Chapter 2

You awoke late the next morning, Angela's arms wrapped around you from behind as she snuggled into your warm, strong body. Bustling about the room was Darya; the young, beautiful Russian who was wearing only a t-shirt had already placed your breakfast tray down by your bedside and was now opening the curtains. Marie, meanwhile, was squatting, naked apart from her leather dog collar, on her haunches, your copy of the Financial Times held in her mouth. Angela began to stir, her hand slipping down to your groin and fastening playfully around your already erect penis. You often woke in a state of arousal and all three of your slaves knew and adored this... hence the reason why your breakfast consisted of cold items that would not spoil by being left while you enjoyed your early morning fuck. But this morning you had something different in mind and so, rolling over, you told Angela to lay on her stomach and to spread her legs. Disappointment crossed your slave's face for she knew what this meant, but she obeyed never-the-less and, once she was in position, you lay on top of her and rammed your prick hard into her arse. Below you, your slave bucked once and yelped but you ignored her discomfort and, relaxing your muscles, emptied the contents of your bladder into her arse. Once you had drained yourself, you pulled out of her and dismounted. Angela now swung herself out of the bed and hurried away to the bathroom, the cheeks of her bum clamped tightly shut so as not to spill a drop of your urine over the carpet. You smiled to yourself as you thought that this invaluable use of a slut as a mobile toilet had been one of your better ideas. You didn't use it often but on the mornings where you just felt too lazy to be bothered to get out of bed, it was the perfect answer to the problem. Now you signalled Darya to your side and she, prepared as always with a damp cloth in her hand, approached the bed before using the cloth to wipe the remnants of Angela's shit from your dick. Sorted out now, you partook of a swig of orange juice before taking the paper from Marie, patting her on the head, and telling her that she was a good dog...

With breakfast over, you enjoyed a nude swain in your heated pool before dressing in a track suit and going out for your morning jog. Leaving your three slaves to get on with the housework, you set off at an easy pace down the drive and out onto the road, your thick cock slapping against your thighs for you didn't like to feel the constraint of underwear while exercising. Waving to the neighbours in their gardens as you passed, you continued down the road for a few miles before turning into the drive of a large house set back well from the road. You rang the bell and waited impatiently until it was opened by a young girl barely in her early twenties. Seeing that it was you, a smile spread across her cute face with its upturned nose and freckles as she ushered you in. "Good morning, Jenny," you said watching pleased for, even as she led you along the corridor, she was peeling the thin black jumper she was wearing off over her head to reveal a lacy bra beneath. Jenny had been quite a find for you - you'd come upon her at the Tennis Club one Sunday afternoon. She was a common, scheming little hussy from the nearby council estate who'd managed to get herself pregnant by her then boss, a rich but ageing stockbroker in the City. He'd done the honourable thing and married her giving her everything she wanted... except for a satisfying sex life as he proved to be remarkably inept and unadventurous in this department. Within half an hour of meeting Jenny, you'd planted your cock between her legs and you'd not looked back since. You hadn't got her trained as a slave just yet and she didn't know about your lifestyle, but she was going to learn of it... and, already, she was unconsciously accepting you as her Dom, even if she didn't realise it. By the time you reached the bedroom, she was as naked as the day she'd been born, showing of a little clump of pussy hair as red as the much finer and longer tresses on her head. Her figure was magnificent - long, shapely legs, thin waist and a firm bum... all let down by her tits which, while of a magnificent size, had been artificially enhanced with silicon and a surgeon's skill. Clearly, this had been a desperate attempt on her husband's part to light some fires of desire in himself but it had failed... and, as far as you were concerned, it had spoilt the naturalness of the woman totally. But she was still a willing and able partner and you didn't mind playing away on occasion.

"Where's the little brat?" you asked, referring to her three year old son who could, on occasion, spoil your fun for you by demanding his mother's attentions just at the wrong moment.

Jenny smiled for she knew what you were thinking, "The au pair's with him," she answered as she climbed up onto the bed, laid on her back and spread her legs before smiling at you invitingly. Pulling down the bottom half of your track suit, you joined her, enjoying the feeling that cuckolding another man always brought you. Rolling onto your side, you kissed her tenderly. "Jenny? I'd like to play a little game with you if you don't mind. When we're alone, I'd like you to call me 'Master'. Would you do that for me?"

The girl smiled, "If it makes you perform even better than you usually do, I'll call you whatever you like... Master."

As your hand slipped up her inner thigh before nestling in her pussy fuzz, you grinned to yourself in satisfaction... soon this one would be yours totally...

A hour later, Jenny pulled on her jumper, sorted out the seams of her skin tight ski pants, blew you a kiss and left the room so she could see to her son who'd started crying, his shrieks cutting through the double glazing as if it wasn't there. But you didn't mind for the sex had been over by then and the small talk that went with after-play had never really interested you. You were a man's man - fuck 'em and then fuck off. What was all this love and caring crap about anyway? Women were there to be used and their feelings only existed to be manipulated. Still, Jenny was gone now - time for you to move on. Throwing back the covers, you heaved yourself out of the bed, dressed and slipped out of the house by the front door.

You hadn't gone far down the drive when a head topped with a mass of unruly blond hair peeked out of the bushes and a broad, southern American accent called, "Morning, sah..."

"And how's my favourite au pair?" you asked, moving over to the bushes and slipping through a gap in them.

"Why, I'm just fine and dandy, sah..." tittered young Amanda, a girl with an IQ less than her, admittedly generous, bust size... but a willing partner nonetheless... and one of the few true masochist you'd ever met. Wordlessly, she handed you a garden cane before bending over and clasping hold of her ankles. You lifted the hem of her short, pleated dress and surveyed the beautiful sight of her naked cheeks still marked with red strips from the last beating you had given her. Taking the cane, you laid into her, hard... and she simply loved it! The harder you hit her, the more she squirmed, her juices dripping out of her untouched pussy... and while you marvelled at the girl's ability to enjoy the most searing agony, you were thankful that she didn't actually require servicing for, just at the moment, you were all spunked out. A final thwack took Amanda over the edge and she climaxed noisily. Sweating just a little after all your execrations, you handed the cane back to her, accepted a kiss and said your farewells. As for Amanda's future, you weren't certain as to whether you wanted her as a slave or not. She would certainly sate you need and desire to whip and abuse women all on her own... but could you cope with her stupidity? That you weren't sure about...

By the time you reached home, your slaves had the place all clean and tidy. But you weren't about to accept this as gospel just because it looked good on the surface and so you began a tour of inspection. Running your fingers over several flat surfaces you found that the top of one picture frame in the lounge had not been properly dusted. "Who was responsible for this area?" you asked darkly.

"Erm... I was, Master," replied Angela.

You nodded slightly in understanding for she was the most slapdash of your slaves. "I might have guessed," you sighed wearily. "Once more I will have to try to teach you a lesson. Remove your blouse, slut."

Full of trepidation which clearly manifested itself upon her face, the woman did as you told her and then, following your further instructions, she linked her hands behind her neck and stood bare-breasted before you. Picking up an old fashioned cane carpet beater from out of a cupboard you approached the inept slave, instructing her to remain still. After swished the beater through the air a few times for effect, you landed a first blow on her right tit. As the cane landed, Angela flinched and yelped and you watched in morbid fascination as her gland deformed, flattened and then sprung back into shape before starting to glow a deep red. Your second blow landed on her left breast with similar results. Behind Angela, Darya glanced away, trying to divert her eyes from the scene while Marie, totally the opposite, licked her lips imagining that it was her bum being slapped and not the other slave's breasts. You landed a further two blows on your slave before bidding her to button herself up again. Now, after all the exercise that you'd had this morning, the next thing you desired before lunch was a shower and so you instructed Darya to go and turn one on in the main bathroom. While your young slave hurried to obey, you sent Marie back to the dog basket in the hallway before telling Angela to have a fifteen minute rest to compose herself and then to start work on lunch.