Between their innate perceptions and the hidden cameras throughout the mansion, there was very little that escaped the Masters of the Mansion.
Master Richard Baron
Richard sat with his feet cocked up on his oversized antique desk and chuckled, as he eyed William.
“You are such a Sadist my brother, sending Barbie to bring breakfast to a woman in my bed. I hope she didn’t poison her.” Even though Richard chuckled, he did have to shake off the idea that Barbie could be capable of it.
William tapped his bronze topped cane against the flooring and spoke, “A sub topping from the bottom is bad enough, a slave doing it, is unheard of.”
“I’m still baffled with why you want a vanilla woman, Richard.”
“She won’t be vanilla by the time that I get through with her,” Richard answered.
Both men chuckled as they thought about the irony of the statement—because both men knew that it was true. By the time that Master Richard worked his mojo on Ophelia, she would be anything but vanilla…
Ophelia
I made my way out of the Master suite and set out to explore. I would be inspired by the sights, sounds, smells, and happenings of the mansion; thus good writing would ensue.
I already knew that this bunch was so cloak and dagger that anything that I wrote would have to go through Master Richard Baron’s hands before it ever hit press. But he had hired me to do this job because he liked my style of writing—or I would not be here. My style was gutsy, raw, and real, and to get that kind of inspiration, I needed to see what was going on around here.
Richard had dressed me as I do every day, business attire. I donned a navy blue pantsuit with a button up white shirt and practical heels. Richard had coordinated my clothing right down to the navy blue bra and matching g-string.
I had been left the option on my hair and though I had chosen to leave it tied back, it had a mind of its own and wisps of it fell loose.
I wore glasses and carried a pen and notepad in an enclosed black zippered small attaché type holder that would also hold my phone. For all intents and purposes, I looked like what I was, a ‘journalist’.
I made my way into the sitting room where Master William was in session with two slaves.
I recognized the one from being the girl who had brought my breakfast this morning. Evidently she was distracted by me, though I had instinctively made my way in very quietly and even more so; meekly. She dropped the book from her head that she had been balancing as she walked and the noise of it echoed throughout the large open room as if telling on her; for the dastardly deed of dropping it.
Barbie
William leaned into Barbie’s ear and hissed, “Are you distracted by the fact that the woman that Master Richard Baron is fucking just walked in?”
Immediately she began to sob and Master William felt the hardening in his trousers. This only encouraged his barrage of cruel and cutting words.
“Oh, you poor little thing, I guess that you did not realize when you became a slave that you were not going to be able to pick and choose your Master. What the fuck don’t you get about the word slave? Oh…….I get it….. Because he fucked you after he disciplined you one night you thought he would keep you. You serviced him you dumb bitch, nothing more and nothing less.”
I watched in horror as the girl sobbed. Everything in me wanted to go and comfort her. Everything in me was curious, what the hell could he possibly be saying to that poor girl to humiliate her so. I would find out soon enough……. I would find out soon enough…
Master Richard Baron
Master Richard sat in his office watching his little Ophelia on the camera monitor. The horrified look on her face told him, that everything in her wanted to go and comfort the slave that William was reprimanding.
Master Richard was well aware that Master William was doing what needed to be done. Barbie had come from a world where she got what she wanted because of her beauty. William was just letting her know her new reality. This was not a game, it was a calling!
Barbie gave up all rights when Masters of the Mansion were issued the slave ownership and registration certificate for her. She made that decision. And now to try and top from the bottom—simply could not and would not be tolerated.
If the Masters of the Mansion allowed things such as this, what kind of message would that send to the other slaves? What kind of message would that send to the hierarchy of Masters in the BDSM community?
No…….Barbie had sealed her own fate. Now she would never service Master Richard Baron again and she would most certainly……….never be his slave.
Richard reached over and spoke into the intercom summoning the slave on duty, “My employee and I will be having lunch in my office. I will need both lunch and my employee brought to me herewith.”