Part 03: House Slaves.
Diane woke and found that her room lights were off. She looked around but had to step into the hallway to find out what time it was. The clock said ten am. She went next door to Jeannette's room, and knocked, but got no answer. She opened the door, and discovered that Jeannette wasn't in there. Wondering if she should get dressed or not, she decided not. They had given her clothes last night, to go to town. She hadn't been awarded clothes yet.
Diane went to the bathroom and then wondered downstairs to find out what was going on. So far, no one had let her wake peacefully. She entered the slave dining room and found that the lights were off and the room appeared to have had no one in it all day. Diane walked to the kitchen, and found Chef, but no Jeannette. "You haven't seen Jeannette have you Chef?"
"Yes, she ate with the masters this morning. They said you'd be down later, and I should give you something to eat."
"OK, do you know where they are now?"
"Jeannette should be in the office, or perhaps on the training floor." Chef turned to the fridge. "How about some eggs and sausage this morning?"
"That'll be fine Chef, thanks." Diane said confused and walked towards the office.
Jeannette was in the admin office punching information into a computer with big dark circles under he eyes. Diane felt sorry for her, and realized that she hadn't gotten much sleep, not if Master Devon had indeed taken her to bed as seemed the case.
"Diane, cool you're up. I could use the help." Jeannette said.
"Why didn't you wake me earlier? I'd have been happy to help out." Diane asked.
"Master Devon wanted to reward you for your expert performance, and felt a little sleep would be just the ticket. Don't thank me yet, you might be going to town again tonight." Jeannette said. "While I sleep."
Diane bit her lip revealing her nerves and nodded. A radio buzzed and chef's voice came over the speaker telling Jeannette that Diane's breakfast was ready."
Diane rushed to the kitchen and returned to the office to eat and work. Joining Jeannette she found that Master Devon had made a list of all the names who had expressed interest in the Vassal Academy, and were punching them into the computer trying to get information on the prospective clients. Jeannette was making folders, that would probably end up being useless, but they were unaccustomed to doing their own security checks and felt that to begin, too much was preferable to not enough.
Diane sat at a computer near Jeannette and started to work the list. A ringing phone interrupted her and she looked at Jeannette to see what was to be done.
At Fort Dix New Jersey, Sergeant Geneva Price had arisen at a very late hour for her, seven thirty. However, she was due to get out of the Army on Tuesday. She had mixed feelings about that. Her life in the army had been pretty happy, but now she was a Sergeant, and she was miserable. She hated being responsible, and she hated having people look to her for answers. At five foot six, she never felt like she had any answers, and was always utterly miserable these days. Most people talk about a time when they were happiest in the Army, for Sergeant Price, that time had been in Basic Training. When she was under total control of the Drill Sergeants.
Later, when she had graduated AIT as a fully qualified medic, she had gone to her first unit in Texas, and been reasonably happy. She was a Private 2, or one bump up from the very bottom. She was given Private First Class, and then the problems started. She was a Specialist, which she sort of considered a very competent Private, but the Army considered training stage for Sergeant.
Geneva hated being a leader, she would get sick when they put her in charge. She talked to her squad leader about how happy she was when she wasn't in charge. Her squad leader had given the Army approved talk about accepting responsibility and the fact that if you didn't get promoted, you had to get out of the Army.
Geneva re-enlisted, did a total of two tours in Iraq, and then decided to get out of the Army.
She had had enough of this shit. She was not a good Sergeant, although her Platoon Sergeant said she was, she was losing sleep, and she was utterly miserable all the time. She hadn't smiled in months that she could remember, and now, in three days, she was going to sign a paper, and walk away from the army, and she had no idea what she was supposed to do then.
Her Brother, well near as anyone knew, her Brother was on the run from the Mob, or had been caught, and the body just hadn't washed up yet. Her brother was a compulsive gambler who had not the slightest idea of what odds meant, just that he could make money if "Gluefactory Reject" managed to finish first in the horse race. Geneva knew that was true, but the odds told the probability of Gluefactory finishing the race, forget being first.
So Geneva was going to stay with her Aunt in Boston while she tried to get on with the Boston Fire Department as a Paramedic. She had taken the courses while in the army, and could be certified as a Paramedic with only a couple more weeks of classes on procedures the way the Fire Department did it. There she thought she could be happy, she could be a fireman/paramedic until she died, and they wouldn't force her to get a promotion or anything like that.
Then it would also allow her to explore Domination, and the glorious submission. She loved to be tied up, she loved to be controlled, and Geneva always thought she was a slave at heart. No one else's happiest time in the military was in basic training. No one liked it, not even the Drill Sergeants. Geneva loved it, and wished that her whole time in the army was like that. She didn't have to think, or make decisions, or do anything that she wasn't told to do.
OK, she was a Medic and that was nothing more than looking at the person, and figuring out what was wrong, and putting a bandage on them until the Doctor could fix it. She handled minor things, sprains, bruises, minor scrapes and the like. Obvious things, anything remotely complicated where the answer wasn't painfully obvious, got sent to a Doctor, which is how the system is supposed to work. She had patched up soldiers and civillians in Iraq, and not minded it too much. She didn't really like it there. She guessed the Iraqi's really didn't like it there either. But she hadn't made any mistakes, and her Lieutenant had given her a Bronze Star for her courage in combat. It wasn't courage, not to Geneva, she had a job to do, she had been told to care for the wounded, and she did it.
Geneva didn't think that she mattered. If she lived, or died, no one would care, or notice really. She just wanted to do what she was told, and she really wanted to find some cute guy who would treat her like those books. Make her kneel, bow, and spank her. Geneva wanted to have her hair pulled and a stiff cock shoved, not slid, deep into her. She wanted to stand before a crowd and be told to perform and all sorts of things like that. The sad thing was, that stuff didn't really happen.
Guys had tied her up, and then just gently fucked her. She had gone out in public without any panties under a mini skirt, and rubbed all over one guy, and he had never pulled her skirt up while she was feigning drunk to the point of falling down. He had fucked her, not all that gently, but it was lacking something. It was like the guys were waiting for her to tell them it was OK. That was most certainly not what she wanted in life.
Turning on her laptop computer that she had bought after her last Iraq trip, she waited while it cycled and then logged on to the net. She checked the news, to see if anyone she knew had died in Iraq mostly. Then she opened her email and scanned the from and subject lines. After deleting the offers to sign up for all the get rich quick work at home schemes she opened one from a friend who was still in Iraq, and tapped a quick response about getting out and keeping in touch. Then she opened one from Cathy her friend in high school who was now a world class gold digger in New York.
That always bothered Geneva and she knew why. Cathy was supposedly the slave of David, and in reality, she had David wrapped around her finger. She told David that she needed manicures, pedicures, and spa days to look beautiful for him. Geneva wished she could kneel before David and show him what a true submissive would do, but knew she wouldn't get the chance. Geneva considered herself plain, and Cathy was gorgeous. There was no other word for it, she was tall, leggy, and stacked naturally. Geneva was short, had a B cup chest, and was sort of stocky, especially after seven years of working out every day in the army.
Reading Cathy's email Geneva swallowed hard. Cathy was pissed off royally about something that happened at the Club de Sade. Some new guy had shown up with a perfect slave girl. Geneva read the next line twice. He actually had the little slut strip in the VIP room and then assume positions of service. He fucking had her kneeling with her mouth open, and then on all fours, and Geneva, I swear her pussy opened on command. Geneva blinked and sat back imagining that. She finished reading and then called Cathy on the cell phone to find out who this mystery trainer was, and who this slave girl was.
She hung up fifteen minutes later hornier than hell. Geneva had listened to Cathy rant and rave about Goddamn Jeannette and that fucking slut Diane who had David pacing the floor half the fucking night. David was royally pissed that he had been shown up in training a girl, and worse, had lost twenty five thousand in the process of being shown up. However Geneva had talked Cathy into reading the card that this Devon had given her.
The Vassal Academy, in Connecticut, apparently just across the line from New York, and there was a name and phone number. Geneva could close her eyes and imagine stripping her clothing off and being told to suck a stranger off. Oh God, that would be heavenly, and the stories that Diane told of this academy of theirs. Whipping across the floor to learn grace and poise. Kneeling and licking to get the technique right. The stories of the sexual training alone had Geneva aching for release.
Geneva wanted to call right away, but it was only eight thirty, and if anyone was up, they would tell her to call back on Monday. OK, she would relax and call in a couple hours, and then she would beg literally beg to speak to Devon.
Cathy had also said that Diane had been hired by this fucking Devon to be a house slave. Geneva glanced at her door, and confirmed that the door was locked. A Sergeant did have one perk, they got a private room. Geneva opened her drawer and took out her masturbation kit. Lifting her shirt over her head, she played with her nipples and got them hard, then she put a cloths pin on each one sucking in her breath as she did so. The pain was intense, and exquisite at the same time. She plunged her hand between her legs and found her pussy hot and wet. God she was such a little slut.
Geneva grabbed her biggest vibrator, and began to plunge it into her pussy. Hard, fast, and mercilessly she frigged her clit. She was horny, and needed this. She needed more though. She needed a level of degradation that would compare with being ordered to blow a guy in the middle of a club in New York. Geneva stopped plunging into her pussy, and looked around. There had to be something that would degrade her, humiliate her. Her eyes lit on the cloths she wore last night, and she knew what to do. She grabbed the panties and flew to the bed. She was now nude on her back, her nipples aching under the pins, and her pussy was throbbing under it's demands. She took her panties that had been worn about all day, and stuffed them into her own mouth, then with both hands began to fuck herself with the big vibrator.
She felt so completely degraded, dirty panties shoved into her mouth, she closed her eyes, and imagined Devon fucking her like this, degrading her, humiliating her, and she was so close to coming. She reached up and knocked the pins off her nipples and came, as the pain of the blood rushing back into her nipples washed over her. Geneva came like a wild cat, screaming into her panties as her orgasm washed over her in powerful waves.
