The Willcotts - Arie

"Yes ma'am, I understand," Karie said to Mrs. Willcott over the phone. "I'll try my best. Goodbye."

Karie was a young assistant professor of History and Women's Studies at one of the top universities in the nation, but as she hung up the phone and leaned back in the comfortable chair in her office, the world in which she lived seemed different, as if a whole new perspective had come into view. She had just had a brief ten-minute conversation with Mrs. Willcott, the mother of one of her freshman students, Alissa Willcott. Karie knew that Alissa was a bright girl who was doing well in her History of Women 101 class, but otherwise Alissa hadn't really made much of an impact on Karie so far this semester.

By coincidence, it just so happened that Alissa was scheduled to visit Karie's office hours this afternoon. Karie would have to think fast; she might not have another chance to speak privately to Alissa for days, if not weeks. As she thought about her conversation with Mrs. Willcott and the impending meeting with Alissa, she lost herself in thought and fantasy, and her hand slipped down between her legs.

After a few minutes, a loud knock on the door jolted Karie back to reality. Surely Alissa wasn't here yet! No, it was probably her 2:30 appointment. "Come in?" Karie invited.

The door opened and the face of a homely girl peeked through. It wasn't Alissa. "Oh, I'm sorry, Emma," Karie said, pretending to have forgotten about her 2:30 meeting. "I'm not going to be able to meet with you today. Do you think you could come back tomorrow or Friday?"

Emma smiled and said, "Sure, professor, no problem." She ducked back out the door and shut it behind her.

Karie suspected that meeting with her professor was the last thing that Emma wanted to do. Any other day, Karie might have felt offended by how eagerly Emma left, but today Karie didn't care. She had more important things to worry about. Alissa was coming!

Karie got up from behind her desk and surveyed the small office. She thought that whatever she decided to do, she should try to make a definite impression on Alissa when the girl arrived. What better way to indicate the change in their relationship than by waiting for the girl on her knees? It seemed like a fine idea, and it made the tingle between her legs grow stronger. She took her place in the middle of the floor between her desk and the office door. The room was carpeted, but after a little while, Karie's knees began to ache. She found she enjoyed this submissive position, but even more than that she hoped Alissa would be on time.

Twenty minutes and two very sore knees later, Karie heard a knock at the door. This was it! "Come in!" Karie said.

The door opened and Alissa, a tall, thin, blonde-haired girl entered. Karie had noticed how attractive the girl was before, but now, from Karie's perspective on the floor, the girl seemed even more beautiful. "Welcome, my Lady!"

Alissa was a bit surprised to see her professor waiting for her on her knees, but not quite as surprised as Karie would have expected. "Oh no," Alissa groaned as she closed the door behind her, "don't tell me . . ."

"I had a conversation with your mother on the phone a little while ago," Karie was eager to explain. "She suggested that I show you a bit more . . . respect -- the kind of respect that a young woman in your social station deserves. Your mother made me realize that even though I'm the professor and you are the student, in other more important ways you are the superior, my Lady, and I am the inferior."

"I knew it!" the coed said, clearly unhappy. "God! I'll bet my mother has called all of my female professors. This is so embarrassing! Listen, Professor, you don't have to . . . do this." She gestured awkwardly at Karie as the woman continued to kneel. "I'm not any more 'superior' than anyone else! I'm just a normal college student!"

"But you're not! I admit that when you first started this semester, I didn't realize who you were. I had no idea that you were one of THE Willcotts. Why, your family could probably buy this entire university!"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Wealth means power, and your extraordinary wealth gives you extraordinary power, the power to do what you want whenever you want to whomever you want. It's your power that brings forth my own subservience, that urges me to kneel before you so I can serve and obey you, my Lady."

Alissa rolled her eyes. "But don't you find it humiliating? Isn't there some part of you that wants to stand up?"

Karie looked down and blushed slightly. "To be honest, my Lady, this is something that I have long fantasized about. Of course, I despise how our misogynistic, male-dominated culture objectifies women, but when it comes to women using and dominating other women . . . well, let's just say that the idea excites me. You have no idea how much scholarly work as been devoted to describing and detailing the debasement that women have suffered at the hands of men over the centuries, but very little research has been done to describe the power relations among women. It's an area of study which has become my field of expertise lately. What I've learned is that there have always been certain women -- certain very powerful and wealthy women -- who have been able to, shall we say, have their way with any person, including any other woman, that they wish. When I spoke to your mother, I realized that she was one of these women -- and someday, you will be too, my Lady."

"But I don't want to be like that, Professor! I keep telling my mother I just want to be normal, but she keeps trying to drag me in to her perverted lifestyle."

"You shouldn't be so resistant," Karie argued. "History has shown that there have always been two classes: the elite few and the subjugated many. With only so many resources in the world, we can't all live among the elite. There must be some people who go without -- or to think of it another way, some people are themselves resources, to be bought, sold, traded, and used. Look at me: I'm an intelligent, educated woman, yet I realize that despite my education, I'm not one of the elites. Therefore, I must be one of those who are on this earth to serve the elite class.

"For example," Karie said, at last getting up from her knees to go to the bookshelf, "there was a Roman empress who used to throw elaborate feasts for other noblewomen where they were attended only by their favorite slave girls. The ladies would enjoy the lavish meal, the very best food and wine that the empire had to offer, while the slave girls would feast on their ladies' pussies. There's another story of a secret society of wealthy, bisexual women in Nazi Germany who took Jewish women and used them as their personal sex slaves before their husbands, tragically, discovered what was going on and forced the women to ship the slaves off to extermination camps. Or -- ah! here's the book! -- there was a 15th century Bavarian princess who liked to treat her ladies-in-waiting like dogs. She liked to take them out to her father's private hunting grounds where they were sent to chase after another lady-in-waiting who was dressed as a fox -- here! there's a reproduction of a woodcut image of the scene . . ." Karie brought the book over to Alissa and showed the page to her student. The engraving showed a lady on horseback watching as half a dozen naked women in collars crawled after another naked woman who wore a fox's mask.

"That's sick!" Alissa declared. "My mother uses women like that, too, but I don't want any part of it!"

"Please, my Lady," Karie said, putting down the book and dropping to her knees once more. There was a growing desperation in her voice as she sensed she was losing Alissa. "Don't turn your back on the pleasure and privilege that is rightfully yours! Subject me to your discipline! Dominate me! Make me your slave!" Karie closed her eyes and leaned forward, trying to kiss Alissa's foot, but she found only empty air. She heard a door opening and opened her eyes just in time to see Alissa's feet walking out the door of the office.

Karie was disappointed, but she wasn't about to give up. She got up from the floor and returned to her desk, taking the book with the woodcut illustrations with her. She set the book on her desk and stared at the images of sexual debauchery, of domination and submission. As she began to caress herself through her clothing and masturbate, she knew this was what she wanted more than anything. One way or another, Karie was determined to make her fantasy come true.

***

"Thank you for seeing me, Mrs. Willcott," Karie said as she entered the older woman's home office. "I know how busy you are." A week had passed since Karie and Alissa's meeting. Karie was dressed professionally, in a navy blue knee-length skirt, a white, short-sleeved blouse, and a brand new pair of heeled shoes. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a neat, simple ponytail, and she wore a modest amount of make-up. Mrs. Willcott thought the girl looked like she was interviewing for a job; she was even holding a slim portfolio folder.

"It's not a problem, Karie," Mrs. Willcott said from behind her desk. "I was actually thinking of calling you back, just to see how things were going between you and my daughter."

"I'm afraid I haven't been entirely successful, ma'am," Karie confessed. "I told her about our conversation, and I've tried to reason with her, to convince her what her role in society should be. I guess I just haven't been persuasive. I'm very sorry."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," the older woman said with a smile. "I'm sure you've tried your best. Alissa has been very stubborn lately. Even her older sister and I haven't been able to get through to her. I just don't know what we're going to do!"

"I promise I'll keep trying, Mrs. Willcott," Karie said. "In the meantime, it's the subject of our phone conversation the other day that is the reason for my visit."

"Oh?"

"Yes ma'am. I've hardly been able to think about anything else since we spoke. It's completely changed the way I think about the world now, especially my research."

"Your research?"

"Yes ma'am. As you know, I'm a history professor. My emphasis is women's history. I had been studying it from a feminist perspective -- looking at how women's lives have challenged the male patriarchal social structures even as their stories have been erased from the phallocentric historical chronicle."

"That sounds interesting," Mrs. Willcott lied. She actually never liked history and she was afraid this young woman was going to bore her to tears.

"It is, ma'am. However, our conversation the other day has altered some of my fundamental assumptions. In fact, in the last few days I've even written a paper on the subject which I hope to present at a conference -- as soon as I can get it accepted." She opened her portfolio and pulled out a thick document. She handed it across the desk to Mrs. Willcott. The title read, "'Dominate Me, Mistress': The Necessity of Slavery in a Post-Capitalist Feminist Society."

Perhaps I was wrong, Mrs. Willcott thought to herself. Maybe history isn't so bad after all.

"If you'll allow me to summarize the article, ma'am, my thesis is that the abolition of slavery in western society is an aberration which will soon be resolved. Marx, I believe, misinterpreted the philosopher Hegel when he predicted a future of constant progress, of increasing rights for the working classes. For most of human history, slavery as been the norm. It is only recently that western societies have abolished it. Thus, the abolition of slavery in history is the antithesis to the thesis of slavery. Eventually, perhaps quite soon, there will be a new synthesis: a society that will merge many of the new rights that women have gained with a reinvention of slavery as an acceptable reification of human labor."

Mrs. Willcott smiled. "So how do you envision this new era of slavery?"

"Well, since my area of concentration has been feminist history, my paper, of course, examines how inter-female relationships will adapt to the new social environment; in other words, I predict we shall see an increase in the numbers of mistresses and their female slaves. Since slavery has historically been practiced by the wealthiest citizens in a kingdom or empire, it makes sense that most of the slaves of the future will also be owned by the wealthy and the ruling classes."

"Yes, that does make sense," Mrs. Willcott said. "So then someone like Alissa -- or myself -- would be likely to own slaves?"

"That's correct, ma'am."

Mrs. Willcott stood up and started walking around her desk towards Karie, who continued to sit demurely in her seat. Karie was forced to look up, and as she did, she saw how beautiful Mrs. Willcott was. She was clearly older than Alissa, of course, but she had the same blonde hair (though with a bit of gray), the same trim figure, and there was a womanly confidence about her that only came with age. In some respects, she was more attractive than her own daughter. "And what about you, Karie? How do you think you would fit in to this new society?"

Karie cast her glance downwards. "Well, my family has never had much money. I attended graduate school at Princeton, but it required that I take out some rather substantial student loans. In fact, I'm still paying those loans off."

Mrs. Willcott leaned against her desk. "So I guess that would make you . . ."

Karie looked up at the older woman. "I would rank among the class of slaves, yes ma'am."

"And that doesn't bother you? That you might have to serve as some mistress's slave? Doesn't it contradict your feminist beliefs?"

"Not necessarily, ma'am. It only requires an abridgment -- a synthesis, to use Hegel's terminology -- of the feminist gains that have been made in the last century. Superior women, such as yourself, would still have complete freedom to do whatever you wish, while inferior women, like me, would proudly enter into our slavery with only one goal in mind: to make sure that you enjoy your freedom to its fullest. It would be like a symbiotic relationship. You would rule and we would serve. You would command and we would obey. You would take and we would give. You would seek comfort and pleasure and our labor would provide it. It's a perfect dichotomy."

"Well, I can see how I would benefit, but I don't see how you would find any satisfaction from the arrangement."

"Yes, ma'am. Please let me explain. As a member of the dominant class, your satisfaction comes from being the recipient of the pleasure and luxury that a slave would provide. As for the slaves, the concept of personhood must be altered in the mistress-slave relationship. When the slave submits herself, and her identity, to the will of her mistress, the slave becomes an extension of the mistress herself. She -- or perhaps I should say 'it' -- no longer has its own separate identity. Only mistresses such as yourself would still qualify as 'persons' while slaves, like me, would be treated like simply a piece of property, an item, a thing. We would be tools for powerful women like you to use. And we would be single-minded in our devotion and our efforts to please you because only through your satisfaction and pleasure would our lives have meaning."

"Aren't you afraid that if you gave up your freedom that I might abuse my power?"

"No, ma'am. By definition, there's no such thing as an abuse of omnipotent power. Whatever you desire is the slave's law. My -- I mean, a slave's only concern would be how to best fulfill your wishes. If I -- I mean, if the slave failed, then discipline would of course need to be employed and the slave would accept it -- indeed, strict discipline might even add to the slave's sense of satisfaction." Mrs. Willcott could see that Karie was starting to get flustered. Her cheeks were turning pink and her eyes were roaming up and down the older woman's body.

"Well, then," Mrs. Willcott said with a smirk as the tone of her voice grew more aggressive, "if your role in life is to serve as a slave, then shouldn't you get down on your knees, where you belong?"

Without hesitation, Karie slid out of her chair and knelt before the older woman. "Yes ma'am -- I mean, yes, my Domina. Slaves, of course, must always kneel before their mistresses."

Mrs. Willcott raised an eyebrow. She'd never heard that "Domina" title before, but she liked it. "You wish to serve me, as my slave?"

"Yes, Domina. I desire it more than anything."

"You desire it? But your desires don't matter, remember? Only my desires matter."

"Of course, Domina. I meant to say that if it pleases you, you may claim me as one of your slaves."

"One of my slaves? So Alissa told you that I have others?"

"Yes, Domina."

"And that doesn't bother you: that you would be but one of many slaves who serve me."

"It doesn't bother me at all, Domina. In fact, it stands to reason. A powerful woman like yourself should be surrounded by slaves -- hundreds of them, thousands! All of them women! All of them serving you!" Karie was starting to swoon. Mrs. Willcott could see she was extremely turned on.

"So how would you serve as my slave? If I claim you, what can I expect you to do for me?

"Anything you wish, my Domina. I am yours to command."

"Tell me."

"I could serve you at work, Domina. In your office, without pay. As a secretary or an assistant."

"But I only hire the very best employees. And frankly, there's no place at my charity for a worthless historian like yourself."

"As you wish, Domina. Perhaps I could serve you here in your home, as a maid or a cook."

"But I already have plenty of help around the house -- and yes, most of them are my slaves as well."

"Then perhaps . . ."

"Perhaps what?"

"Perhaps . . ." Karie said, staring lustfully at her mistress's skirt and the pussy she knew was beneath it, "I could serve as your pussy slave."

"Oh? Now that sounds interesting. What would you offer me in that capacity?"

"I offer you my tongue, Domina. It would be at your disposal at all hours of the day." She licked her lips hungrily, looking up into the older woman's eyes. "It would worship your pussy, tend to all of its desires. Your beautiful, delicious pussy would be the center of this slave's existence. The rest of this slave's body could be naked, perhaps chained to your bed awaiting your use. Your pleasure would be this slave's only reason for being. This slave would even deny itself pleasure, if you commanded it. This slave's own orgasms, like the rest of its body, would belong only to you, Domina." Karie seemed to be given over completely to lust as she imagined what she described.

"I think I like the sound of that. Take off your clothes. I don't think you'll need them anymore."

"Yes, Domina," Karie said. Without standing up, she very quickly removed her blouse, skirt, and heels. Mrs. Willcott saw that the young woman hadn't been wearing a bra or panties. That little slut! she thought.

When she was naked, Karie resumed her submissive position on her knees. "This pussy slave belongs to you now, Domina, and it begs to serve."

"And serve it will," Mrs. Willcott said. She walked back around her desk and picked up Karie's essay. She threw it in the trash. "I really don't give a shit about that." She opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a long leather leash. She tied it securely around her new slave's neck and commanded, "Heel, my slave. We're going to my bedroom where I'm going to ride your face all afternoon."

"Yes, Domina." Led by the leash, Karie crawled out of the room on her hands and knees. Her pussy was wet and her tongue was salivating. She couldn't wait to begin servicing her new mistress.