Enslaved (6 page)

'No, you ... you were just about to. See to the door, and I'll fill the kettle,' Jill smiled nervously, guiltily.

'Okay, I won't be a minute,' Marianne replied as she left the room, her sex-duct oozing with her vaginal come, her mind tortured with guilt.

Opening the door, Marianne was stunned to find Barry standing on the step. 'I forgot my bloody briefcase!' he complained, holding his head. He looked older in his anguish, drained of life - unlike the youthful Jill. 'My door

key, papers, bloody everything's in my briefcase!'

'Oh, no! You've got a head like a sieve!' Marianne laughed nervously, imagining him arriving to find Jill vibrating her clitoris to orgasm - or John screwing her from behind! 'I'm just having a coffee with Jill, do you want one?'

⁴
Yes, I might as well, now that I'm here. God, Saunders is going to string me up by my balls for this! Oh, by the way, Brooke-Smith is coming to dinner this evening.'

⁴
What? Why the hell didn't you tell me?'

'Because I've only just found out myself! Saunders rang me on my mobile, wanting to know where the hell I'd got to, among other things. Anyway, he suggested that, to keep my client, sweet, I invite him to dinner.'

'Couldn't Saunders have invited him to dinner?'

'No, I've been dealing with Brooke-Smith for the last year. He's
my
client so it's all down to me, I'm afraid.'

'Oh, that's great! I've nothing in, Barry!'

'Then go shopping! You've got all bloody day! Christ knows, you do sod-all every day!'

'I don't have work at the moment, do I? Anyway, calm down and come into the kitchen and Til make the coffee.'

Frowning at Jill, Barry sat at the table and sighed. 'God, life stinks at times!' he complained.

'Life's wonderful!' Jill beamed, the taste of Marianne's love-juices lingering on her tongue, her thoughts on the next session of lesbian lust with her pretty slave.

'Is it?' Barry returned, rubbing his forehead.

'What you need is a housekeeper - someone to do the shopping, the household chores. It would leave you both free to get on with more important things - don't you agree, Marianne?' Jill goaded. 'You need a slave, someone who will do this and that, someone who will follow orders and. ..'

'Oh, what a bloody good idea!' Marianne interrupted. 'Who do you suggest we employ as a slave?'

'I don't know. Perhaps you have an idea, Barry?'

'Oh yes, I know plenty of slaves! The slave trade is booming at the moment! What the hell are you talking about, Jill? A slave? This is nineteen-ninety—'

'I was only joking, Barry! Anyway, I'll leave you two love birds to have a row. I'll ring you, Marianne. It was nice ... Er.. . I'll come again! I'll see myself out.'

Barry groaned despondently as Jill left the room and closed the front door behind her. 'Bloody stupid lesbian! A slave, for Christ's sake!'

Lesbian! God, what have I done?
'She was only joking, Barry!' Marianne returned as she placed his coffee cup on the table, aware of her vaginal lips swelling, her clitoris calling for attention again.

'Yes, I know but... Juxtaposition.'

Marianne stood still, praying that Barry wouldn't demand sex as she felt her panties moistening, absorbing her slippery love juices. Staring blankly across the room, she anxiously awaited her master's instructions.

'I want a good spread this evening!' Barry ordered the girl. 'You'll wear that tight black dress you bought - you know, the one that you said was far too short. Red stilettos, hold-up stockings, no bra ... I want to impress Brooke-Smith, not only with you coming up with a bloody good meal, but... You'll flirt with him, do you understand? You'll give the dirty old bugger the come-on. I'll leave the room for a while, and you'll flash your tight knickers, pull them aside and show him a bit of cunt lip. I need this contract, Marianne! You're my slave, you're my key - and you'll help me get it if you have to open your legs and fuck the old fart! This hypnosis thing is going to work well for me, I can see that. What with you being under my control, it's going to bring me all I ever wanted - contracts, money... Right, I must hurry! Now, wake up!'

Her hands trembling, Marianne gazed out of the kitchen window, wondering what sort of man Barry really was.
Flash your knickers. Show him a bit of cunt lip. Fuck the old fart.
Was this contract worth more than her? Would he really use her body as some sort of commodity to get his bloody contract?

'You all right, love?' Barry asked, his voice now gentle, soft, loving.

Bastard!

'Don't worry too much about tonight, I'm sure you'll play the part of a hostess extremely well!'

Play your bloody slave extremely well!
'Are you, Barry? What makes you so sure? What if I fuck up?'

'Of course you won't! All you have to do is prepare a nice meal and smile at the old bugger. Everything will be fine, you'll see. Shit, there goes my bloody mobile! If it's Saunders, I'll. . .'

As Barry answered his phone and did his yes sir, no sir act, Marianne pondered on his hurtful words.
Open your legs and fuck the old fart.
Her mind aching, she couldn't believe what he was proposing she do to help him.
I mean nothing to him,
she reflected sadly.
All he's interested in is his contract and making bloody money!
As Barry slipped his phone into his jacket pocket and made for the door, Marianne couldn't face him. Stunned, all she could do was gaze out of the window.

'See you this evening, love!' he called as he left the room. 'We'll get here around seven!' he added, closing the front door. Where was the love? she wondered. What had happened to the love and affection? Gone!

John didn't turn up, much to Marianne's relief - no, her disappointment. Spending most of the day wondering about Barry and Jill, her mind became awash with confusion. The last thing she could do was go shopping and then prepare a banquet for Barry and his bloody client!

Her thoughts continually swirled around Jill, the pretty teenage lesbian. The intimacy, the previously unknown closeness, had been nice. Somehow, being another female, there had been a gentleness, a lovingness that Marianne had never experienced before. Barry had always been soft and gentle with her, but in a manly way. Jill's intimate attention, her feminine fingers, her feminine tongue, had felt so right.
I'm not a bloody lesbian!
Marianne desperately tried to convince herself.
Christ, this hypnosis thing is fucking me up!

As the afternoon wore on, Marianne began to realize the implications of her dangerous game. Barry was obviously out to use her for whatever he could get. Jill wanted rampant lesbian sex sessions, and John . . . This was like a bad dream, she reflected, wondering how one evening could change her life, turn everything upside down. Within a few hours of returning home from the course, her life had changed dramatically!

I'll beat the bastard at his own game!
she decided as she slipped into her tight black dress - knickerless and braless. Flattening the silky material over her smooth stomach with her palms, she felt a pang of arousal snake its way through her pelvis.
Use me, would you? I'll bloody well teach you a thing or two - you fucking bastard!

Rolling her hold-up stockings up her long legs and slipping her red stilettos on, she decided that she'd follow Barry's instructions to the letter.
A bit of cunt lip!
she smiled inwardly.
I'll show the old pervert more than a bit of cunt lip!

Her long golden locks shining, her make-up impeccable, the dining room table laid, she waited for the Indian takeaway to arrive by taxi. Her plan formulating well, she grinned, imagining Barry leaving her alone with his client for a while.
Flirt with him. Give the dirty old bugger the come-on.
Barry's words swirled in her mind as she imagined bending over, her taut buttocks on display, her pouting vaginal lips swelling invitingly below her bottom-crease.

She was driven by a terrifying thirst for revenge now. Barry's words had hurt her deeply, they'd stirred emotions -scorn, hatred.
I'll teach you a lesson - you fucking bastard!

Barry's key in the front door lock sent a shiver up Marianne's spine. Her stomach churned, her heart raced. I
can't go through with it!
she decided, wondering what had happened to the old Marianne - the old Barry! Leaping to her feet as Barry entered the room and introduced Brooke-Smith, she smiled amicably, tugging her dress down to conceal her knickerless pussy.

'Pleased to meet you, Mr Brooke-Smith. Would you like a drink?' she offered.

'Please, call me Jonathan,' the middle-aged man grinned, eyeing the long nipples pressing through her tight black dress. 'Scotch and water, please,' he added, perching himself on the arm of the sofa.

'If you'll excuse me for a moment?' Barry said, catching Marianne's eyes. 'I have a phone call to make.'

Marianne sensed Jonathan's amorous gaze on her shapely thighs as she stood with her feet apart and bent over to take the glasses from the cabinet. Suddenly mustering up the courage, her long legs straight, she bent over further, praying that he'd spy her full vaginal lips nestling between her unblemished thighs.

What the hell am I doing?
she wondered as her guilt, her shame stabbed her conscience. Displaying the most intimate part of her young body to Barry's client was despicable! Her mind racked with confusion again, her heart racing, her clitoris stirring, revenge loomed.
Barry s a complete bastard!

'You've a nice place,' Jonathan remarked. Marianne's stomach somersaulted as she took a deep breath and almost touched her toes, exhibiting her full womanly glory to the client's wide eyes. 'Very nice, indeed!'

'Yes, we like it,' she replied, standing up and pouring the whisky. Smiling, she turned and passed him a drink.

'Barry's a very lucky man!' he enthused, eyeing her shapely thighs.

'It's not that nice!' she laughed. 'We'd like a bigger place really, but...'

'No, I meant that Barry's a lucky man to have you.'

Her arousal, and her annoyance with Barry, increasing, Marianne decided to play the game to the limit.
Might as well go for it!
she thought wickedly, sitting in the armchair with her legs parted, her naked pussy-crack smiling between her firm thighs.

She didn't like Brooke-Smith - she sensed an air of haughtiness about him which she found belittling. Wearing a pinstriped suit, crisp white shirt and tie, he reminded her of an authoritative boss. But who was in control, who
was
the boss? As he gazed between her naked thighs, she realized the power she had over him. Whatever he was, he was a man, a man who appreciated the female form, she mused as she parted her legs a little further.

'Sorry about that,' Barry apologized as he entered the room. Glancing at Marianne's blatantly exposed naked pussy, his mouth hanging open, he frowned. 'Er. . . how's the meal coming on? Do you ... do you need a hand?' he asked hesitantly, making odd facial expressions that she took to mean that he wanted to speak to her in the kitchen.

Til go and check,' she smiled, rising to her feet, deliberately leaving her dress hoisted up to reveal her beautiful pussy-crack.

Taking the curry from the simmering oven, Marianne concealed a grin as Barry closed the kitchen door and breathed the magical word. She stood still, her expression blank as she awaited his instructions. 'Go and put your panties on!' he ordered her with a hint of anger in his voice. 'When I said
give him the come-on,
I didn't mean . .. Just go and put your bloody panties on, you dozy bitch! Now, wake up.'

Taking the plates from the shelf, Marianne asked Barry how long he thought Brooke-Smith would be staying. 'I don't want him here to the early hours,' she said. 'It's not easy being nice to someone you don't like!'

'He won't stay too long, he's a busy day tomorrow,' Barry replied. 'Here, I'll do that - if you need to go upstairs?' he added, wondering why she hadn't immediately followed his instruction.

Leaving the room, Marianne knew that she'd got one over Barry. Far from her being unable to go through with the plan, it was Barry who couldn't cope with it! Jealousy was his weak point, and she was determined to play on it, she decided as she entered the bedroom, lifting her dress and gazing at her proud vaginal lips reflected in the full-length mirror. 'No, no panties!' she affirmed wickedly. "This is what he wanted me to do, and this is what I'm
going
to do!'

Returning to the kitchen, Marianne bent over to take the naan bread from the oven, deliberately exposing her taut buttocks, her bloated vaginal lips to Barry's wide eyes. She could feel his seething anger, his rising jealousy, as she wantonly exposed the very centre of her femininity.

'Juxtaposition!' he breathed through gritted teeth. Marianne stood up, her dress high over her rounded buttocks, revealing her dark dividing crease.
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Put your bloody panties on, woman!' Barry spat. Til do the food - you go upstairs and put your bloody panties on!'

As he brought her out of her
hypnotic trance
, Marianne grinned inwardly. She was winning the game, beating Barry at his own game - and she was loving every minute of her sweet revenge! 'Will you deal with the food?' she smiled amicably. 'I'm just going upstairs for a minute.'