Chapter 3: Meetings

"Come on, Darling, or we shall be late." She shuddered a little at the word late; the time was ten minutes to ten.

I stood for a moment and looked at her. I was amazed at the transformation; this was a Serena I had never seen before; she glowed. As she moved I could hear tiny bell-like sounds. I looked for the source and found tiny bells hanging from the rings in her nipples. She was still wearing the chain attached to the ring above her clitoris and attached to that was yet another tiny bell. The chain swung from side to side as she walked, causing a catch in her breath each time it brushed against her. She caught sight of the direction of my gaze.

"Another standing order, I presume?"

She nodded and blushed, as she looked downcast. I looked at the clock. "It's only just past ten to ten, the car won't be here for ages yet."

"I have to be outside waiting for at least five minutes before the car is due to arrive. It won't come until 10 o'clock or five minutes after I start waiting, whichever is later. I get 10 strokes for every minute after 10 that the car is late."

She said this in a monotone still looking at the floor. I put my fingers under her chin and raised her head so she looked at me. "I've been doing some thinking. When I fell in love with you, all this was part of you then. I can't bitch about it now that it's all in the open. I still love you and I still want to marry you. I'm not strong enough to be happy without you, so don't worry, we'll work something out."

I must have been the right thing to say, because she smiled like a super-nova and kissed me as passionately as she had ever kissed me. Then she saw the clock.

"Oh God! Come on!" She grabbed a coat and slipped it on as she did the same with her shoes. The house keys went in her pocket and we scurried out of the front door and ran to the bottom of the drive. I looked at my watch 9:54, I showed it to her and she smiled at me gratefully. We waited silently, hand in hand. I passed the time composing letters to an imaginary agony aunt. 'Dear Deirdre I've just discovered that my fiancée is another man's pleasure slave. What should I do? Yours sincerely, Confused of Coventry'

'Dear Confused... ' This was as far as I got as I was distracted by the arrival of a dark blue limousine. The car was silent apart from the crackle of the tyres on the loose gravel at the side of the road. As we waited, a tall chauffeuse stepped from the car and opened the rear passenger door for us. Before I could say anything, Serena slipped off her coat and shoes and indicated that I should get into the car before her. I was about to balk when I realised that the longer I messed about, the longer she would be outside, naked. Serena handed her clothing to the chauffeuse, followed me into the car and knelt on the floor with her back to the door and her hands resting on the back of her neck. She spread her knees as widely as she could and waited patiently for the chauffeuse to close the door behind her.

The door closed with that sound that only really expensive cars can make. I wondered if there was a research and development department devoted to ensuring that the doors of expensive cars didn't make the same sound as cheaper models. I held out my hand to Serena and stroked her arm. She smiled at me, grateful for the contact. The car started away, I gave the chauffeuse full marks; the only way that I could tell that we were moving was the fact that the scenery outside the window was in motion too. It was all so unreal.

"How long is the journey?"

My voice sounded shockingly loud in the hushed surroundings of the limousine.

"There's some congestion on the by-pass, but we should be at the estate in a little under 20 minutes, sir." The unfamiliar voice of the chauffeuse sounded from a hidden speaker above the glass screen that separated the front of the limousine from the passenger compartment. I looked a question at Serena; she shook her head quickly and pursed her lips.

"Slaves are not permitted to speak in the car, except with the express permission of the Master, sir."

"Thank you."

"You are welcome, sir"

We drove in silence for the rest of the journey. Occasionally, even the superb suspension was no match for the depredations of the local road surface and these bumps were greeted by the tinkling of the tiny bells attached to Serena.

Outside the car, the urban landscape gave way to the gently rolling greenness of the English countryside that only Ireland can surpass. I wondered at the words of the chauffeuse 'the estate'. I supposed, had I thought about it, that one would need a certain amount of privacy if one were keeping naked slaves about one's house. I reflected, ruefully, that it wasn't a subject to which I'd given much thought.

I looked at Serena; the routine of the journey seemed to have had a calming effect on her. She had said that she made this journey, or one like it, at least once or twice a month. I wondered what she was feeling. She must have felt the weight of my gaze, for she looked up and smiled reassuringly at me. It made me feel both better and worse at the same time. Here I was, starting to wallow in self-pity when she, who was headed for who-knows-what in ten minutes time, naked and wearing his chains, still took time to try and reassure me. I took a deep breath and resolved to do better. I smiled back at her and mouthed the words 'I love you'. I saw a tear roll from her eye and I leant forward to capture it on my fingertip. I placed it on my tongue; I expected a salty taste, but in fact I tasted nothing.

"We are just entering the estate now, sir." The chauffeuse interrupted the fugue state into which the journey had swept me. I looked out of the window of the limousine and glimpsed the pillars of an enormous gate as we swept through it. I turned in my seat and looked back through the rear window to see the ornate, cast-iron gates sliding shut behind us. Serena knelt impassively as our journey neared its end.

The drive meandered through the manicured grounds of the estate. As hard as I tried, I could not tell where the grounds ended and the rest of the countryside began. As we negotiated a curve I could see an imposing Palladian-style mansion. It looked like we had a reception committee.

The car swept impressively to a nearly imperceptible halt and the chauffeuse opened the door on my side to let me disembark. I stood with my back to the car and stretched as I gazed out over the glorious view that the house commanded. I turned to greet the two people who were standing, silently waiting. By then however, the chauffeuse was blocking my view as she opened the door for Serena, so I started to walk around the car to introduce myself to them.

Rounding the final corner of the car, I stopped -- struck by the fact that both of our 'committee' were nude. Serena had left the car and was greeting them both enthusiastically with hugs and kisses. Having thoroughly kissed and hugged them both, Serena knelt at the feet of the woman and waited with her neck extended and her head bent submissively forward. Taking the leather strap that she was holding in her hand, the woman looped it around Serena's neck and buckled it closed, checking that the fit was snug, but not constricting. When she finished doing this, she looked up see me watching this tableaux. It was then that I realised the woman was almost a clone of Serena! I chided myself - given their obvious age difference; Serena was almost a clone of the woman, whom I surmised to be her mother. I turned my gaze to the man; I supposed that this was her father.

The departure of the car in a flurry of crackling gravel made us all jump. Seemingly of their own volition our eyes tracked the departing limousine as it rolled all but silently away. The chauffeuse was still in possession of Serena's coat, and hence her house keys and I speculated idly about getting them back. I shook myself angrily. I could see that I was attempting to withdraw from the situation; concentrating on trivia was a symptom. Serena deserved better than this. I turned once more to face Serena's parents, but before any of us could exchange greetings, Serena's parents knelt gracefully and I turned to see a tall, very black-skinned man walking towards us from the direction of the gardens. He smiled warmly. I gathered from the behaviour of Serena, and the people that I presumed to be her parents, that this was the mysterious 'Master'.

"Welcome. Welcome to my humble abode." I recognised the urbane tones from the 'phone conversation last night that this was, indeed he. The three people kneeling in front of me, straightened their posture on his approach and widened their knees still further in small increments. Both of the women had by now placed their hands behind their head, the man simply clasped his hands behind him. This posture ensured that their entire bodies were on display. I felt a terrible pang of jealousy that Serena was exposing herself to him, but I couldn't see what I could do about it. I balled my fists in frustration.

Jack, I refused to think of him as 'the Master', turned to his slaves. "Sofia, congratulations, I'm so happy for you." He stroked her hair proprietarily; once more I felt the urge to strike out; how dare he touch her! Then after bestowing a kiss on the top of her head, causing her to wriggle with happiness and me to squirm in suppressed rage, he dismissed them. They rose gracefully to their feet and then Serena was led away. As she left, she turned and gave me a reassuring smile - this time it was her turn to mouth the words 'I love you' to me. I felt myself relax and I let out the breath that I didn't know I had been holding with an explosive sigh.

"It's not as bad as you think, old chap. Come with me and we will talk. Sofia has told me a lot about you but that isn't the same as two fellows sitting over a drink and talking. Eh?"

We walked towards the house; I followed because there was nothing else I could do. My thoughts were in turmoil. Who was he? What sort of hold did he have over Serena and her family? What sorts of things did she do with him? She'd said she was a virgin, but was that true? Did she suck him off? Did he eat her out? Visions of Serena writhing in blissful pleasure as he thrust his long black fingers into her smoothly shaven pussy tormented me. Then I realised, to my everlasting shame, I found the visions arousing - oh Christ I didn't deserve her! What sort of bastard was I to get turned on by the thought of someone else making my fiancée cum? I felt wetness on my cheeks and I realised that I was crying. I stopped and held my head in my hands and sobbed.

Jack turned to watch me. Finally he spoke. "David old chap, the things that you must be imagining are far worse that the reality, let me reassure you of that."

"How the hell do you know what I'm thinking?"

"I think that it must be the sort of things that any reasonable chap would be thinking when presented with the facts that you have been presented with."

I stared at him. "I suppose..." I said sulkily

"Before we carry on to the library, perhaps I can put your mind at rest about one thing at least: I have never had any sort of physical sexual contact with Sofia, nor do I have any plans to. You see, I consider her to be more my daughter rather than my slave."

However shocking the revelation of his feelings toward Serena, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders and the blackness that had threatened to engulf me receded somewhat. Before I could continue the conversation however, he ushered me forward.

"The library is the next door on the right and is a far more congenial venue for what will obviously be a very difficult conversation for you." He paused and reflected, "And for me, for that matter." On that note, Jack continued walking towards the door that he had indicated as being that of the library.

The heavy wooden door swung silently aside and Jack motioned for me to precede him into the library. Inside was a traditional gentleman's library for this type of house. Shelves lined the room from floor to ceiling. Ladders on rails were spaced at intervals around the room to enable the books on the higher shelves to be reached. I turned as the door was closed behind me. As I expected the door was lined with fake book spines so that it blended into the bookcase that surrounded the door itself. Even though the weather outside was warm, a real fire crackled comfortingly in the grate. The occasional hiss as pockets of gas in the coal were ignited was loud in the studied silence of the room.