The Initiation
soppingwetpanties
This story is a follow on to Slut E. It can be read alone, though you'll benefit from the context of the first story, "Slut E." It's dedicated to Boxwood, a thoughtful person with a twisted imagination.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years or older.
It was half past midnight and Edith was the last one up, washing the dishes from Acadia's supper and after party at her expansive Somerset County horse farm and estate. The kitchen was dead quiet as Edith carefully dried and put away the fine china used during the dinner service. Andrea, a feisty short haired buxom blonde, was picked by Acadia to be the sub in charge, and with Edith being the newest of Acadia's subs, she was assigned the scut duties apropos for person sitting on the bottom of the barrel.
Edith knew that Andrea didn't like her and didn't know why. Edith would soon learn that jealousy was a powerful motivator. Andrea loved her new position and rightfully saw Edith as a threat. After all, Edith, a half Indonesian, half Caucasian woman was stunningly beautiful, as well as hard working, intelligent and ambitious. Andrea was attracted to Edith, and that bothered her.
Edith was dog tired and sore after being on her feet (or knees) all day, helping with both the lunch and dinner service and the clean-up as well as attending to the sexual "needs" of Acadia's guests. As the founder of Karike & Holden, a well-respected regional accounting and consultancy firm, she was used to a leadership position, running her practice from a well-appointed office in a swanky suburban office building, not being a newbie housemaid and sex slave in someone's else's house.
As Edith polished and put away the silver she thought about her new life, and having an accountant's mindset, created a mental balance sheet of what she'd given up and what she gained. The giving up part was easy to quantify: luxury apartment in Midtown Manhattan, late model German sport touring sedan, designer clothes and all the other accoutrements of new found wealth. What she gained was trickier to quantify. It clearly wasn't the accommodations or the treatment she received at Acadia's estate. Both were horrible. It was freedom. The freedom not to worry about her quarterly board meetings, making the bi-weekly payroll, and complaining clients. The freedom to feel, not think. The freedom to act on her basest impulses without the fear of being judged by others.
It was the first time Edith felt free, unshackled from her colorless corporate life, an empty shell covered with pretty wrapping paper. Acadia helped her come to the realization that her true calling was as a submissive slut. Acadia, the valuable client, became Acadia, the all-consuming Mistress.
Edith slid the silverware drawer shut and drew a deep breath before going up the two flights of stairs to the "dormitory." The dormitory was a cramped unfinished attic that was converted to sleeping quarters for Acadia's subs. It lacked air conditioning and lights, so it was perpetually hot and stuffy, and but for a small four panel window, was dark during the day and pitch black at night. There was one bathroom at the far end of the room that lacked a door for privacy and a seat for the toilet.
During the previous evening Edith had been hazed by the other four subs, three women and one man, led by Andrea. Edith had willingly fucked, sucked and licked all four of them, all under the watchful eye of Acadia's video cameras. Edith wondered what was in store for her that night.
* * *
It was an unseasonably warm night, so the attic, with no air conditioning and only a faint breeze from the single open window, was stifling. Edith only had the light of the crescent moon to navigate her way past the sleeping subs to get to her assigned spot next to the bathroom. Andrea had a bed to herself, and a top sheet; the others, like Edith, slept naked directly on thin, stained mattresses.
Edith could see the curves of Andrea's hip and shoulder under the sheet as she passed her. She felt an unnatural attraction to the short blonde, unnatural because Andrea had been nothing but mean to her. Yet Edith craved Andrea's attention and didn't second guess her attraction. She had learned to listen to her body and not her mind.
In the dim light Edith saw fragments of exposed bodies -- an open mouth, curls of long hair, an arm and a slim breast, hips and asses, long legs, and a full breast. She wanted to touch them, to explore their curves, but she remembered how they had used her the previous night, not with a sensuous touch but roughly and crudely, laughing as they held her down and made her respond to them, overloading her senses with raw, lustful emotions until she bucked and came with a whimper of unquenchable need.
Edith stumbled into the bathroom, placing her bare ass directly on the frigid rim of the porcelain toilet. She relieved herself and left the bathroom feeling hot and clammy, naked, except for the belly chain and tags all of them wore. It was so typical of Acadia to have taken the humiliation of wearing a pet tag one step lower; the second tag with the bar code reduced them to property, or merchandise to be located. She thought about having had to basically hump the gatepost to be allowed to enter the estate, was that only a day ago?
Edith laid down gingerly on the thin mattress and tried to go to sleep. The other subs were asleep, or at least pretending to. She was still sweating in the sauna like conditions in the attic and could sense the dried cum matting her hair and pubic patch. After her twelve-hour work and fuck session she would have settled for a cold shower if she was allowed to have one. But showers were reserved for the early morning..
Edith had one eye open and saw a shadowy figure pass her on the way to the bathroom. She heard the sounds of urination and then hand washing. A few moments passed and then a cold, damp hand touched her shoulder. Edith could see in the faint light that it was Andrea's hand.
"Miss me E?" Andrea asked in a low voice not to be heard by the others. She was there to dominate Edith and show her who was boss. Andrea's hand traced lightly over the borders of Edith's curvy hips and toned thighs. The intimate caress raised goosebumps on Edith's arms and legs. It was the attention she desperately craved.
"Yes," Edith answered truthfully.
Edith watched a kneeling Andrea move her hand between her legs and run the edge of her hand through her hairy slit. Her hand went under Edith's nose. It had the unmistakable odor of pussy and piss. Andrea leaned over so she could whisper in Edith's ear. "I didn't wipe myself after I went. Do you want to lick me?"
