I rose from the bed as if I were in a trance and followed her to the bathroom where she had already run a tub of water for me.
She sat her nude perfect body on a vanity stool that she had pulled over and began to wash my hair. “I can wash my hair,” I yawned.
“No time and Master Baron has already given me his permission.”
I must have looked shocked because she answered, “It is necessary to obtain permission before one touches one of the Master’s guests. Does this not seem appropriate; even for your vanilla culture?”
“So everyone knows that I’m not a slave, what do they think about me sleeping in his bedroom?”
“It is not a slave’s place to speculate—only to obey.”
“I need coffee,” I yawned, too tired to try and wrap my brain around the rules of ‘BDSM 101.’
Ophelia
I was ushered into what appeared to be a ballroom. As soon as we reached the ballroom and Master Richard made his way towards me, slave Selena stepped back and went into the same pose that Barbie had used in the dining room. He took my arm and swept me into the festivities. He leaned in and spoke as we made our way in, “I trust that you will be on your best behavior, Ophelia.”
“Yes, Master Baron.”
“Very well.”
We made our way to the bar where he asked the bartender for a glass of red wine for me and bourbon for him. He then led me to a couch and we were seated.
I crossed my legs and eyed my little Ophelia as I swirled the bourbon in the snifter. “You are going to see a lot of things tonight, Ophelia—things that you have never seen before. Regardless of what appears to be going on, you are not to get involved. I can’t stress this enough, do you understand me?” I have appointed ‘slave Selena’ to watch over you for the duration of your stay here at the mansion.”
“I don’t have much longer here. I’ll be done with my article soon. I am thinking two, or three days, tops.” Richard set his bourbon down and leaned in, and over towards me. “That remains to be seen, Ophelia.”
He leaned back pulling at his suit coat and moving his neck as if he was frustrated about something. I never could read him and I damn sure wasn’t going to try to now.
“Finish that wine—we are taking a walk.”
He pulled me along almost as if he was frustrated. I struggled to keep up. We walked until we stood in front of a St Andrews church cross and I stood intently watching as a man in black leather wielded a whip. He literally mastered it, as he marked patterns across the back of his slave.
I watched my little Ophelia as she stood intrigued with Master Atticus and his slave. I had expected her to be horrified. She was not horrified—she was intrigued. It was one of the things that I liked about her; she had an innate curiosity to understand, not just one thing—but anything that she was writing about. I would make sure that her intrigue stayed directed where I saw fit.
“Master Baron your room is ready.” A male slave approached and informed me.
“Come Ophelia, it is time to go.”
I followed beside Richard assuming that we were going to another section for more research.
I would soon see—that was not the case.
I was led into what looked like a Dr’s office and I began to panic. “Wha, what are we doing here Richard?”
I approached my little Ophelia backing her into the exam table, until she could do nothing but sit.
“Shhh, don’t call me ‘Richard.’”
“We’re not in a bedroom or in front of anyone, Richard.”
I popped her tits over her corset leather dress and began suckling at one of them.
“I am going to fuck you on an exam table.”
I jerked her head back staring into her face, “Now be a good girl and slide your little ass up on that table and put your feet in the stirrups.”
I jerked her head back and spoke through clenched teeth, “If you call me Richard again, I’m going to take you out into the ballroom and use you in front of everyone attending my little soiree.”
I almost had to laugh at the shock on her face as her mouth dropped open and she almost kicked me swinging her legs around to put them in the stirrups.
“That’s better,” I spoke, as I unhooked her shoes and she placed them in the stirrups.
I made my way to the head of the table as I fingered the zip ties in my pocket. I bent down sucking on a tit and listening as little squeaks, began to escape her mouth.
I looked up to view a tear roll down her cheek as I stood looking down on her.
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
I felt a tinge of guilt about what I was getting ready to do but it had to be done. I licked the tear from her face and commented “Here,” as I grabbed a blindfold mask and placed around her eyes.