofas and long padded benches were scattered between the tables. Her eyes adjusted and she took note of a number of well dressed ladies and gentlemen, each accompanied by a solemn-looking partner dressed in similar clothing to herself.
Master led her to a table and she sat down on the chair offered to her without a word. He went to the bar and ordered a large glass of wine, a slave then placed it in front of her, and she took a large gulp to calm her nerves. She had been training to be Master's slave for over two years now, and she was beginning to understand his ways and nuances. Very rarely did he speak to her now, and then only to disapprove or admonish her.
Clarissa recognised one or two of the other slaves sat at the adjacent tables, it was not uncommon for her to be taken out to a club such as this. To her right a young man-slave was sat uncomfortably rigid, and she wondered what kind of contraption he was being forced to wear under his plain black cotton trousers. The look in his eyes reminded her of a wild animal caught in the glare of the car headlights and she knew that he must be new to this underground world. Probably he had upset his mistress earlier and was being punished with an uncomfortably full rectum. Most likely he had a raging erection too, she thought, and her pussy moistened.
Sneaking a look to the bar, she saw Master engaged in animated conversation with another gentleman. She had met this master, Daniel was his name, many times before but he had previously had a female slave by his side. Tonight his slave was male and had already been stripped of his day clothes. Unusually he wore no harness or collar of any kind, the sign of a slave of five years service, one bound to his master so faithfully that no harness could hold stronger than the slave's will itself.
The rules of the society to which her Master was a member were well known to Clarissa now. The ideals and concepts were set out many years ago, and now there were around four hundred members across the globe. Joining the Dante Society as a Master was extremely difficult and the slaves did not know the exact details, but she knew that each applicant must have a large personal fortune and required recommendations from at least four existing members before initiation was begun. Master had been a member for fifteen years now and was well thought of amongst the group. Everyone involved had received a thorough schooling in one of the country's best academic institutions and had a great wealth of classical knowledge. Looking again at the unclad slave, she knew the other name for such a person was a "resident of Dis". Dante's Hell was a common reference for the society after which it was named, and Dis was the city at the centre of the five circles of Upper Hell. Each year of training involved another circle of initiation, and Clarissa had just completed her second, the circle of lustfulness.
She certainly was lustful now as her eyes wandered across the slave's rippled chest as he knelt at his master's side. Her Master was ignoring him, and her for that matter, as she sat gazing at the naked form. Her pussy clenched on itself and her butt plug squeezed through her vaginal wall onto her g-spot as she thought about the slave's cock becoming erect.
Clarissa had just managed to avert her eyes before Master turned around bringing with him a further two glasses of sparkling wine. Sipping hers gratefully, she flushed uncomfortably as the other master and the naked slave joined them at the table. The cotton of her skirt was rough against her clitoris and despite the biting leather cutting into her, she rubbed against the fabric with an almost imperceptible movement. Again her pussy clenched down unsatisfactorily, frustratingly empty compared to her arse, but the fabric sent shivers through her crotch and her nipples hardened under the blouse. Master would see if she didn't take care, she thought, and she bowed her head.
Almost an hour passed, and she sat drinking her wine and listening intently to the masters' conversation. She knew almost everything about her Master now, and she was expected to remember everything which occurred at social events. A slave was used as a tool as well as a toy, and she took particular notice of the conversation between her Master and Daniel.