I meet Cedric as part of my service to the community.
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Author's note:
The setting for this story could prove disturbing or challenging to many readers. I make no apology for that; how you respond is entirely your choice. However, I hasten to add that the story is not based on any sect, cult or other group, nor is any offence directed at any group in particular or towards groups of this nature in general. The story is entirely fictitious and bears no relationship to any group or organization to my knowledge,
I have based the story on the song "Master Jack" whose lyrics were written by David Marks, the original song being released in South Africa in 1967 by Four Jacks and a Jill. I have attempted to interpret the message from this song since then and note that there are a variety of interpretations described in various pages accessible through Google. The interpretation I have placed upon the lyrics is a fictitious account and is not derived from any ideas recorded online of which I am aware.
As usual, I do not condone, approve of or suggest that any activity depicted in this story is attempted in real life. It is, as I say, fiction and nobody in the story is based on or is meant to represent any person in real life. Any such likeness is purely coincidental.
Other than that, enjoy.
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"We are a group of people who are developing a lifestyle of freedom from the oppressive tyranny of government and religious agencies," I told the young couple who had stopped to ask what we were selling. "We're really selling nothing except the freedom to be yourselves and to live how you choose in a supportive community."
By now the words, programmed into me over a period of several days, seemed trite and impossibly idealistic, even to me, who had at first believed them and became an ardent advocate for the dream lifestyle. The young man shook his head.
"No thanks," he replied, "Have a good day."
"So, you wouldn't even like to try it for a weekend visit?" I asked, desperate to add to my weekly contact quota. "There's no charge and the worst that can happen is you have an enjoyable and relaxing weekend," I continued hopefully.
They looked at one another and I could see that he was slightly interested while she was adamant in her refusal.
"No, thank you very much," she said coldly, definite in her refusal this time.
"Oh well, if you change your mind you can always contact us," I replied, pressing a pamphlet into her hands. She seemed to take it reluctantly, considering that a refusal wasn't worth the effort, then forced a smile and hurriedly took his arm and led him away.
I stepped back alongside my co-worker, Stefan, who smiled encouragingly towards me.
"People are so very afraid of the unknown," he said reassuringly, "Don't worry, even if you're not recruiting many potential members, you're still offering an invitation and showing we exist."
I nodded wordlessly, aware that people did know we existed; they could hardly not know seeing us dressed in robes colored with broad red and yellow stripes. For an instant I thought it would be nice to dress as a female again in public instead of wearing the commune colors and style. I missed wearing normal clothes, thinking of the delicate sexy outfits that had been in my wardrobe at home before I'd been kicked out and rescued by the commune an age ago, it seemed, although it was really only a matter of a few weeks. My mind went back over that time, reliving my first meeting with Master Jack, then losing my virginity to Phil, his brief and not too violent introduction to rough sex and spanking. I wriggled inside the robe, feeling the coarse fabric rub against my naked ass and breasts, sending a pleasurable twinge of painful sensation through my body from the almost healed cane and belt strokes administered by Master Jack, and the constriction of my corset which I wore to please him.
My thoughts dwelt on the first time he had spent a night with me. It was a couple of days after Phil; my pussy had fully recovered from Phil's enthusiastic introduction and I found myself feeling sexually starved. I needed cock, and soon. Master Jack must have been well aware of how I would have felt after my first time and patiently waited while my desire increased before he invited me to his luxurious bedroom for the night. Once there, he wasted no time in getting down to business and within a half hour he had made me cum at least three times while he'd filled my cunt with his cum during my last orgasm. We relaxed after that effort, our horniness temporarily sated, sipping wine and eating a few delicious snacks.
"You pleasure me very well," he told me softly, stroking my hair gently, "I really like it when a woman pleasures me well."
"Thank you, Master Jack," I replied, "I enjoy pleasuring you very much."
"Usually I have a special girl; one who I coach for special events and, of course, with whom I sleep. She remains special until I tire of her or until an even more special girl comes along, which may be in a few days or a few years. Do you think you could keep me happy and pleasured for a few years?"
I remember wondering if I really wanted this; did I really want to be the special girl of a guy who was so obviously a control freak? Did I want to be at his beck and call, to have my actions controlled every step of the way? I realized this would be a major commitment and that I could be discarded like a used condom at any time, but still . . . I guessed it could be exciting as well, and I could set myself the challenge of ensuring that I remained his special girl for as long as possible. One thing I had learned about control freaks, they were usually narcissistic, so if I could feed his ego and effectively make myself indispensable to him, then it could be possible. Whatever, it would an interesting, exciting and, hopefully, enjoyable time. I made my decision.
I leant towards him and stroked his chest, wondering, incongruently, if that was where he kept his ego. "Yes, darling, I'm certain I can keep you happy and pleasured for several years at least."
It appeared that he hadn't been expecting that response because he quickly pulled away and looked at me with a doubtful smile. "Ok, we'll see how long this lasts then, shall we? I'll give it a week."