Chapter 52

Linda as a 24-hour slave

It is now Sunday, January the third, and I have finally recovered from my year-end and New Year’s antics in the club and with Alicia and her family. In two weeks, on the 15^th, Jeff and Rachel from Florida will arrive for their visit to Grace and Nancy, before traveling on to Italy to meet up with Gina and Victoria. That gives me ample time to collect on the 24 hours of Linda’s slavery I won in London, so, high time to give her a call.

“Hi Linda, this is your friendly Master from London calling.”

“Oh hi Lew, I was expecting a call. I was sure you wouldn’t forget about the challenge, or are you calling about something else?”

“No of course not, I can’t imagine you thought I’d forget about something as important as that?”

“No not really - but one can always hope.”

“Would you have forgotten should I have lost?”

“Probably not no. So when would you like to collect?”

“How about next weekend, unless you have something planned with Astrid or have to do a fashion thing somewhere else.”

“No, I’ve got nothing on, I’m busy on Monday, but free on Saturday and Sunday.”

“Excellent, and, just to make sure it’s not inconvenient in any other way, you don’t have your period?”

“No, that’s kind of you to think of that.”

“I’m afraid I’m more thinking of myself dear, it rather spoils the pleasure of eating pussy.”

“No you’re right there, but does that mean you will be eating my pussy then?”

“I did promise you, girls, at least 5 orgasms during your 24-hour period of slavery, and I intend to keep my promise. Cunnilingus is a very pleasurable way of giving a woman an orgasm.”

“God Lew, you say the nicest things,” she replied with a giggle.

“Excellent so how about we start your slavery Saturday evening at 6, until Sunday evening at 6.”

“Sounds good, I can still do a lot of stuff Saturday and I’ll be home in time to have a good night’s sleep for another week at the grindstone.”

“It’s a deal then, and by the way, don’t bother to put on or bring too many clothes, you’ll be naked most of the time anyway, especially when we go to the club Saturday evening.”

“Are we going to put on a show?”

“Would you like that?”

“Yes please, I loved it during the inauguration and again during the New Year’s Eve party, but I hope you will find something different for me this time, and you will be the only one playing with me.”

“That definitely, you will be my personally owned little sex slave to play with that night.”

“Oh my God I’m already getting all excited, you should feel my pussy getting all wet.”

“The thought of you getting all excited and wet makes me kind of horny as well, I can’t wait to get my hands on your enticing body again.”

“Is that all you intend to use, only your hands?”

“Don’t you worry my dear I’ll challenge you yet, I will take special lessons with Jack and Tanja to take you to and maybe even beyond your boundaries.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Just to warn you, you may look, how shall I put it? A bit used, marked for a couple of days after that weekend, I hope you don’t have any lingerie show or photo sessions on the week after?”

“No, no, nothing of the kind, it’s just regular work in Astrid’s boutique, it’s the sales period, Solden as we call it, you know.”

“Oh yes, Winter sales, how could I forget.”

“Yes, we’ll have plenty of visitors trying to buy stuff at reduced prices, once that’s finished we’ll be presenting the Spring collection, but I hope that by then all marks on my body will have disappeared.”

“I can guarantee it, no permanent marks.”

“Do I have to bring something special?”

“Yes maybe one thing, bring an apron.”

“An apron, why do I need an apron?”

“Your first assignment will consist of preparing your Master a nice meal.”

“Are you sure you want to risk that? I’m not exactly a kitchen princess.”

“If the food is not up to scratch, I’ll have every reason to punish you.”

“Oh I see, prepare yourself then for really bad food, I love to be punished, especially by you.”

“Be aware that punishment can come in various forms, it doesn’t always have to be a spanking or flogging, be aware that it’s winter and mighty cold outside and I may want more than just a quick nude snow angel.”

“Oh no Lew, you know how I abhor the cold.”

Note to self: I definitely need to foresee some punishment in the cold for her.

“That might be the right incentive to prepare a nice meal then,” I replied.

“You’ve really thought this through haven’t you?”

“Yes dear, that’s what makes the difference between a Master and a slave.”

“OK, I’ll practise this week in the kitchen to put a decent meal on the table for my Master.”

“That’s the spirit, I’ll send you a list of ingredients and what I would like you to prepare with them! So see you Saturday, 6 pm sharp, every second late will entail one lash with the whip.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Goodbye, slave.”

The remainder of the week was rather uneventful, with people dropping off memory cards or sticks with their New Year party snapshots for printing or a request to put them into a wall calendar, so before I realized it, it was five-thirty pm Saturday and I could close the shop. Again we weren’t lucky this season, we hadn’t had a white Christmas, but as it often did, it started to snow a few days after New Year, so I would be able to make a few nice snow angel photos with Linda in my roof garden.

To be on the safe side with the food that was going to be prepared by my slave, I chose to make her prepare something relatively simple. As a starter, I chose a simple vegetable soup with small meatballs. This was to be followed by chicken with the remainder of the small meatballs and mushrooms in a creamy sauce served in a puff pastry, otherwise known as “Vol au Vent”, and accompanied by croquettes from the deep freeze. Making them fresh would take too much time. To create a friendly atmosphere I opted for a bottle of Beaujolais Saint-Amour.

For dessert, I thought of vanilla ice cream with a dash of Hasselt coffee liqueur topped with whipped cream. I hoped that she would be able to prepare this without bungling it. In my opinion, it should take her a maximum of 1 to 1.5 hours to prepare. Cutting the veggies for the soup and rolling the small meatballs would absorb most of the time. I had bought a fried chicken so all she needed to do was cut it up into the right size small chunks. Cutting the mushrooms, making the creamy sauce, and frying the croquettes was child’s stuff.

I hoped we could finish the meal by 9. Depending on her food preparation performance I would either just shoot the snow angel photos or punish her a bit by leaving her a little longer naked in the cold on my roof garden. I hoped a bit for the second option as it would be great fun to warm her up again with a flogger when I allowed her back inside.

A few minutes before 6 the bell rang. When I checked the video phone, I saw it was Linda, so I buzzed her in. I heard her bound up the stairs so I opened the apartment door. She looked at me and said, “Hi Lew, am I on time?”

I looked very sternly at her and she looked back a bit surprised by my stern look.

“Have I done anything wrong?” she asked.

“You’ve done a lot, wrong slave!” I said, “first you are still dressed, the rule was that you should be naked at all times when in a private residence. Second I’m not Lew to you, I’m your Master and you should address me as such. Third, you will not speak unless asked a direct question. So you’ve already earned yourself 3 times 10 lashes with whatever instrument of punishment I deem fit or any alternative punishment I can think of.”

She just stood there looking at me not knowing if I meant it or what to do next. I looked again at her with the angriest face I could muster and continued, “what are you waiting for, take those clothes off.”

I’d never before seen her shed her clothes so fast. I think she was starkers’ in less than 3 seconds, her clothes strewn all over the floor at her feet. She also understood immediately that this was for real and that I meant business, so as soon as she was naked, she assumed the slave waiting position, her hands behind her lower back and her feet at shoulder width, her legs slightly opened, eyes looking straight ahead.

I walked around her and when I stood behind her I couldn’t resist giving a slap with my hand on one of her buttocks. She flinched, I guessed more because she didn’t expect it as it couldn’t have really hurt. I proceeded to attach a leather collar with a metal ring in the front around her neck and hooked a leash to the ring by which I could lead her like an obedient little puppy.

“OK slave, pick up your stuff,” I barked while tugging on the leash guiding her into the apartment. She looked a bit flushed, and I could see in her eyes she was angry, as in her mind she had arrived well on time and had no idea I was going to play it that strictly. Maybe I needed to let her cool down a bit, so I took her straight to the big window overlooking the roof garden, opened it, and led her outside into the dark, where I attached her by the leash to one of the pillars of the gazebo about halfway into the garden and left her there. It was about -5° C (23°F) and the ground was covered with a few inches of snow.

I switched on a spotlight and watched her from the inside. I saw her put her arms around her body but it didn’t take very long for her to start shivering. I could imagine her feet must be freezing standing in the snow. I left her there for about 60 seconds, which I think to her must have felt more like 10 minutes. When I led her back inside, it took her a while to stop shivering.

“Are we still an angry slave?”

“No Master,” she whispered, her teeth chattering.

“Excellent, now put on your apron and you can get started on the meal.”

She quickly picked up the apron she had brought from the pile of clothes she had taken off and moved to the kitchen.

“What you need is in the fridge,” I said.

She went to the fridge, got the vegetables out for the soup, and started peeling, slicing, and dicing them. By the time she had finished, she had stopped shivering and was working pretty fast and efficiently. In no time at all, she had a pot boiling on the induction cooker and a nice smell started to permeate the apartment. Next, she took out the ground meat to roll the little meatballs for the soup and the Vol au Vent. The apron she had brought was rather small, it had a narrow part on the top which sometimes allowed her boobs to spill out the side whenever she moved a little fast, regularly giving me enticing views. The back however was the most alluring, with just a little strap around her neck and a cute bow at her lower back, just above her jutting buttocks. When I looked at the front the apron barely covered her pubic area. When she moved around I could regularly feast my eyes on her pussy as it occasionally peeked from under the apron.

I was getting hornier and hornier. I congratulated myself on instructing Linda to bring an apron. A woman always looks that little bit more alluring when parts of her naked body are covered or partially hidden from view, and this apron sure as hell did the trick. I was wondering if her body temperature was increasing as well, and I’m not talking about her whole body but only certain specific parts. I needed to know so I snuck up behind her while she was concentrating on rolling the little meatballs and slid my hand between her legs. She almost jumped out of her skin giving a small shriek, as all of a sudden she felt my hand between her legs. There was no doubt she was horny just like I was, her pussy felt lightly moist, and when I slid one finger inside she moaned.

“Do you like this?” I whispered in her ear.

“Oh yes Master, I prefer this over the cold outside.”

“I can imagine you do, but you knew you were going to be punished when you found out you were not obeying the rules and giving me that angry look.”

“Yes and I’m very sorry Master, I deserved to be punished.”

“Yes, but I guess you had another kind of punishment in mind when you found out, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Master I was hoping that you would give me a spanking or a flogging.”

“Don’t you worry my little slave, the cold treatment was just to warm you up for what’s to come,” I said with a chuckle, hoping she understood the pun, and she did.

“So when do you think we can have our dinner?”

“I hope to be ready by seven-thirty Master.”

“Excellent, would you care for an aperitif?”

“I would love one Master if that is allowed.”

“It most certainly is, it’s not because you are my slave this evening that you shouldn’t enjoy a dinner with all the trimmings, Champagne OK for you?”

“Oh yes, Master I’d like that very much.”

I opened a bottle of champers and poured each of us a flute. I saw she drank thirstily from it, already hot from the cooking. Excellent, it would help her shed the last of her inhibitions, not that she had many left after her appearances in the club, but it always helps to do just that little bit more. I must say I was very pleasantly surprised by her cooking. The food was excellent, she had managed to roll the tiniest meatballs I’d ever seen and tasted. I couldn’t fault her there, it was a good thing she had made the mistakes when she arrived. It took me a while to find an idea - maybe I could punish her for keeping the apron on while we ate. Halfway through the meal, I again looked sternly at her.

“Haven’t you forgotten something slave?”

She looked at me with big fearful eyes, not knowing what I was hinting at.

“Please tell me Master so that I can correct it,” she replied.

“What was the rule about clothing?”

“That I needed to be completely naked any time I was in a private residence.”

“And are you naked?”

She looked at herself and suddenly realized she was still wearing her apron. “I’m so sorry Master I completely forgot to take it off when we started the meal and I was no longer preparing it.” She jumped up and removed it in a flash.

“That’s much better, but I will need to add to your punishment for breaking this rule.”

“Yes, Master,” she said looking demurely into her plate while she continued eating.

When she finished her food, she waited until I had, then cleared the table and prepared the dessert. By the time we had finished the ice cream with the coffee liqueur and whipped cream, she was sufficiently cooled down on the inside to now cool her outside by making a snow angel outside in the garden. I didn’t think it would feel as bad as the first time because between the two of us we had finished a bottle of champagne and one of Beaujolais Saint-Amour, plus a good shot of Hasselt coffee liqueur in the dessert.

She didn’t protest when I led her back outside and made her lie down in the virgin snow in the garden and make a snow angel. It was divine, her naked body on the white snow with her arms and legs shifting the snow producing the angel image. She even seemed to enjoy herself as she kept on swiveling with her arms and legs, producing a tiny mountain of snow against her pussy and next to her naked body. When I had taken all the photos I had in mind, including a small video, I stuck out my hand to help her back to her feet. When I let go she put her arms high in the air, and danced around in the snow before turning a couple of cartwheels; she was stunning. When I led her back inside I took her in my arms and kissed her passionately. She responded likewise slipping her hot tongue deep into my mouth.

I took my shirt off quickly as I wanted to feel her ice-cold skin and tits against me and warm her up again. The French would refer to them as “seins de glace” or “Ice Breasts”, but as it is pronounced the same way in French as “Ice Saints” or “Saints de Glace”, it’s probably best avoided. For those interested, these three Saints Days occur mid-May and traditionally you don’t get frost after those dates so from then onwards you can put frost-sensitive seedlings and plants outside.

Anyway, for the moment, let’s forget Saints and stick with “les seins”. When I bent down to suck on her cold, rock-hard nipples it felt like licking an ice popsicle. When I put my hands on her butt it also felt ice cold. Moving my hand between her legs gave me a totally different feeling, there she was hot and wet, and I suspected not only from the melted snow.

Once I had tasted her tits, I also wanted to taste her pussy, so I dropped to my knees and attacked her snatch, licking and sucking on her pussy lips, and moving towards her pleasure bean which had never felt this cold to my tongue. It was like a frozen drop of water hiding under its protective hood, but I soon melted it, making her moan. While she remained standing with her legs slightly apart, I continued feverishly licking and sucking her cunt, seeking the entrance to her wet channel with my tongue. Maybe this was a good time to give her the first of the 5 promised orgasms during her 24-hour period as my slave.

She sure started giving all the signs of an approaching climax. She held my head against her mons wordlessly, urging me wordlessly on to eat her pussy out. Now sitting on the floor I had slid between her open legs with both my hands on her butt cheeks pushing her against my face. She opened her legs a bit more and I went searching with my fingers for her backdoor. Once I found it I tried to slip a finger in. At first, I met some resistance but with the help of the juices flowing from her pussy I managed to slide it inside of her to the first knuckle. Once the first part was in, the remainder of my finger found its way easily into her dark passage.

I could clearly feel that she was now on the brink of an orgasm when all of a sudden I had an idea. I had given myself a gift over the Christmas period, something I’ve always wanted to buy but never got around to it: a nicely padded massage table. What better way to inaugurate this new toy of mine, plus, what better punishment could I inflict on Lind than keeping her on edge and denying her a quick orgasm, so I pulled my finger out of her ass and stopped eating her pussy.

“Why did you stop? I am just on the verge of an orgasm,” she said with a plaintive voice.

“You will only orgasm when I allow you to orgasm slave, and for the moment I prefer to keep you on edge.”

“Oh no Master, please...”

“Shut up and come with me,” I stood up, grabbed her leash, and led her to the spare bedroom where I had the massage table set up, “lie down on your back,” I barked. Linda climbed onto the table and lay down her arms next to her body. While she was doing that I dropped my trousers and boxer shorts, I was now as naked as she was.

“Arms up, I want to see them tities of yours on full display!” which she immediately did. I took up a position just behind her head and began to tickle along the inside of her arms. Of course, she tried to pull away but I was prepared and grabbed her right wrist and cuffed it to the top of the table, the left one quickly followed. Now she couldn’t bring her arms down anymore, giving me full unrestricted access to her naked upper body. She couldn’t keep from laughing like crazy though and kept squirming quite a bit when I continued my trip toward her armpits and further down her ribcage.

When I had tickled her enough, I grabbed a bottle of baby oil, squirted a generous amount between her tits, and began massaging her fun bags. I then let my hands travel down her abdomen towards her pussy, which unfortunately I just couldn’t reach from my position at the head of the table. My hard cock slid over her hair and forehead, all the way to her nose. She felt it and like a snake, she began to slide upward, bringing my cock closer to her mouth. I took my hands away from her to let her do what she wanted to do. She slid so much up that her head was now over the edge of the massage table, hanging down and when I approached again she took my cock deep into her hot mouth.

When I now again began to massage her upper body I could easily reach her pussy. “Clever girl,” I thought, she pleasures me and hopes I will do the same for her now that I can reach her cunt with my hands and fingers. Well, I wouldn’t want to fail her, this kind of initiative deserves to be rewarded, and I couldn’t think of any better reward than an orgasm. I had a Magic Wand hidden under the table, so I grabbed it, turned it on to the lowest position, and pressed it against her snatch. Although eventually, my ultimate goal was to give her, her much-desired orgasm, I still wanted to keep her on edge for a while. She began to moan. The vibrations she thus created around my cock deep in her mouth were not exactly what I was aiming for as I didn’t want to cum yet, so I braced myself, concentrating on her pussy.

As if on automatic pilot she opened her legs wider and wider while taking my cock even deeper in her mouth to make me cum, probably hoping that I would take pity on her and let her cum too. My only possible defense was to turn up the vibrations of the magic wand or pull my cock out of her mouth, which was difficult the way I was positioned. I decided to go for broke and put her out of her misery and let her cum while she made me cum, so I turned the magic wand to maximum. Her reaction was immediate. She pulled her legs up like a frog, opening even wider than before, arching her back, and hollowing her stomach. The way she was now, she looked extremely alluring, it was a pity I didn’t have any hands free to take pictures. Her moaning increased fivefold giving me most probably the same feeling on my cock as the wand must be producing on her pussy.

Both our breathing became fast and shallow as a torrent of searing pleasure burned through our bodies, causing hers to convulse as she tumbled over the crest, and took me with her into a body-shuddering orgasm. Her cunt squirted all over the place with her belly pulsing as she howled out her rapture, while I filled her eager mouth with rope after rope of sticky semen, growling and grumbling deep in my throat. As she sucked the last drops of cum out of my slowly softening cock, I pulled it out and saw her swallow. I dropped on a nearby chair and she tried to sit back on the table, but her cuffed hands didn’t allow it. I guess her neck must have been pretty sore from the unnatural position it had been in for the past 15 to 20 minutes while sucking me, so I quickly undid the cuffs.

She whispered, “Thank you, Master.”

“My pleasure slave,” I replied, after which we both burst out laughing at the absurdity of our remarks. But then Linda looked very seriously at me, and I wondered why.

“Lew...”

“Master,” I corrected her.

She kept on looking seriously which got me worried a bit, so I looked again at her and asked, “what is it? Don’t you want to play anymore?”

“I don’t mind playing but if it’s OK with you I would like to have your advice on something first,” she said looking gloomy.

“What is it darling, what’s on your mind?”

“How can I put it ... I’ve got a problem and I don’t have anyone I can talk to, and over time, you’ve become some sort of a father figure to me.”

“I wouldn’t really describe our relationship as a father/daughter relationship, not with all the sex we’ve had, but OK, what’s bothering you, am I too old?”

“No nothing like that, and I thoroughly enjoy the sex, but as I said I know no one older with more life experience like you I can talk to.”

“You’re not pregnant are you?”

“No silly, I know very well how to avoid getting pregnant, it’s more about relationships and trying to figure out what I want in life for myself. This thing with Astrid and others that I’m now modeling for, it’s nice but it will end, fairly soon I think, I’m not exactly a spring chicken anymore.”

“Yes but you have your studies, you wanted to be a lawyer?”

“Yeah I know, but now I’m not so sure any more about that either.”

“Would you like to study something different?”

“No, not really, oh Lew, I don’t know what I want,” she said while she came into my arms crying. I let her cry a bit until it finally died down and she sat up again, her eyes all red and puffy. I gave her a handkerchief to dry her eyes and cheeks and blow her nose. It became immediately clear to me she had a whole bunch of unresolved issues from the past and present.

“It’s obvious to me that there’s something serious, but it seems you’re struggling to talk about it?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like to give it a try?”

“I don’t know, you’ll probably think I’m being silly.”

“If it’s such a problem for you, I will never think you’re being silly dear, but take your time, we have about 20 hours left to talk about what it is that’s bothering you.”

“What about my time as your slave then?”

“I think this is far more important than any silly slave/Master game, I love you far too much to put something like that before your well-being.”

“Do you really love me?”

“Yes dear, I love you like a friend, like a father even if you wish, but I’m not in love with you, I hope you understand the difference. I will do anything for you, even give up the wonderful sex we have if that can make you feel better.”

We sat together silently on the massage table for a long time, me holding her in one arm, her head resting on my shoulder, her hands in her lap, when all of a sudden she burst out.

“I have met a guy and he claims he’s in love with me and I love the great sex we have together but something is missing.”

“Can you elaborate on the ‘something’?”

“Well he makes me feel good and he’s always very considerate when we have sex, making sure I always cum before he does. He never asks me to do something I don’t want to do, well basically a bit like when I have sex with you, but something is missing, something I feel when I’m with you and I don’t feel with him.”

“And what is that something then that you feel with me and not with him?”

“How can I describe it, some sort of security, a feeling of being wanted and taken care of, as I said the sex is wonderful, but ... say something would happen, one or other calamity ... I don’t know a fire or an earthquake, I think he would first save himself and leave me be, and that’s not the kind of feeling I have when I’m with you or that I would like to have when I consider spending the rest of my life with someone.”

“Maybe this a stupid question, but do you think he is too much of a selfish guy?”

“I don’t think so for the moment, but I think if given the opportunity he would and that is a part of the kind of security I’m missing.”

“Do I gather from all this that you would like to settle with a man, have babies, and live happily ever after, like in the fairytales?”

“Yes and no, I don’t believe in fairytales anymore, but I still would like to lead a more normal life than my parents.”

“What happened with your parents? Are they still around?”

“No both my parents died, but while they were alive it was pure hell, and somehow I’ve got a feeling that with this boyfriend I have it might end up very similar to what happened with my parents.”

“Would it help if you tell me about it?”

“I don’t know, I sort of had hoped to leave it in the past and forget about it.”

“Maybe, talking about it can help to process it and give it a place, have you ever talked to a professional?”

“No, not really, my foster mother suggested it, but I was too young and not close enough to her to accept her suggestion.”

“So you were in foster care?”

“Yes, it was only a few months, but compulsory by law, from the time my mother died to my eighteenth birthday when I became an adult. The period was far too short to build a meaningful relationship with this woman.”

“And you feel that our relationship is more meaningful and deeper than with her?”

“Hey Lew, you deflowered me ... twice ... back and front, you helped me get an interesting job, how close can you get to a person?”

“Yes, you’re right, so do you feel you can talk to me about your relationship with your parents, or is it still too raw?”

“I think I could talk to you, but first I would like you to make tender love to me as only you can.”

“Is this a ploy to avoid being punished for not following orders when you arrived?”

“No not at all, if you want to flog me first go right ahead, but promise me you’ll make tender love to me afterward.”

“I’m only joking dear, I trust you as you trust me, and after what you told me I don’t think a flogging is required, we’ll just stick to tender loving care.”

After which I took her by the hand, led her to my bedroom, made her lie down on the bed, and spooned her, my arms around her in a protective manner. I felt her shiver.

She began to tell me about her past and the awful times she experienced living with her parents. When she began telling me about the boyfriend, I was quickly convinced that he was not the guy to make her happy and, while a little reluctant to make decisions for her, nevertheless advised her to end it as soon as she could. I felt her relax more as her story came to a close, clearly happy that she could share such intimate things with me and that I had confirmed what she already knew deep inside she had to do. We lay spooned for a very long time, just enjoying each other’s company, not interested in anything sexual, one hand just stroking her arm or leg, the other holding one of hers across her shoulder.