Dear readers, This is the final chapter in this story. I hope you enjoy it.
***
"Merci beaucoup," I thanked the cute server in the small cafe off the Champs Elysee. He placed my latte down beside a fresh croissant and stepped aside with a smile. I sipped the fragrant coffee and sighed as I stretched my weary legs under the table. It was a beautiful September day in Paris and I was enjoying the late afternoon sun warming the sidewalk cafe.
I had spent the morning and a good part of the afternoon at the Musee d'Orsay, It was everything I imagined it to be and much much more. There was a sense of unreality as I stood in front of some of the most celebrated paintings in the world. Since my art classes in high school I dreamed that one day I would see the Renoirs and Monets in real life. Standing in front of them was truly a dream come true.
Xavier, my master and owner, had manfully stayed with me for hours but in the end left for the hotel to catch up on some rest and also work, no doubt.
How strange this picture really was. In his estimation I was his property and I had essentially agreed to my circumstances. At one time, early in my captivity, I was kept locked in a room for most of the day. And now my master had left me to finish the museum tour by myself and had then instructed me to shop for some evening wear before I returned to the hotel. I had my own credit card linked to his account and my budget was to 'keep it within reason', whatever that meant to the criminal bigwig that he was. I did have a time line: be back for 5 pm.
Two men at the table along the cafe's outdoor railing were stealing glances my way. I think they liked what they saw as I arrived in my tight designer jeans, knee high boots and cute top and short leather jacket. I had added the scarf that all Parisian women consider mandatory fall fashion wear. However, what the local women didn't have was the fresh faced appearance that only someone living in the mountains could have. I smiled at one of the men as he looked at me, returning my smile. I was living a dream.
As I watched the lively street scene and ate my croissant while sipping my latte, I reflected back on the past weeks. Most striking of all was the realization that I was now modestly wealthy, thanks to the good fortune of my uncle and his will which left all his money to me, his only living relative. I really didn't fully believe that my inheritance was real until I took the advice of the private investigator and visited the Bank administering the estate. After a thorough check of my ID they closed the estate account and transferred 2.62 million into a new account under my name. Rather, several accounts, some being investment accounts and one cash account that I could draw on at any bank machine. I had done all this, the cover being my need to re-register for the next term allowing my trip to the University town. Xavier did not yet know of my inheritance.
At first I wasn't sure I would tell him. But another event or rather situation had arisen and I developed a plan for a significant portion of the money. He would have to know and agree, with the 'agree' part being the biggest hurdle to overcome. My plan concerned Arie, the recently acquired woman in my master's household. Dropping her off in Denver and seeing her walk away with Philip, hand in hand and a big smile on her face, started my thinking down the path to buying her freedom.
Philip was delightful and Arie had quickly taken to him. Xavier had more or less given her virginity to Philip to take if he wanted and they had spent the night together. I'm sure it would not have happened if Arie hadn't consented. Philip was an old school friend of Xavier's and not in any way part of the mindset that prevailed in Xavier's criminal organization, the mindset that keeping abducted women in sexual slavery was a way of life. I believe they had had consensual sex and seeing her greet him at the Denver airport confirmed her attraction to him. We had talked in the short time before the European trip and she was unsure where her future lay. She wanted to escape Xavier and having his friend in her life would be impossible if she ran. She did clearly like Philip but had no idea how to make it work. Xavier had bought her and that was her immediate future.
But not if I purchased her from Xavier and then either gifting her to Philip or setting her free, whatever she chose. How crazy was all this and here I was in the city of my dreams sipping a latte in a cute French cafe devising a plan to liberate Xavier's other captive woman. I resolved to talk to him as soon as possible.
Xavier's and my relationship was slowly evolving to a place that frankly left me a bit confused. He still punished me, however even that was changing. My latest faut pas, as the French would say, was oddly enough on the overnight flight. He was reading yet another book on economics and without leaving his book he slipped a hand under the blanket covering us and worked his fingers into my jeans and then my sex and began stroking me. Like the good little sex slave I was I opened the belt and zipper of my jeans under the cover of the blanket to give him more access. While trying to keep quiet I closed my eyes and absorbed the feeling of him expertly and knowingly driving me into a barely contained fit of lust, his fingers on my clit and opening. One thing was for sure: Xavier knew my body and my responses. I shuddered to a climax and sunk my teeth into his shoulder to stop myself from howling in pleasure.
He had looked at me disapprovingly and asked me why I was fidgeting so much to which I just rolled my eyes. That earned me the promise of punishment. It was delivered the first night in the hotel. Truth be told he spent more time caressing my naked ass while delivering half heart-ed smacks to my rear. Wow, in the early days my ass would be raw after a spanking or whipping with the crop. My discipline was now just a formality for minor transgressions. I still hoped he would stop making me stand naked in the corner, a humiliating punishment I hated the most. Thankfully, he hadn't done that in a while.
Later that first day, after my punishment, he left me in the room to work from the hotel lobby. Alone in the room I flipped the TV on and channel surfed through all the French programming until I found the BBC World Service. The subject of the documentary airing was the issue of trafficking of women from India and Eastern Europe for the purposes of unpaid work and sex slavery. My television privileges at the ranch were controlled by Xavier so this opportunity to view unrestricted was illuminating and unsettling. The internal debate I endlessly had with myself over the ethics of my acquiescence to Xavier's enslavement had quieted the last few months. The Arie situation had something to do with that. But now it all returned.
The documentary brought the basic evil of my captivity all crashing back. The fact that I was very well treated and given significant privileges including this trip to Europe did not change the basic fact that I was a captive of a man for the purpose of access to my body. In a part of my mind I knew I should be fighting back, never accepting the loss of freedom. Not doing so was to give in to the traffickers and en-slavers and the rapists who treated women as objects to be bought and sold. I accepted that my current situation was a truce between Xavier and myself and that one day I would escape. In the end I could not live a captive forever.
****
Returning to the hotel after a successful shopping trip I slipped into the beautiful room with a few of my accessory purchases. The dress was to follow the next day after minor alterations were completed. The bed was around a corner in the L shaped room and I called out to Xavier, "Sir, I'm back."
"Very good sweetheart, did you find a dress?" He had mentioned a surprise for tomorrow evening and that I needed formal wear for the event. I was excited to find out what he had planned. Rounding the corner I found him lying against the headboard, his hair wet from a recent shower, reading his tablet dressed only in a comfy looking pair of jeans. In my euphoric art inspired mood I smiled widely down at him as I leaned against the bed taking him in. Maybe it was the mood I was in but somehow he looked particularly delicious at that moment. His muscular upper body and handsome features made my stomach clench. I smiled wickedly at him and then moved on my knees until I straddled his hips. Bending down I reached over the tablet and brushed my lips over his.
Xavier slowly put his tablet down beside us on the bed and looked up questioningly into my eyes. I locked on to his and moved my hands to his chest, slowly massaging his pectorals and then up to his shoulders and neck. I had no plan and just went with my instincts. I almost never initiated sex with him. My master took what he wanted, when he wanted but today he just relaxed back into the pillows and half closed his eyes as I caressed his body.
I slowly dipped my head down and left a trail of kisses and nips of my teeth down to his nipples. I sucked and licked all around and on them and then moved down to his abdomen massaging and licking. He continued to lie there almost motionless but not quite. I could feel his manhood growing and his hips twitching under my rear. This really was novel for us. My role was almost always passive, doing what he wanted or requested. Today I felt this overwhelming urge to thank him for the magic day I had just experienced.
I sat back, shifting my rear down onto his legs and, still looking into his eyes for both approval and permission, I slowly undid the button and zipper of his jeans. He just stared neutrally into my eyes but I took the small smile at the corner of his mouth as permission. I pulled his jeans down further and finding no underwear I wrapped my hands gently and lovingly around his cock. As I sensually massaged his manhood a small hiss escaped his lips and his eyes slid closed.
Emboldened by the pleasure I was clearly delivering I moved my lips down to kiss and lick his shaft. I giggled with a thought that flicked through my mind as I pleasured this man. The though was that our entire relationship and in fact my whole existence was centred and driven by the needs and wants of the cock in my hands and in my mouth. While it was true the master/slave relationship was maybe morphing into something else, something more substantial it was this cock that was now deep into my mouth that inspired his need to own me.
