"I need you to help me out on this Marcus"
"You are asking a lot, sir."
"You have to understand, Marcus, just as I pay your salary, the men who keep me solvent will be my guests tonight. With Maria down with a broken leg, I NEED a pretty young slave to serve the meal or I will lose face. The slave markets are about to close, and even if I could get across town in time, the only slaves left this late in the day are the old crones and the ugly hags. If by some miracle, I was able to score a young and pretty one, she would, no doubt, be completely unskilled. Helene has seen Maria serve first-hand. It would be easy for her to fill in for her for a few hours. A man of my status MUST have a truly beautiful slave attending to his colleagues, or he is nobody!"
The young man met his boss's penetrating gaze.
"I'll sweeten the pot Marcus, two thousand credits! Half tonight, the rest in the morning. I promise nothing will happen to Helene."
The handsome young man gazed at his beautiful young wife. The redheaded beauty gave a slight nod. Marcus owed his boss so much. Mr. Tiberius had taken a chance on Marcus after his rather checkered apprenticeship. The young man thrived under the older man's tutelage. Together, they had increased each other's bottom line. Marcus's acumen had brought a new layer of wealth to his boss, who, in turn, had rewarded his young protégé well. He and Helene were far from wealthy, but they anticipated a much brighter future. This small but wonderful house near Tiberius's factory was just the latest example. Marcus and Helene even talked lately of scraping the funds together to purchase an older slave themselves in the next few years. One experienced with children. And then Helene and Marcus could begin a family. And two thousand credits for little effort would help both he and Helene out enormously. Perhaps they could begin their family even earlier! At last, he spoke.
"If it is alright with Helene, it is alright with me."
The stout, wealthy businessman turned his head towards the statuesque redhead and raised an eyebrow, "What do you say, Helene, my dear?"
"You have always been fair to us Mr. Tiberius; you took a chance on Marcus when no one else would. I almost feel as though I owe this to you. It will do my best in filling in for Maria tonight."
"Splendid!" exclaimed the short, stout man. He reached into his bag an extracted a wad of bills which he placed in Marcus's palm.
"Time is of the essence, Helene," continued Tiberius, "Follow me to my carriage, Bernard my overseer will see that your masquerade is effective. But hurry, we must fly!"
Helene was in and out of her husband's arms as they exchanged embraces and brief but deep and passionate kisses.
"I'll have her back first thing tomorrow, Marcus," said Tiberius as he gathered up Helene's hand and led her out of his employee's house.
Marcus followed them out into the street and watched his boss's impressive coach drive off at a brisk pace. The money in his grasp felt very good and the promise of it doubling on the morrow felt even better. True, he was not pleased in any way with how much of his wife's supple and wondrous form would be on display in the scanty attire slaves wore but it was only for one night and Helene had absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. Marcus wondered if the jewelers was still open. He wanted to purchase a present for his incredibly sexy bride. On second thought, perhaps it was better that they go together, and she pick out something herself. Helene rarely liked Marcus's taste in jewelry.
As the carriage sped towards Tiberius's mansion, Helene asked what would be expected of her, even though she had a very good idea what it would entail.
"Bernard will take charge of you, when we reach my home, he will get you outfitted as a typical slave. You will serve and fetch drinks, flirt with my guests and serve the meal as would any typical slave girl. Of course, my slaves are clad atypically, they wear silk and silver. I apologize in advance for any embarrassment, Helene. If Maria had not broken her leg this afternoon..."
"I quite understand, sir. I can tolerate one night of embarrassment, especially for the stipend you paid my husband."
"If my meeting goes as I expect, I shall more than reclaim it. I have to emphasize that you perform dutifully and gracefully tonight. I have no doubt my guests will be impressed with your beauty."
"Thank you, sir," returned Helene, suddenly feeling a bit awkward by the fact that her husband's boss had apparently been ardently studying her physique for some time.
The drive to Mr. Tiberius's huge mansion was not overly long. The coach pulled to a stop before the front door and the stout, dark-featured man assisted the red tressed young woman out. A few steps across the cobblestones and they were in the front door. Even though she had been in this foyer and front room before, Helene was still amazed by the luxury on display. Not for the first time, she wondered just how much of Tiberius's wealth came from her husband's efforts. Was her man being underpaid?
She did not have time to contemplate that mystery very long. Tiberius handed her off immediately to a profoundly powerfully built and profoundly ugly man.
"Helene, this is Bernard. Bernard, this is Helene, she will be filling in for Maria at my gathering tonight. You have just a little over an hour to transform her and get her situated."
Helene curtsied while Bernard undressed her with his large deep brown eyes.
"No problem, boss."
Bernard took Helene's hand and barked, "Come, girl!"
He led her into the bowels of the mansion. In a white on white tiled room he turned to her and commanded, "Strip!"
"Certainly, Bernard, if you will just give me some privacy."
The big man rolled his eyes, "You WILL address me as SIR. Slaves don't warrant the luxury of "privacy." Now, hop to it!"
"Yes, Sir!" returned Helene smartly. She understood intuitively that it would be a very bad idea to cross this man. He was a slave overseer so her nudity would simply be yet another naked human being he had processed. She swallowed hard and asked,
"Where shall I place my things?"
Bernard pointed to an empty box in a cubby hole in the wall.
Helene sighed heavily and rolled her eyes heavenward as her hands strayed to the fastener of her quite modest dress. In another moment, it was over her head and off. She stood there, an alabaster vision, clad in just her underwear and stockings.
"I don't have all day, girl!" barked the overseer.
Helene contemplated her next move for a moment or so before unfastening her bandeau and freeing her spectacular breasts. Bernard, often blasé in assessing slave flesh was impressed. He wondered where his boss had found such a lovely woman. Helen placed her dress and bandeau in the wooden box, collected her breath and stepped out of her shoes. She placed these in the box before unclasping the garter from her suspenders and unrolling the stocking from her beautifully turned left leg. The right stocking quickly followed the left. Bernard felt himself involuntarily stiffen, something that had not happened to him in the presence of a slave in more years than he could recall. This redhead was far more beautiful and desirable than Maria, and Bernard had believed Maria, the finest woman he had ever processed. Helene quickly divested herself of her suspenders and step ins. Bernard emitted a barely audible gasp.
"Jewelry!" He commanded.
"Those are my wedding and engagement rings!"
"When is the last time you encountered a married slave?"
"But..." began Helene.
"Take them off as well as the pearl studs from your ears or I will rip them off myself!"
Helene's eyes teared up as she twisted off the two objects she treasured more than anything else in the world. She stifled a sob as she set them down atop her clothes. The earrings, while a gift from Marcus, meant far less to her, still she detested being forced to remove them.
"Those nails. They need to be trimmed and the lacquer removed. Into the nearest tub. Your feminine thatch will be reduced to an oval above the slit by my girls, then we get you a collar and an alluring outfit."
"Is all of this necessary?"
"Yes, it is if this masquerade is to be successful. As far as I am concerned, you are just another slave. Which is how you should start seeing yourself as of this moment!"
"Yes, Sir," replied Helene weakly in a defeated voice. "No amount of money was worth this!" she thought bitterly.
In the tub, two rather plain collared women washed Helene thoroughly head to toe. Her long crimson shaded nails were cut back severely and recoated with a clear lacquer. Her toenails were similarly bared and repainted. Helene bit her lower lip as the women started upon her abundant bush, clearing almost all of it away, leaving only a thumb-sized oval of crimson above her shaven sex. Helene looked on the transformation of her nether regions in horror. She never imagined that Tiberius's quest for verisimilitude would be this exacting!
She was unceremoniously pulled from the tub and meticulously dried. Bernard appeared with a silver and chromium-plated collar. In another moment, it was around Helene's long and slim neck. The naked woman tugged on it, but the metal ring stubbornly refused to budge.
"We have a timetable, slave. This way to wardrobe."
"I'm NOT a slave!"
"What did I tell you? Tonight, you are and you best be stepping into that role. If the boss is disappointed with me, he will take it out of my hide! Now, do I have to take you across my knee for you to get with the program?"
"No, Sir!" mumbled Helene.
Bernard led her to rows of garments hanging from rods. The fact that they were silk and pretty, delighted Helene a great deal. The subsequent realization that they were extremely short and would expose nearly the entirety of her trim long legs, had Helene feeling far less sanguine. The wispy garment, aside from a gossamer thong, would be her only attire for the rest of the evening. Helene considered her reflection in the mirror. Her nipples and the line of her areolas could be easily spied through the thin fabric. The collar complemented her ivory skin and her large green eyes offset her hair wonderfully. Helene knew that she was beautiful but strove to not be vain about it. She could just imagine however the reaction her appearing in exclusively male company in this outfit would set off. At times like this, she wished she were plain. "If I were ordinary, that would not make any difference to Marcus," she mused. Her reverie was interrupted by Bernard giving her last-minute instructions.
