I was permitted to dry myself, I suddenly realized that I was very tired. I had not slept in quite a while. The night before my sale I had been so anxious that my sleep had been sporadic. I really needed eight hours. But then I realized that even my sleeping habits were now at the mercy of a man who was a total stranger.
Once I was dry, my Master lightly doused me with one of the world's more expensive fragrances, the aroma was heavenly. I was handed a toothbrush and floss and a few moments later my master led me to his bedroom. The water bed was huge and circular. The sheets were satin and the pillows were filled with goose down. I knew that the first time would be the most difficult. I could, possibly, have dismissed the blow jobs as exercises that did not amount to adultery; but once his manhood crossed my threshold...
On my own initiative, I began to undress him. That brought a smile to his face, "A smart woman is a sexy woman." he said enthusiastically. I tried to undress him in the sexiest way I knew how. I was also careful to hang up his suit rather than just letting it wrinkle on a pile on the floor. From what I had seen of my Master so far, I understood that her treated his possessions with respect. I had a sense that he had been born poor and had come to his wealth through hard work. He was not the sort of man to allow clutter or slovenliness to enter his life. He had the finest things but was still at heart a frugal man. He must have had some serious bad luck with women to have resorted to The Company for companionship. Then again perhaps he did see me as little more than this year's model Mercedes. Perhaps he was one of those guys who treasure their cars. I hoped that he would come to treasure me.
It was at this point, that one of the lectures The Company had given me began to replay itself in my head. "What you get out of slavery, depends a great deal upon what you put into it. Our clients are not looking for robots. If all they wanted was an obedient automaton they would purchase a Real Doll or make use of escorts. Our clients want compliance with smiles and laughs. Many of our men look at their slaves as giant onions and take delight in peeling away their layers. That can be a fun filled adventure for the Master and slave or it could be a painful,, humiliating experience that pleases neither slave nor master. Our clients tend to be generous, it is not unheard that they send a slave home with nice expensive gifts and wonderful memories. Conversely, the slave could just go home with a looser pussy and asshole having hated every moment of their time. Which one of those slaves YOU turn out to be is largely in your own hands and attitudes."
Those words gave me comfort as I got him down to his silk boxers. His body was not bad aside from the gut. He had powerful legs and arms, I really liked his broad shoulders and nice pecs. For a middle aged man he was an above average specimen. I realized that he was most likely on the downhill side of fifty. Playfully, I knelt before him and worked his shorts off by gently tugging them down using my teeth. He seemed to like that. It was kind of fun and his manhood was a full mast in no time. I seriously doubted that this guy even need so much as a sniff of Viagra.
I was smart enough to allow him to lead however. He chose to take my ass first. Mostly wordlessly he directed me to his bed, where I pulled down the sheets and got on all fours in the middle of the bed. The fingers that lubricated my asshole were not hurried or awkward. They were deliberate and gentle. A short time later, his penis worked its way into my rectum with the same gentle deliberation. I wonder if he was a surprised as I was at the sounds of pleasure that I was making a short time later. It was not just his technique, which was excellent, but that I was also giving vent to the stresses of the last few days. This intimacy with a total stranger was somehow comforting. I now knew that he would not be a dictatorial ogre, but was a sensitive man who would only be harsh to me if I merited correction. As he came deep inside me I realized that my year ahead would not be a nightmare. I felt like an onion ready be peeled.
*******
I did spend a few nights in the cage but only during the first month. My Master and I soon settled into an easy routine. He was not big on words. If he could communicate with me with gestures, he did. I realized that this was a respite from his occupation. He traded on the commodities and money markets, moving great wealth around as though it were a game of dominoes. All day he barked orders into microphones in his home office. I could always tell how well he had done by how talkative he was at the conclusion of the business day. If he was chatty, the day had been a bad one. I learned on those days to be especially solicitous of him and to tolerate his temper. On days when he made a killing he was like a giant silent mountain lion that occasionally purred delightfully.
I was kept stark naked for the first three months. During the first week he really pissed me off by having a beautician come to the house and give me a radical new haircut. I knew that I was permitted nothing from my previous life but I thought the haircut was horrid. My objections led to my first days in the cage.
During my third month my Master took me to a charity art auction. I was clad in s sexy and clingy black dress, black stockings, and matching lacy thong and brassier. I was not permitted to speak and could not uncouple from his arm but I had a wonderful time spotting celebrities. Among others, I saw a famous tennis pro and an award winning actor and his date. I admit that I did get a thrill when the actor eyed me up and down while his date was in the restroom.
My Master was not terribly kinky. Two or three nights a week he would tie me to a different bed and get his jollies. Despite my vulnerability, he never abused me. He seemed content that I was powerless and at his mercy. He expected some dramatics as he took my pussy and asshole or "tortured" me by tickling me until I cried with either his fingers or an object. He also loved how I reacted when he inserted dildos of various sizes into my every orifice, so I gave him the acting performances he desired. The sessions eventually turned into real fun times for both of us. I did not even mind the times he ordered me to suck off or spend the night with some of his business associates and friends. Some of his friends were real pigs but I knew better than to complain.
The only place where my Master was a literal slave driver was in his gym. He had me dress in very skimpy and very sexy work out attire and then, six days a week he put me through several hours of very strenuous exercise. While HE was permitted to carry around a massive gut I was not permitted to gain an ounce. His anal retentive nature came to the fore in his gym, as he weighed me before and after each workout. I was in great shape before he bought me, but my Master was determined to streamline me even more. At first I resented the gym but then I realized that when I was reunited with George, he would be getting a better body back. Even though I came to enjoy my master's company, my husband was not far from my thoughts. I wondered if he missed me as much as I missed him. Yes living in luxury was often fun, but I had to be constantly "on" I could never cry, appear tired or bored. I could never say "no" unless I thought my health was in danger and I had to thank my Mater for every nicety under the sun, like being permitted to eat or to use the bathroom. I even had to thank my Master after one of his boorish friends pawed me or fucked me. In so many ways it was just another thankless job with abysmal hours and no me time.
His pool was a wonderful respite. My master never permitted a bathing suit in his pool so I was just another nude chick soaking up the sun, only my collar revealing the true nature of my relationship with my Master. I remember one picture my master took. He had four guys line up behind me, had me get them hard and then lie back and smile for the camera. The bizarreness of the situation hit me at that moment and was reflected in my twisted smile.
I was delighted one day when I was told that I could send George a Thanksgiving message through The Company. I knew that my note would be censored but just to be able to communicate with my husband was a blessing. It was the first time I had even been allowed to touch a computer keyboard in months. Even the E-readers my Master gave me could not surf the internet. I was glad that I had not been much of a Face book user or I would have had serious withdrawal issues. I thought of George and how lonely his holiday must be. I hoped that he was having a good time despite my absence, I remembered how I had made him promise that we would conceive a child in Italy. I wanted the air of da Vinci in my child's DNA. I imagined Gorge and I, fucking like rabbits on the banks of the Po and nearly broke out in tears. Before I could wallow in sadness however, my Master summoned me. It was time for my bath. Wishing George well, I made my way to my Master's side and followed his lead. I knew that the worst was behind me. I could see the end of the rainbow and it was beautiful.
