La Chatte Heureuse (The Happy Pussy)
Copyright© 2021 by Rachael Jane
Chapter 92: Pearl: Four Hour Hire
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 92: Pearl: Four Hour Hire - The Happy Pussy is an exclusive women-only club located on a remote island. Nicole suddenly finds herself unemployed and homeless. The advertisement for a receptionist position at the club is her lifeline. Only when the sexually inexperienced Nicole arrives on the island does she realise exactly what sort of activities are carried on at the club. She is drawn into the dark and alluring world of debauchery the club offers and which push her moral boundaries to breaking point.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa Consensual Slavery Lesbian Fiction BDSM DomSub FemaleDom Humiliation Light Bond Spanking Double Penetration Food Masturbation Sex Toys Squirting Slow Illustrated
Pearl
I silently berate myself for walking into Madame Claire without thinking of the risk of being ‘hired’. Opal and I are due to report for club work this afternoon, and being diverted to prepare lunch for Madame Claire and her three friends won’t leave Opal and me much time to be ready by two o’clock.
“Opal and I are scheduled to work this afternoon, Madame,” I say. “We need to report to the Common Room by two o’clock.”
“Okay,” replies Madame Claire. “I’ll let Nicole or Rebecca know that you’ll be late.”
“Um ... We should be finished before then, Madame,” says Opal. “You can only hire us for one hour.”
“Don’t argue with me, Slave Opal. Yes, each of us can only hire you for one hour ... but there are four of us, so once my hire of Pearl finishes, Madame Elspeth can hire her. Similarly, when you hour serving Madame Nora is finished, then Madame Kane will hire you. That’s four hours that you and Pearl are ours.”
I look at Opal in shock. I hadn’t considered the prospect of being hired for more than an hour, but I cannot fault the logic of what Madame Claire says. Quite what they intend to do with us is a big unknown that none of the four mistresses is ready to divulge.
The six of us return to the Tower, and go up to Madame Claire’s suite on level 3. Opal and I are promptly given the task of preparing lunch for the four mistresses. Unlike the Slave caste kitchen on level 1, there’s no central kitchen for the Mistress caste suites on the upper levels. Consequently the kitchen in each suite is larger than in the suites elsewhere in the complex. Fortunately the ingredients we need are already available, suggesting Madame Claire had anticipated hosting lunch for her friends.
“What are we going to do about our afternoon work duties?” Opal asks me as we work in the kitchen.
“Tessa or one of the staff mistresses will reschedule the work roster,” I reply. “We’ll probably have to make up time on another day.”
It takes us about fifteen minutes to prepare the light lunch. Opal and I sneak some food while we prepare the meals for the mistresses. Nothing was said about us feeding ourselves, so we take it upon ourselves to look after our own lunch. When we serve the meals, it becomes obvious that we made the right choice.
Opal and I are ordered to stand by the wall while the mistresses eat at the table. Periodically we are summoned to fill glasses or remove plates. Once the meal is finished, we are instructed to tidy up and place the dirty crockery in the suite’s dishwasher.
So far we have only been hired for a little less than an hour. If we were released now, we could still make it in time for our afternoon club work. However, the four mistresses clearly have no intention of releasing us yet.
“Play time, ladies,” chortles Madame Claire to the other mistresses.
The look of excitement on the faces of the four mistresses prompts me to recall a comment Amber made about her being hired by Madame Lucy last night. She described the experience as like watching overgrown teenagers behaving badly. This afternoon has the hallmarks of a similar bout of youthful exuberance from women no longer in their youth.
“Teams or solo?” asks Madame Nora.
“Teams, I think,” replies Madame Claire. “You, me and Pearl, against Kane, Elspeth and Opal.”
I’ve no idea what is about to happen, but the mistresses have clearly done this before. Madame Claire goes to fetch something from the bedroom, while the other three mistresses start clearing an area in the centre of the room.
“Don’t just stand there, Slaves,” snaps Madame Kane. “Help move the furniture to the sides of the room.”
Without understanding why, Opal and I help move the heavier furniture. By the time the centre of the room is clear, Madame Claire has returned with a box of various bondage toys and equipment.
“Let’s play Turtles!” cries Madame Elspeth.
Neither Opal nor I have any idea what that entails, but the other three mistresses readily agree. We find out the rules soon enough ... or at least, most of the rules.
To explain: Opal and I have our limbs bound so that each wrist is taped as tightly as possible to our respective upper arm, and each ankle to our thigh. Our only means of movement is to crawl using our elbows and knees for support, or flop along the floor like a turtle ... hence the game’s name. Each pair of mistresses then places small items to be gathered around the room by the opposing team’s slave.
After a few disputes about out-of-reach placements, the mistresses are ready to begin the game. Opal and I are hauled into position and two towels placed on the floor behind us. We are told to fetch the team’s designated items and place them on our team’s towel. The team with the most items collected within the time limit are the winners.
There are two additional rules that we only learn after the game starts. Firstly, accidentally retrieving an item placed by our own team counts against our team. Since none of the items are marked by team, Everyone must remember who placed which item where. I certainly wasn’t paying much attention to that, so I’m reliant on Madame Nora and Madame Claire to guide me. The second unspoken rule, is that the mistresses can do everything in their power to sabotage a slave’s efforts short of physically touching her. Obstacles appearing in our path, or lashes from a whip are all perfectly acceptable ploys.
I soon discover that even when I manoeuvre to an object, transporting in back to the towel is far from easy. Some items can be carried between my teeth, but others are not so easy. It doesn’t help that the advice I receive from my team-mates is often contradictory. My only consolation is that Opal seems to be experiencing the same problems.
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