La Chatte Heureuse (The Happy Pussy)
Copyright© 2021 by Rachael Jane
Chapter 71: Melissa - Hired
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 71: Melissa - Hired - 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
The launch carrying today’s departures has barely disappeared around the headland when a White cat hands me a message from Nicole. ‘Bernice has hired you. E3F. As soon as possible.’
My stomach tightens. I knew this was coming. Madame Bernice said she would be hiring me early in her stay. The timing makes me feel uneasy, as though she was waiting for Madame Faye to leave. Waiting for her competition to be out of the way.
I let Beth know that I’m being called away, and after a quick wash, I head toward suite E3F.
Madame Bernice answers the door before I knock.
“Slave Melissa,” she says warmly. “Good. Come in.”
Bernice’s luggage is already stacked neatly inside; two large suitcases, two garment bags, and a smaller case that looks like it contains shoes. It’s a lot. Not as much as Madame Faye’s collection, but enough to make my arms ache recalling the weight when I transferred all this from the bus to the launch.
“I need help unpacking,” she says. “Clothes first.”
“Yes, Madame.”
I kneel beside the first suitcase and unzip it. The scent of expensive perfume drifts out; floral, sharp, and unmistakably Bernice. Inside are neatly folded dresses, tailored jackets, and silk blouses. Nothing risqué like Madame Faye’s collection. Madame Bernice’s style is bold in a different way. Her clothing is commanding and elegant.
As I lift each piece, Madame Bernice talks. Her conversation isn’t idle chatter, but with purpose.
“How have things been since my last visit?” “Are you still working in the gardens?” “Has anyone been giving you trouble?”
Her tone is friendly, but the questions are personal. Very personal. I answer carefully, keeping my voice neutral. When I move onto the second suitcase, she steps closer.
“You’ve grown more confident,” she says. “I noticed that the moment I saw you.”
I swallow. “I’ve become used to the club lifestyle, Madame.”
“This lifestyle clearly suits you. Not everyone who comes here can adapt so quickly, particularly if they are a member of the Slave caste.”
I notice that Madame Bernice has no intention of using the new nomenclature. Madame Faye constantly reverted to calling White cats ‘slaves’, but generally complied with the new naming convention. Personally, I don’t mind bring called a slave. Sometimes being called a slave gives me a better sense of myself, but I’m aware of the reason for the change.
Madame Bernice’s eyes linger on me for longer than is polite. I look down at her packed clothes, pretending to focus on the folds. She isn’t unkind or threatening. But she pushes, much in the same way Madame Faye does. Always just enough to make me aware of her attention.
And I can’t forget what Madame Kirsty said ... that Bernice tests people. Especially those she’s met before, so that will include me.
As I hang Madame Bernice’s dresses in the wardrobe, I can’t help comparing what I’m doing to yesterday’s work when I was helping Madame Faye pack. As I packed, I was listening to Madame Faye talk about design, feeling the weight of her attention.
Madame Faye’s presence was sharp and probing; dangerous in a way that made my heart race. Madame Bernice’s presence is different. It’s much heavier; more deliberate. As though she’s measuring me against something I can’t see. Both mistresses push me out of my comfort zone, and both make me feel exposed without being afraid.
When the last suitcase is empty, Madame Bernice steps back and surveys my work.
“Perfect,” she says. “You’re very efficient.”
“Thank you, Madame.”
She smiles. It’s a warm smile, but there’s something behind it. “I’ll be hiring you again soon.”
My pulse jumps. I had expected that would be happening the moment I saw her getting off the bus.
I bow my head. “Of course, Madame.”
“Good girl.”
The words are soft, almost affectionate. But her predatory look is anything but comforting. I leave as soon as she dismisses me, walking quickly across the lawn toward Reception. The wind has picked up again, carrying the smell of damp earth and lake water. I try to shake off the feeling of being watched.
When I step into Reception, Madame Helen looks up immediately.
“Melissa. They want you in the office.”
“They, Madame?” I ask.
She nods toward the closed door. “Nicole. Chloe. And April.”
My breath catches. Madame April is here. That most likely means that something is wrong. I knock softly on the office door and enter.
Madame Nicole sits at the desk, calm and composed as usual. Madame Chloe stands near the window, arms folded, eyes sharp with a worried look she’s trying to hide. And Madame April sits in the chair opposite Madame Nicole, watching me with a steady, unreadable expression.
“Melissa,” Madame April says. “Come in. Close the door.”
My heart pounds. Something is happening. Something important. And I’m not sure I want to find out what it is. The door clicks shut behind me, and the room feels suddenly smaller.
Madame Nicole sits with pen in hand, brow faintly furrowed. She looks puzzled to see me here; not alarmed, just curious. By now she is fully aware that there is something about me she hasn’t been told. She’s too perceptive not to notice my inclusion in decision making that isn’t within the brief of my official role as a general labourer and gardener.
Madame Chloe watches me from her position by the window. Her posture is protective. Her eyes flick to me the moment I enter, checking I’m all right, checking I’m not shaken from Madame Bernice’s hiring. She relaxes only a fraction when I risk a quick smile and nod in her direction.
Madame April sits opposite Nicole, hands folded neatly in her lap. Calm, composed, and impossible to read. She looks like she’s been waiting for me.
“Melissa,” Madame April says. “Thank you for coming. Sit down.”
I obey, taking the chair beside the desk. My heart beats too fast. I don’t know what this meeting is about and I don’t know what they want from me.
Madame Nicole glances at Madame April, then at me. She’s trying to piece together the logic of my inclusion. She can’t because she’s missing an essential part of the logic. Madame April clears her throat.
“Now that peak season is coming to an end,” she begins, “we need to discuss several operational matters. I wanted all three of you present. And Melissa, I want your perspective as well as Chloe’s and Nicole’s views.”
My perspective! That’s new approach from Madame April ... and frightening.
Madame April lifts a folder from the desk.
“First: E4 needs to be closed for maintenance as soon as it can be arranged. The work will take at least three weeks.”
Madame Nicole nods. “Good. The building is overdue for refurbishment.”
Madame Chloe adds, “The closure would ease pressure on the staff roster, enabling more staff to take some leave.”
Madame April continues, “There’s also the option of refurbishing the dungeon in E4 as well. It would add an extra week to the closure.”
Madame Nicole tilts her head. “It would revive interest in using the E4 dungeon. More and more members are preferring to use the dungeon in the Tower. I can’t say that I blame them given the difference in the facilities.”
Madame Chloe agrees. Madame April looks at me. “What do you think, Melissa?”
I swallow. “I think upgrading the E4 dungeon would help, Madame. A lot of the new White cats feel overwhelmed in the Tower dungeon. The E4 dungeon is more intimate, and better suited for first timers and those not into heavy duty games.”
Madame April nods, satisfied before moving onto the next topic.
“Second: I’ve received a proposal from Bernice.”
My stomach tightens. Madame Nicole raises an eyebrow. “Already?”
“It isn’t the first time she’s submitted this proposal. She wants to organise an ‘invitation only’ special event in the Tower.”
Madame Nicole leans back, thoughtful. “We’ve never done invitation only events before. Special events have always been open to all eligible members.”
Madame Chloe’s expression hardens. “Allowing Bernice to host a private event will upset other Black cats. They’ll see it as preferential treatment.”
Madame April sighs. “I know. But she has made formal request and she is offering a generous fee. Her proposal is ambitious, but even if it is only moderately successful, it could be very profitable for the club.”
Madame Nicole asks, “Would it conflict with the E4 maintenance? We could be left with no accommodation for visiting White cats while the northern block remains closed.”