Part 54
I looked at her. "Do you know any ma.s.sage?"
Jane looked completely confused. "No sir."
Sheila piped up from behind Jane. "Master? I do."
"You know ma.s.sage?"
"M-Mayer forced me to take some cla.s.ses when I first started. If you want I can ma.s.sage you."
I nodded and crouched by Sheila. I released her arms, quickly undoing the knots holding her. She sighed and shook out her arms.
"Christ, *I* need a ma.s.sage," she mumbled as she tried to work out the aches in her own arms, stretching.
"Sheila?"
"Yes sir?"
"I want you to give me the best ma.s.sage of your life. I'll let the others free and give them coffee based on how well you perform. Okay?"
She paled a bit. "Wh-what happens if you don't like what I do?"
"Then I guess they go without breakfast and can stay that way for the rest of the day. You'll join them as well."
Jane looked like she was about to say something and thought better of it. She just hung her head, hoping that Sheila was able to satisfy me. She knew that she'd remain hungry and bound all day if that was what I wanted. She was in no position to protest.
I pulled off my shirt and sat down in a chair. Sheila hesitantly walked up behind me and began to work her fingers into my sore muscles. I leaned forward as she worked, her fingers finding all the knots and gently working them out. She was quite good. She eventually sank to her knees in front of me and I looked at her earnest face.
"Is that better? Evan always made me ... suck him ... afterwards. I can do that as well, if you want. Or I can try to work out more. If it will make you let the others go."
I stretched my back. It felt wonderful. It was as though I hadn't slept in that awkward position.
"Sheila, honey, you're hired." I sighed.
The girl looked like she'd just won first prize at the county fair. She beamed from her kneeling position.
"D-does that mean you'll let them go?"
"And give them coffee. They don't even have to drink it black. Go on. Untie them."
Sheila scampered over to Jane on her hands and knees and quickly began to loosen the knots. Soon all the females were thankfully shaking out their arms and sighing as they were released. Jane slowly climbed to her feet and walked over to the coffee machine. She turned to me, "Sir? May I?"
I nodded. Sheila had more than earned them all coffee this morning.
Sheila walked over, still smiling. "Can a slave beg for orange juice instead?"
"As much as you want. Go on."
Sheila practically ran over to the refrigerator and pulled out the pitcher of juice. She poured herself a huge gla.s.s and then walked back over to the table. The others had prepared their coffee and were standing sipping it, watching Christi preparing breakfast and leaning back on the counter. They were all unconsciously trying to straighten tangled hair and work out their various complaining muscles from the awkward night and the bondage.
Sheila sat beside me and spoke quietly.
"Showers?" She ran her hand through her tangled locks.
"After breakfast. I promise."
She nodded.
I spoke towards the three girls by the coffee machine. "Elizabeth?"
She paled a bit, already having been punished for no reason once this morning. Her nipples were still tender to prove it.
"Yes sir?"
"Come here."
"Oh my G.o.d. Please. I haven't done anything."
"Just come here."
The girl walked over in trepidation.
Chapter 105.
"Sit." I ordered her. She sank her nude body into the chair opposite me. She still wore that frightened look, not quite sure what to expect. "How are you feeling this morning?" I gently asked her.
She looked confused at the question, perhaps not expecting a normal request.
"My nipples hurt a bit, if that's what you are asking."
I smiled at her. "Good. They ought to hurt. How's your back?"
She grimaced. "It hurts." She twisted a bit in the chair. "I'll be alright, though." She had slept sitting up, the same as I.
I turned to Sheila. "Sheila? Do you do as good a job on girls as boys?"
She shrugged. "I guess." She rose to her feet and padded over to Elizabeth. Soon Elizabeth was sighing, all her aches and pains disappearing under Sheila's soft hands. When she was done, Elizabeth sat back up straight and smiled up at her.
"Oh G.o.d, that felt good. Thank-you."
Sheila smiled back and kissed Elizabeth's forehead. "You're welcome."
"Alright, all of you. On the floor."
All the women dropped whatever they were doing and gathered in a line on the floor. I stopped Christi before she knelt, motioning her back to her cooking tasks. She could listen from there.
"Everyone except Christi gets to eat on the floor today." There was a bit of a murmur from the girls, but they remained quiet. They knew better than to complain about direct orders. If they even got breakfast, they knew they'd probably end up bound for it, if they complained. "It isn't a punishment, I just want to watch you eat from there. You can get your food from the table without asking. Understand?"
They didn't understand why, but they understood their orders. They all nodded. Christi walked over carrying a huge plate of pancakes. She dropped them onto the middle of the table and looked at me.
"I can sit at the table?" she asked meekly. I nodded to her and watched as she settled her gorgeous bare body into the chair opposite me. "Why?" she whispered.
"Because you cooked. And those look delicious," I grabbed myself a plate of the pancakes. She tentatively reached out to take her own. Her eyes were a bit frightened, not sure why she was the only one given a chair, feeling a little awkward to be put into a special position. She almost looked like she'd prefer to be kneeling on the floor with the others. She carefully pulled a couple of pancakes from the serving plate and waited. The other girls were looking up expectantly from the floor. I nodded to them and one at a time, they rose and carefully carried a plate and their food back to their kneeling positions. After the girls were settled, I poured some syrup onto my food and began to eat.
I heard a small voice, Jane's, speak from the floor.
"Sir?"
I looked down at her small body, kneeling. Her face looked up at me. "Can we eat as well? Please?"
"Of course, eat. It's excellent." I'd forgotten that at breakfast their tradition was to seek permission to eat. I still wasn't completely used to their submission, even though I'd been the cause of it.
Amy spoke up quietly. "Please sir. I know that we maybe don't deserve it, though I can't imagine why, but can we have syrup as well? Please?"
I smiled. I had been waiting for one of them to ask. I rose from my seat with the jug of syrup and crouched by Amy.
"I could have gotten it myself ..." she spoke quietly.
"You sure you want it?"
Her face was a mask of uncertainty. "What am I going to have to do to get it?" she asked.
"Nothing." I smiled at her evilly. She was completely unsure what I had in mind, just that she wasn't likely to enjoy it.
She nodded, probably sorry that she'd been the one to ask the innocent question. But knowing that it was probably far too late to change her mind.
"Lean back."
"Lean back? Why? Please." She extended her hands behind her and leaned her bare body back, thrusting out her chest as she was forced into the awkward position.
I carefully poured a line of syrup across the top of her chest. She cried out as the cold liquid hit her bare skin, but she endured it.
"Sit up." I ordered her. The sticky liquid began to flow down her body, slowly dripping down her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, coating them. She shivered as the liquid slowly dripped down.
She crunched up her face and spoke. "I. I sort of meant more for my pancakes." She couldn't quite keep a straight face.
I carefully lifted the jug and poured the liquid into her tangled blonde hair. She sharply moved back, not expecting me to do that, her eyes opened wide. Her quick movement caused me to spill a little onto her thighs and onto the floor. She gasped.
"Amy?"
"Oh G.o.d. I'm sorry. I." She moved herself back into position, knowing complaint or refusal was useless. I'd just tie her down, not give her her breakfast and pour as much syrup over her as I wanted. She would drown in the stuff if I wanted her to.
"Amy? There's some on the floor because of that."
She looked down, confused, at the small puddle of syrup by her left knee.
"Don't you think that you should clean up your mess?"
She looked around, beginning to rise to her feet to get a cloth. I touched her shoulder.
"Not that way."
She closed her eyes. She reached down and extended her fingers, intending to wipe it up onto her skin.
"No fingers."
She looked at me, finally realizing how she was going to have to do it.
"Please? Don't make me do this. Please? I. I don't want to."
"Amy."
"Oh s.h.i.t. Alright."
She carefully got to her hands and knees and bent her head. She tried to keep her hair out of the way, but wasn't too successful as she bent her head and carefully licked the small puddle from the floor. The syrup was slowly dripping from her hair and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s onto the floor. She could be at this all day if I wanted. But I stopped her as she began to move towards one of the drops that had fallen from her body. I'd humiliated her enough.
"Knees."
She looked up thankfully and returned to her knees, kneeling in the syrup drips, but not really caring at this point, as long as I wasn't forcing her to clean the floor with her tongue.
She swallowed and stayed still as I finished pouring syrup over her head. The sticky substance coated her hair, ran down her face, and mixed with her tears. Her sticky hair stuck to her shoulders and her bare back.
"Would you like some on your plate as well?"
She swallowed and closed her eyes. "You aren't going to fill my p.u.s.s.y if I say yes?"
"If I was going to, you can't do much about it."
She took a breath. "This slave would like some syrup on her breakfast. Please?" she begged. If she had to be humiliated, at least she wanted something out of it.
I smiled at her and poured a liberal amount over her pancakes.
"Why didn't you say so?" I teased her.
"Oh G.o.d. You b.a.s.t.a.r.d." But she was smiling now as well, realizing that syrup washed off. Not like she was ruining her clothes or anything. This was mild torment compared to other things I'd put her through. "At least I don't have to worry about getting my fingers sticky."
I moved over to Elizabeth.
"You want syrup as well?"
"Do I have a choice?"
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