Belle's Story B. 01

Belle's Story, Bk1 Ch8: Premonition.

(My online life-partner PixieHoff and I continue to have a lot of fun bouncing story ideas between us. This chapter, and the first chapter of PixieHoff's new story 'Being Emily' are based on such a session. We hope that you, our dear reader, will enjoy it as much as we do.)

I have a bad dream, a really dark one, interrupted by my waking up. However, I can't remember anything from the dream, only the feeling of dread that something terrible is going to happen. Alisa isn't in the bed as normal, so I go to the shower in the hope that she's there. Disappointed that she isn't, I shower and dress on my own and go down to breakfast as usual.

She isn't in the kitchen so I ask if anyone knows where she is. Inika tells me: "Alisa left about half an hour ago, she said that she had a meeting with Michelle at Chelsea Exclusives. Relieved on that score I break my fast and then take coffee with my lovely ladies, which is always a delight. Javi asks if I'm feeling okay and realising that I may be showing my apprehension on my face, I smile and say that I must have got out of bed on the wrong side, being as Alisa wasn't there! My good humour apparently returned, they laugh and relax.

Pixie arrives for her meeting with Alisa and me. Lali asks if we'd like coffee while we wait and I decide that we will take it in the lounge to escape any further questions. We chat while waiting for Alisa but, Pixie sensing my mood asks if I'm worried about something: "My Sansa, I am so happy to be your flower girl, but I sense a sadness".

I reply with a wan smile: "A bad dream, that's all, please don't be concerned".

Just as we are finishing our coffees, Alisa joins us with her own freshly brewed coffee. Greetings completed, Alisa takes control of the meeting: "Pixie, thank you for joining us today, I have read the questionnaire that you completed about the role that you wish to play with Belle. I have an important question to ask you: "I have seen the way you gaze at my future wife, though you have been properly respectful, as befits you, my sixth sense says this is, for you now, more than role playing. Have you fallen in love with my Belle?"

I blink, astonished!

The question clearly takes Pixie by surprise, she looks as if she is turning her answer over in her mind before answering; a lie will likely be detected by Alisa and that would be the end of it all. She takes a deep breath and answers: "I beg your pardon ladies, for my presumption; but yes, I admit it, I have fallen for Belle."

I blink again, even more astonished!

"I see," says Alisa, letting the tension of the moment have its full effect before continuing: "Well, Pixie, I have to say that this must be discussed first by myself and my life-partner. I must add that if, and I say it advisedly, she wishes, after the week-end, to allow you to be with her, there will be conditions".

I can't believe what I'm hearing. Not only is Alisa willing to whore me out for a week-end but it is beginning to look as though she is willing to consider something beyond that. I begin to wonder if this is my premonition coming to life. I continue to listen, but with much more care.

Alisa turns to me and asks: "My darling Belle. You look worried, are you unhappy with continuing?"

I feel as if I'm in the eye of a tornado, while apparently calm in the eye, a step in either direction could be catastrophic. I'm eighteen years old and am overwhelmed, so I wimp out by simply saying: "I'm okay".

Alisa nods to me, then turns to look directly at Pixie: "As to their reasonableness, my darling Belle will be the judge, but I must tell you Pixie; for me, these are the non-negotiable conditions on which I should be prepared to consider your desires for Belle".

Pixie nods: "Please let me hear them Miss Alisa."

It is Alisa's turn to take a deep breath: "The first is that should I allow you to be with my future wife sexually, you, Pixie, will keep yourself away from all others, with an exception that I shall soon tell you. Do you agree?"

Pixie replies: "I agree."

Alisa smiles: "In order to ensure that you keep your word you will, except on occasions of hygienic need, wear a chastity belt that I shall provide. Belle and myself will be your key holders. Is that acceptable?"

Pixie blushes: "It is Miss."

Alisa nods: "Good girl. Now I mentioned an exception and here it is. The Agency is our life, and you, if you are becoming even a small part of it, must become a lesbian escort. Is that acceptable? Of course when on duty, Belle or I will remove your belt."

Pixie gasps visibly at the unexpected question: "It is acceptable Miss, but my job makes its demands."

Alisa breaks a smile: "Good girl. My third condition will obviate that. You are to give your post up as soon as you can".

Pixie looks startled at the changes she is facing: "I shall do so with haste, Miss Alisa."

I feel real sympathy for Pixie as she seems to become more submissive at every question. Although totally understanding the horrible situation with which Alisa is having cope, I'm seeing a different side to her.

She continues: "I see, well see that you do. Now to my fourth condition. You will need to live with us in the house, so you will arrange to let out your town house."

Pixie nods: "I shall be in touch with an agent tomorrow, first thing Miss."

Alisa smiles: "Good girl. My fifth is that as you are to live in our house, your new post should be as Belle's personal servant attending to all her needs. For that, you will be attired normally in a sari, like the other servants. Is that acceptable?"

Pixie nods again: "It is acceptable, Miss".

Alisa smiles: "Good girl. Well should you adhere to these conditions, and should my darling fiancée decide to accept you after the date, you may have my permission. Oh, and as you have been so honest, there is a reward".

I wonder whatever is coming next.

Alisa smiles, as if in triumph: "Yes, dear Belle, my young niece, Indira, was going to be our flower girl at the wedding, but it turns out that she cannot make it. We have the dress, and as she was fourteen, it should fit you well, she has a similarly undeveloped figure. Pixie, you may be our flower girl."

Pixie smiles too: "Thank you, Miss".

I'm left bemused at how Pixie can accept all those conditions with aplomb ... even pleasure!

My date for the weekend with Pixie is a great success. We enjoyed each other and it has to be said that we did so in some unexpected ways too, it was more of a honeymoon than a date. Early on in the date Pixie asks about my ancestry. Not really having a clue, but with my curiosity raised, I agree to provide a DNA sample which Pixie arranges for a colleague to take away for analysis. At the end of the date, the results of the DNA analysis arrive and curiously say that I am 100% Indian.

Thinking that something must have gone wrong somewhere, even though I have a permanent tan, it isn't very dark, Pixie asks a different colleague at her university for a second opinion. I provide another DNA sample and it is analysed. The results confirm the first test as accurate.

I will just record that we were both in tears as we took our final embrace, and our date came to an end.

Over the next couple of days Javi collects the new BMW iX3 Premium Edition while Inika drives Pixie back and forth to help move her things into one of the vacant servant quarters. On the very same day that Pixie moves in, six new servants arrive to be trained by Lali & Piti to run the household.

On her first drop-off, Pixie helps me to go through my parents' papers and we find a folder marked "Belle's documents". The first item is my adoption certificate. I'm amazed to find that my birth name was Resha Sansara Siddiqi. The next is an Indian birth certificate for a girl named Resha Sansara Siddiqi, with the same date of birth, in Calcutta, now known as Kolkata. My father is recorded as 'Unknown' and my birth mother is recorded as Sansara Resha Siddiqi, a prostitute, in Calcutta. I really am an Indian citizen!

There is also a letter from my mother apologising for having to give me up. She was the former Princess Sansara Resha Siddiqi, daughter of Mir Osman Ali Khan Siddiqi, the last Nizam (ruler) of the Princely State of Hyderabad (in the northern part of South India). Becoming pregnant after being raped by a palace guard, who was quickly tried and executed, His Exalted Highness (H.E.H.) the Nizam, disowned, disinherited and exiled her to Calcutta where I was born. Starving and fearful for my future she gave me up for adoption and was enticed into prostitution.

The letter goes on to say that an English couple came forward to adopt me formally. They looked affluent and more importantly a kindly well-intentioned couple. So, with love for daughter and a broken heart at losing her, she made her last farewell. It is signed with love from Ummi Sansara.

Attached to the certificate is a substantial lock of my mother's hair, with the roots, in an envelope. I ask Pixie if it is possible for DNA to be extracted from the hair and she says she will ask her colleague. I beg that, if possible, some of the hair be retained for me and of course, being my lovely Pixie, she says she will try.

There is even a Hyderabad Times front page headline 'Princess disowned & exiled' with a prominent photo of my mother, I can see myself clearly in her facial features. So far, the photo is all I have of my mother so I plan to keep it safe with the documents. Finally, there is my certificate of British Citizenship which bears both my birth names Resha Sansara Siddiqi and my adopted names Isabelle Jane Keeler. It is another important document to be kept safely.

The next day, having completed moving her things, Pixie is shown into the lounge where I am waiting for her. I look up and with a smile remembering, with a sweet tingle in my belly, the weekend we had spent together: "Welcome to my home Pixie, please come stand before me as I have an important question to ask you".

She comes close smiling warmly, awaiting my question: "Are you determined to go ahead under the conditions that you agreed with Miss Alisa? Six other servants, i.e., 3 Indian lesbian couples, are starting with you today and you will of course be living, with them, in one of the servants quarters".

She answers my question succinctly: "Yes Miss Sansa. I have arranged with agents to let my house and have resigned my post. I am at your disposal and agree to all the wise conditions set for me".

Pixie blushes: "Yes Miss Sansa, a wise course of action if I might say so".

I rebuke her then smiling advise: "As a servant, your opinion is not required, if it is then you will be told what it is! Of course, as my personal servant, in India your job title would be 'bearer', you answer to me, no one else is to give you orders. There are six Indian ladies that I have welcomed into my family, they live in family suites not in the servants' quarters. I desire that they be shown proper respect, i.e. address them as Miss Lali for example or Lali Memsahib (pronounced 'mem - sarb').

Pixie smiles: "Thank you Belle Memsahib, I appreciate that privilege and your advice and will strive to be worthy of it".

I smile warmly with a twinkle in my eye: "You can be sure that you will".

Pixie smiles happily: "You know my desires, Belle Memsahib, your Emily is here for you and I accept that you and Alisa Memsahib are life-partners.

I reply: "Now we await Alisa Memsahib so that she may supervise the fitting of your chastity belt and give me a key".

As we wait, Pixie hands me the envelope containing my mother's hair and it doesn't look as if any has been taken. Worried, I ask her about it, and she reassures me that only a few strands were required. With a big smile she hands me an envelope, which, with trembling hands from the excitement, I open and take out an official looking letter. The first, and most important, thing I see in helpful bold type is '100% certainty'. Even more excited, I read the full text and discover that a comparison of Sansara Resha Siddiqi's DNA and my own DNA, taken previously, provide a '100% certainty' of a mother:daughter match. I'm unable to stop myself crying in happiness.

Wiping away the tears from my eyes, Pixie wraps me in her arms, and I sob my heart out for my loving mother and the terrible heart-rending decision she made for my benefit. On recovering myself, I hug Pixie and show her the documents. I say they, together with my DNA results, that she facilitated for me, seem to be convincing evidence. I tell her that I plan to embrace my heritage and change my name by deed-poll, as soon as possible, to my real name of Resha Sansara Siddiqi: "It seems that I really am your Sansa!"

Alisa walks into the lounge with a large package and a smile to match. Fortunately, she is engrossed in her mission and doesn't notice my puffy eyes giving me more time in which to compose myself. Pixie blushes nervously but stands to attention, clearly doing her best to fit into the household on Alisa's terms.

Alisa says: "Welcome to our employment Pixie, you are one of 7 servants starting with us today. You, however, will be the only one permitted to wear a chastity belt and you know the reason for that".

Alisa was clearly making a statement rather than ask a question. Pixie simply answers respectfully: "Yes, Alisa Memsahib".

Alisa says sternly: "Be sure you do not abuse the privilege girl".

Pixie, looking a little stunned by the curt reminder of her new status, replies: "Yes, Alisa Memsahib".

Alisa asks: "Belle darling, please take out the belt and fit it to your bearer. Girl you can get completely undressed while Belle prepares your belt".

Pixie replies simply, as required: "Yes, Alisa Memsahib".

Pixie carefully takes off her jacket, folds it and places it on the chair. Unzipping her skirt next, she stands in her blouse, white knickers, stockings and suspenders, placing her shoes to one side of her.

I hold the belt up in awe, the secure metal parts shining in the light and wait for Pixie to get fully undressed.

Pixie carefully undoes her blouse, exposing her titlets, as she calls them, her nipples prominent. She pulls her knickers down, looks at the belt, then at Alisa Memsahib and at me. She unclips her stockings, rolls them down and off, and then, carefully discards her suspender belt to stand naked before her superiors.

Alisa kisses me and asks me to 'mark' my bearer with the belt. Pixie blushes and opens her legs. I hold the belt for Pixie to step into, she does what she has to do and carefully steps into the belt, one foot at a time.

I look up to Pixie, with a smile unseen by Alisa, and raise the belt into position, feeling sad as her delicious treasure disappears behind the metal covering: "Is that comfortable?"

Pixie blushes again and squeaks: "Yes, Belle Memsahib".

Holding the belt in position, I'm all too aware of Pixie's heightened state of arousal, all too wonderful for me during our glorious weekend together. Reluctantly, knowing it's the only way, I turn the key thus locking the belt. I remove it the key and give it to Alisa, returning to check that the second key works correctly, so that in an emergency I can release her.

Alisa remarks on the girl's wetness: "Keep a cloth handy just in case girl, any spillages will have to be cleaned up ... with your mouth!

Pixie blushes furiously and replies as required: "Yes, Alisa Memsahib".

Alisa says to me: "I will send Piti in to teach the girl how to dress correctly in a sari. At least she is beginning to show a little respect!"

Pixie still stands naked, wearing only her chastity belt: "Thank you, Alisa Memsahib".

To my relief, Alisa leaves the room allowing me to slip my key for Pixie's chastity belt onto a satin ribbon that I tie round my neck and wear like a necklace, with the key hidden in my cleavage. In just the quiet of a single moment, I feel my mood darken and my apprehension growing again.

Piti enters the room smiling and carrying a sari outfit in her arms, but is tactful and doesn't mention Pixie's nakedness or the chastity belt. I ask her to dress Pixie, telling Pixie how to do each step for herself. I sit on a couch to watch as if in protection of my poor Emily.

Piti holds open a pair of knickers: "First, some nice big thick knickers to disguise the shape of the belt. One foot at a time, Pixie steps into them pulls them up covering the chastity belt effectively. I smile to her, relieved that her dressing has commenced.

Piti looks over to me without saying anything, obviously enquiring about a bra. I opt to simply shake my head and Piti understands. I couldn't bear to add to Pixie's embarrassment by telling her out loud that there is no need for a bra. I know very well that she never wears a bra, only a chemise to cover any 'pokies' that might arise!

Next Piti holds open the choli blouse for Pixie to put her arms into the sleeves, which she does without being prompted, probably keen to have her 'titlets' as she calls them screened from view. Piti moves behind Pixie and buttons her up. She smiles as if liking her new blouse.

Piti holds open a thick petticoat for Pixie to step into and she does so gingerly. Piti pulls the petticoat up and tightens the strings around her waist so the weight of the sari will not pull it down. Pixie seems to look more comfortable now that she is reasonably covered, I certainly feel relieved for her. Piti ties a double bow to lock the strings while still taut then tucks the ends of the strings inside the petticoat.

Piti opens the sari and checks the length, being the size for an early teenager, it hangs to cover her ankles. Pixie blushes again, the poor love is going through so much, for me!

Piti asks her to pay special attention to the next part and she responds: "Yes, Piti Memsahib".

Piti takes a corner of the cloth: "The patterned edge is to your feet, the top goes to the top of the petticoat so that the trailing end is to your right ... this is important because the end part, the Pallu, goes over your left shoulder to hang down your back".

Pixie says: "Thank you, Piti Memsahib".

Piti smiles: "Make 5 overlapping pleats about 6 inches wide, she secures the folds together with a large safety pin then tucks the pinned ends in under the petticoat".

Pixie smiles: "Thank you Piti Memsahib, that looks so lovely".

Piti continues: "Wind the trailing part completely around yourself and on the second pass start,moving it up your body. Eventually the trailing end is used up, the last turn passing under your arm, across your chest and over your left shoulder. The free end is called the Pallu and is often used as a head covering instead of a decorative drape".

Pixie says: "Thank you, Piti Memsahib".

Finally, Piti hands Pixie a pair of flat shoes with material uppers. Pixie puts her delicate, small feet into them. I smile: "You look adorable".

Pixie smiles: "Thank you, Sansa Memsahib, and you, Piti Memsahib." She brings her hands together in a silent Namaste and bows respectfully.

At lunch, Pixie attentively sees to my every need, she personally waits on me to the admiration of my six Indian ladies and even Alisa breaks a smile on her behalf. I want to tell my ladies the good news that I share their Indian heritage but can't bring myself to do it just yet. I still have that awful foreboding dread that something terrible is going to happen.

Our phones start pinging as Michelle texts us details of our dates. I look at mine to find that a I have a 7:30 p.m. date with a French lady named Hélène Dubois at the 5-star hotel The Conrad London St. James. We are to meet in the Reception lounge.

Now that we have the extra car, organisation becomes simpler: Sooni will drive me, accompanied by Pixie in my Phantom 8, Riya will drive Alisa and Inika in her Phantom 7, a servant will drive Lali in the original BMW and Javi will drive Piti in the new BMW. Fortunately, all six of the new servants has a UK driving licence so Inika & Javi will supervise their safe familiarisation with the two BMW cars.