Ceo Slut: a New Slave

Author's Note:

This story is part of a longer series. The story is written with enough background that anyone new to the series can jump in here, although a brief recap of the previous installments is included below.

*****

Recap

Part 1 - A Cougar and a Panther

Kim Barnes is a 42-year-old CEO of a medical device company near Cleveland who had a weekend fling with Nick, a young 22-year-old near Pittsburgh. Unbeknownst to her, Nick shows up to her work place the following week as the newest company hire. Soon, he holds nude pictures and videos over her as blackmail, forcing her to perform a series of sexually daring acts in the workplace.

Part 2 - A Day of Good Vibrations

Kim wears a remote vibrator to work, and Nick makes her orgasm innumerable times during the day, embarrassing her in front of various cohorts.

Part 3 - A Friday Submission

Kim has sex with Nick at work. That evening, Nick comes to her house and establishes a Master/ slave relationship with her.

Part 4 - A Fun Filled Weekend

Nick takes Kim shopping at an adult store for new clothing. Then they pay a visit to some of Nick's old college friends, who, as it turns out, all happen to have been previous conquests for Kim.

Part 5 - A Good Start to the Week

Nick fucks Kim in her CEO office. Afterward, Nick finds evidence that his manager, Marcia, is having an affair Ted, a company VP.

Part 6: A New Bitch

Kim confronts Ted about his affair with Marcia and blackmails him into becomes submissive to her.

Part 7: A New Blackmail

Marcia opens up to Nick, one of her workers, about her personal life while he is secretly blackmailing her, forcing her to perform a series of sexual dares.

*****

Part 8: A New Slave

Marcia made up some excuse to her husband about a charity gala that her workplace, Geneco, was sponsoring on Friday night to explain why she would be out so late. Her blackmailer had been coy about her assignment for the night, only telling her not to wear a bra or panties and that she would receive directions when she left the house. She wore a slinky dress she thought fit with her excuse of a work gala. It also served the dual purpose of making her feel sexy ahead of whatever surely sexual themed activity her blackmailer had in store for her.

"Whoa, you're wearing that to a work function?" her husband asked as she prepared to leave. "Boy, somebody is desperate for some attention. Honey, don't take this the wrong way, but are you sure you want to go out looking like that? Do you think you should dress your age?"

Marcia secretly seethed inside. No acknowledgement that she looked nice. Would it kill her husband to give a compliment, she wondered? Sure, she was 36 years old, but she had maintained her figure, even after having a few kids. Besides, it's not like her dress was even remotely inappropriate. Sure, it showed a little more skin than she normally showed, but it was far tamer than what college aged girls wore for a night out on the town these days.

She felt disgust as she glared at her husband lazily lying on the couch in sweatpants while he snacked on a bag of chips and watched tv. Maybe he meant well, but his response came off like an insult. Marcia decided to just take a deep breath and ignore his feedback. Besides, she still had no clue what lay in store for her that night.

"Don't wait up for me, honey. I might be back a little late," she casually replied, ignoring his advice on attire.

She threw on a long coat and then stepped out into the cool night.

As she got into her car, she texted her blackmailer. He immediately replied with an address.

Nick: You're going to a ball tonight. Go to this address and tell the owner you are Marcia the Slut. He has your outfit waiting for you up front. Change into it in the store. After you pay for the items, you can cover up when you leave so you won't be in violation of public decency. Text when you are done, and I'll send the next instructions. Hurry. Don't be late to the ball.

Marcia shuddered, wondering what kind of twisted outfit her blackmailer would choose for her. How could she wear something publicly indecent to a ball, she wondered? She looked up the address, and it was in a run-down section of town, which was disconcerting, but she pressed forward.

Soon, she was at the address to pick up her evening attire. It was early evening and a half-lit neon sign flashed. It was an adult sex novelty store. Marcia stood dismayed. This wasn't the best neighborhood, but she steeled her nerves and decided to go through with it.

A bell sounded as she entered the store. An old white man leered at her, and she felt him undress her with his eyes. The store was empty, but some techno music blared out of an old boombox.

"New stripper for the club down the street?" the old man asked.

Marcia was shocked by his lewd assessment of her. "No, I'm - uh, Marcia. Marcia the Slut. I think you have an order for me," she answered, clearly flustered by the old man's sneer, although having to announce herself under that name certainly didn't change his impression of her.

The old man eyed her for a second, as if sizing her up. "I can order you around if that's your kink."

"No - I didn't mean - I think someone placed an order for some items for pick up."

"Ah yes," he smiled mischievously. "Someone called in an order earlier. I've got it right here," he said as he reached under the counter and pulled out a bag with a label marked "Marcia the Slut."

"Do you get a lot of strippers shopping here?" Marcia asked, trying to fill the awkward silence.

"That, and the street walkers," he replied without batting an eye.

"Well, I'm neither one of those," Marcia said, letting him know she wasn't a common sex worker, although it left her questioning why she was even there in the first place. The name marked on the bag certainly didn't help, either.

"I ain't judging," he said as he pulled the bag onto the counter. "Here, says it's for Marcia the Slut, is that you?" he asked.

She grabbed the bag in frustration as he laughed. He watched her eyes take in the items as she pulled them out of the bag. A leather strap, some impossibly high platform heels, white nylons, and a sexy schoolgirl skirt and top.

"Are you used to walking in stripper heels?" the store owner asked.

Marcia swallowed hard. She was used to wearing heels, but nothing like what she lay before her on the counter. "I'll be fine," she smiled, trying to sound confident, but the quiver in her voice belied her self-doubt.

Her face turned ghostly white as she held up the skirt and top. She had immediately recognized it as a sexy schoolgirl outfit, but she didn't initially realize how skimpy it was. The plaid skirt looked impossibly short and would hardly give any cover if she wasn't wearing panties. The top was white but almost sheer and looked like it would barely cover her tits, anyway.

Her heart was aflutter. The reality of wearing the outfit filled her with fear and excitement, and her excitement was augmented by the fact that it appealed to one of her role play fantasies, namely that of the naughty schoolgirl having an affair with her teacher. It seemed to be a lucky coincidence that her blackmailer maybe had the same kink.

The old man smiled. "It's one of my favorite outfits myself. Innocent and slutty all at once."

He saw the confused look as she fingered the leather strap also in the pile. "It's a collar. You wear it around your neck."

Marcia sighed to herself. "Do you have a changing room?" He gestured toward the back.

The curtain on the changing stall didn't close all the way, the room had a dank smell, and she didn't want to think about the sticky stains on the walls. Marcia changed as quickly as she could into her new outfit. The collar was the last thing she put on. She felt a chill as she strapped it in place, although she wasn't quite sure why. She stared at her image in the cracked full-length mirror, unable to get over how obscene she looked. She looked in dismay how her tits clearly showed through the thin fabric of her top. The top was made to look like a blouse, but it was so tight, she could barely put it on. The bottom of the top barely reached below her tits, and there were no buttons. Instead, there was extra fabric she could use as a tie off at the bottom, leaving her with a plunging neckline. She couldn't imagine actually wearing the outfit in a public space. She had no idea what her blackmailer had planned, but she had serious reservations if he was finally pushing her beyond her breaking point.

She cursed herself for leaving her coat up front with the old man, wishing she could wear it over the schoolgirl outfit. She decided to put her old dress on over the new one for now to maintain some level of modesty. She had no desire to display her tits for the old leering man, although the top of her white stockings clearly showed under the hem of her dress. She tied on the new heels and then stepped out of the booth.

As Marcia approached the old man, she caught sight of a screen behind him with the images from different security cameras on display, including one for the changing room she just stepped out of. He flashed a condescending smile as she realized he was watching her the whole time.

Marcia quickly paid the bill in cash and was finally ready to go. She was suddenly doubtful if she really wanted to go through with the rest of the night, but she figured she had already paid for the items, so she may as well at least learn her actual destination. Even though she was filled with trepidation, being dressed in the schoolgirl outfit emboldened her since it appealed to one of her kink fantasies. Maybe the rest of the night would pick up, she hoped. She picked up her phone to text her blackmailer.

Marcia: I'm wearing your outfit and shoes.

Nick: Correction. They are your outfit and shoes. You paid for them after all. But you are mine, so in that sense, they are kind of mine.

Marcia: Jerk.

Nick: Yet you still play the game.

Marcia: You don't give me a choice.

Nick: Keep pretending you don't enjoy it, you slut.

He texted her a physical address only a few miles away. She looked it up, and it was a nondescript building in an older section of town.

Marcia: I can't show up dressed in this outfit. It's public indecency.

Nick: I think you'll fit right in. Just make sure wearing nothing but the outfit you just bought when you get to the ball.

Marcia couldn't help but wonder what the night had in store as she started down the street, following the GPS directions to her destination.

*****

"Is my Master pleased with his slave's appearance?"

Nick looked at Kim Barnes dressed in a black form-fitting latex bodysuit as she fingered the collar he had recently given her. The 42-year-old CEO of Geneco Corporation was the private sex slave for one of the youngest employees at the company. She wore a mask that covered her entire face except for small cutouts for her eyes and mouth.

Nick himself was dressed in tight black leather pants and boots with no shirt. He wore a similar mask.

Kim was still riding the high from when she had dominated her VP of Operations, Ted Gaines earlier in the week, although tonight served as a stark reminder that she was still a slave to her Master.

Nick had been coy about tonight's planned activities, which left Kim to speculate on what might be in store. Kim knew he was taking her to a local BDSM club, but there seemed to be something he wasn't telling her yet about the whole thing. Before changing into her outfit for the night, Nick had fucked her with a passion and fury she had not experienced in a while. Kim felt there was something more than just her fueling his excitement.

She was thankful he gave her a mask to wear to hide her true identity, although she hated how it made her feel almost anonymous. Even though she desperately wanted to maintain the secrecy of her relationship with Nick, she was still unused to not being the most important person in any room. Nevertheless, she had entered into a willingly submissive role in their relationship, and she no longer questioned his motives or orders.

"I think you'll be in for a pleasant surprise tonight, my pet," Nick promised her. "I know I certainly will."

*****

Marcia walked into the building and entered a small room with a large bouncer.

"Excuse me," Marcia said, announcing herself, still unsure what she was getting herself into exactly. "I should have a will-call ticket for tonight's event."

The bouncer smirked. "We're not that formal an operation. But I have a list of people already registered and paid for," he said. "Name?"

"Marcia Caden," she said meekly, not wanting to loudly proclaim her real name, lest anyone overhear.

"Sorry, I don't have a Marcia Caden on the list," the bouncer tersely replied.

Marcia sighed as she realized how her blackmailer likely registered her.

"What about Marcia the Slut?"

The bouncer beamed. "You enjoy yourself in there, Marcia the Slut," he proclaimed as he stood aside to let her pass.

She entered through a doorway and some curtains into a large, darkened room. Black lights gave a soft glow, but her eyes needed a few moments to adjust to the dim lighting.

As her view came into focus, the sight was titillating but intimidating. She was standing in a large room with dozens of people dressed in kinky garb. There were people, men and women, in all states of undress. Some of the men and women were clearly in subservient roles and being led around by Doms. Others were in handcuffs or other restraints. She watched a few people disappear through doorways into additional mysterious rooms, and she wondered what happened back there.

"Are you a Mary?" a woman's voice asked from behind. Marcia turned and saw a diminutive Hispanic looking woman in a dominatrix dress approaching. She looked younger, maybe mid-20's and curvaceous. Marcia noticed she wore extremely high heels and concluded she was likely only about 5 feet tall without them.

"I'm sorry. I'm not Mary. Close, I'm Marcia. Do I know you?" She wondered if she should have adopted an alias, but oh well, but it seemed as if the woman knew her. She wondered if she was somehow affiliated with her blackmailer.

"I'm Mistress Penelope. We've never met, but you looked like a deer in the headlights. First time?"

"Is it that obvious?" Marcia asked.

"It's okay. We were all like you at one point and had to start somewhere. Welcome to the dungeon. This event is called Hell's Ball."

"Oh, I see," Marcia said, her mind still processing the whole scene.

"You are actually dressed fairly conservatively - "

"Oh, actually, I forgot to change," Marcia said excitedly, desperate to fit in and impress Mistress Penelope. She slid off her dress and let it fall to the floor, leaving her standing in her barely-there schoolgirl outfit.

"Oh my. You came prepared. Someone wants to be naughty tonight," Mistress Penelope growled. "You'll fit right in. Are you meeting anyone?"

"No, not really, I guess," she stammered, unsure how to respond.

Marcia fought the impulse to cover her tits on display. She had disrobed, eager to fit in, but the reality of being naked in public had her rethinking her decision. She scanned the room full of people in various states of undress, however, and relaxed as her own nudity hardly even raised an eyebrow.

"How did you know my name?" Marcia asked, still amazed the woman almost guessed her name.

Mistress Penelope laughed. "I called you a Mary. As in a virgin since you seemed so lost, I figured it had to be your first time."

"Oh," said Marcia, unable to hide her disappointment, realizing the woman was likely not connected to her blackmailer.

"Look, if you have any questions, feel free to ask me. We don't put up with the creeps. Everything is consensual. There are Dungeon Monitors, or DM's, roaming the building, making sure that everything is consensual. You'll see women and men subjected to pain and restraints, but there's a common safety word. Ping Pong. Remember it. Any Dom who doesn't respect a sub when they give the safety word is banned."

"That's good to know. Thank you. Mistress Penelope. So, you're a Mistress?" Marcia asked.

"I am. All of my subs are men, though. Are you a sub? You're wearing a collar. Usually that means you are owned. If you're not, there are many interesting things I could do with you. To you."

"Well, actually - " Marcia started.

"She is owned," an accented voice said as a man approached dressed in leather pants leading a woman on a leash. Nick intentionally deepened his voice and spoke with a British accent, hoping it was enough to disguise his identity from Marcia.

"Do you know this man?" Mistress Penelope asked Marcia.

"She knows the slutty things she did at work all week," Nick commented. "She knows she just came from an Adult Store where she just purchased that slutty outfit before coming here."

Marcia nodded her head in acknowledgement as she realized she had finally come face to face with her blackmailer.

"I apologize. Please, I have no intention to come between a Master and his slave," Mistress Penelope smiled as she backed away.

Nick attached a leash to Marcia's collar and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"You have no idea how much I have been looking forward to this. There is so much to do," Nick told her.

*****

Kim followed Master Nick, terrified to utter a single word, lest Marcia possibly recognize her voice. Her mask suddenly felt so thin, as if the secret she had been guarding so fiercely these past few weeks was on the verge of reveal. She calmed down as she realized that Marcia had no clue who she was under the mask, although she remained closely guarded.

In addition to her fear, Kim felt something else - jealousy. Up till now, she had been Nick's sole slave, and she had enjoyed his undivided attention. As perverse and degrading as his treatment had been at times, she found the idea that he belonged to her as warmly satisfying. She knew that Nick had been blackmailing Marcia, but the changes that portended hadn't occurred to her. In that moment, Kim finally realized that while she belonged to Nick, Nick did not belong to her.

Nick had alluded that there were surprises in store for tonight but was evasive in providing any details. Kim didn't really understand what this meant for her relationship with Nick, but now she realized how different things may become. She was thankful that Nick took precautions to hide her identity, although he clearly did not do the same for Marcia. That made her wonder how long would it be until Marcia learned Kim's true identity? She shuddered to think her secret might be revealed to someone who knew her as a corporate CEO, and her stomach twisted as she realized how tenuous her whole situation was fast becoming.

*****

Nick led both women to a darkened room with ring eyelets on the wall. Marcia was frightened but also incredibly aroused by the entire scene. By the mystery of the unknown. By being paraded while barely dressed through the rooms. By the scenes of nudity and public debauchery surrounding her.

She studied the way her blackmailer moved. He wasn't as tall and stout as she imagined, although he was lean and fit. He looked younger, judging by his body and taut skin. He had no noticeable tattoos or piercings, although she took note of a small birthmark on the left side of his chest. She couldn't help but notice the bulge in the front of his tight leather pants and was secretly pleased that he appeared to be well endowed.

She could discern even less about the other slave he had on a leash. She noticed she wore a nicer collar around her neck. In fact, if the leash was unattached, it looked innocuous enough to wear in public. Her body looked older, although it was hard to tell in the darkened room and with her hair and face completely covered. She hadn't even said a word, so she had no clue what she even sounded like which seemed curious. She wondered if the other slave actually knew the blackmailer's identity.