They ascended the narrow stairs, The Girl bringing up the rear. There was no handrail. Min turned back to find her crutches. The Girl had them already and, beaming, pushed Min forward, placing her arm under Min’s and around her chest, took some of her weight. Together they crabbed up the short flight of stairs. The girl, thoughtfully rolled one of Min’s long, thick, rosy nipples between her thumb and forefinger. “Bet you are very proud of those,” she said. Min mumbled her thanks as they emerged into the light of the house’s entrance hall.
In front of them the corridor widened into a Victorian tiled vestibule, mostly black and white but with a coat of arms set into the centre. To the left were uncurtained, tall windows either side of a double front door. A second row of identical windows ran above the entrance. Even in the dark, the outside world’s ability to look in impressed the naked women. A huge chandelier blazed above their heads and the corridor to their right was dramatically lit by rows of sconces set into the panelled Wedgwood blue walls. Turning, the women could see the hallway extended the full depth of the building. A wide, formal uncarpeted oak staircase with an ornate sweeping balustrade led to a gallery and upper rooms.
The girl led them through a door into an inner hall and along an oak boarded floor to a door on their left. They entered a long room with walls painted a light olive-green. In the centre of the room a long table, covered in a pure , starched white linen cloth, stood upon a large oriental carpet. The table had 12 heavy chairs, the wood dark with age. All had red leather seats. Only one place was set, at the end, where a very large, plain white oval plate lay slightly to one side of a carver chair with one set of cutlery placed to the side of the chair immediately to the left.
Looking beyond the table to the opposite end of the room they saw a long oak sideboard topped with covered platters and tureens, a tray of decanters, stacks of smaller plates and an enormous crystal bowl of fruit.
The room was tall and the outside wall was pierced with six equally spaced tall windows made up of small, square, leaded panes. There were heavy damask curtains, extending from floor almost to the plaster coving of the ceiling, but these were undrawn.
A log fire crackled in a large, decorative plaster fireplace set into the centre of the inside wall of the room. This room was less brightly lit than the hall had been and the flame’s reflections danced in the panes of the windows opposite. The wall was patterned with paintings of all shapes and sizes, framed to suit the art work and not the decor. Each was a landscape. Each featured a castle.
Four of the chairs were slightly drawn back from the table. on each seat was a white canvas bag, closed with a red ribbon. Each had a luggage tag. The tags were labelled 1,2, 3 and 5.
“Please stand gracefully to the right of your chair,” required the girl.
The man entered the room. He now wore a plain black evening jacket, dress shirt and black tie. He looked dapper, though bulging pockets rather spoilt the cut of the suit. “Good evening and welcome” he said, sitting in the chair at the end of the table”.
“This is how we live,” said The girl. “We are doing nothing special or different because you are here. Or rather, because you are here we are doing nothing special or different. We want you to know what we expect if you become part of our family, for a time at least”.
“Please unpack your bag. It has gifts for you that you will take with you when you return home. Place the boxes on the table in front of you and the shoes on the floor beside you.”
“Five, in view of your injury there are no shoes for you,” said the man”.
The women did as instructed. Each bag contained a black and a red box and a pair of black patent stiletto-heeled court shoes.
The man looked down the table. “Well done One” he said. The others looked at the tall girl but could see nothing to praise. “Of all of you'” the man continued. “One has placed her boxes most neatly and precisely. Whilst you are here, every act you perform should reflect well on you. it should be done with diligence, grace and elegance. The smallest of things matter here”.
“Please put on your shoes,” Instructed The girl. “One first”. The girls saw that the man was watching intently as, in turn, each of them slipped on their new heels. One and Three just stepped into theirs. Two pulled her chair further back from the table, sat, crossed her legs and carefully pulled on a shoe, demonstratively recrossing her legs to don its sister. She stood, put her chair back into position and stood behind it, hands crossed behind her back and eyes on the floor.
Five just coloured. She felt excluded and shamed. Looking around the room she saw a transformation. The other women now appeared almost identical in height. She looked down. One’s shoes were kitten heels, lifting her hardly at all. Compared to the way the others’ shoes lifted their buttocks the elegant, svelte One now looked just a little dumpy, even though she was still, by a short hair, the tallest in the room. Two stood confidently on three-inch heels. Three tottered on even higher shoes, which also had a low platform sole.
“Before you eat you will serve” said the man. “But before you serve we will help you do so with elegance and grace. Remember – you are always at liberty to refuse anything I ask of you. Just say no if you don’t consent. Otherwise, I shall assume that you do”.
“Let me show you how I help my girl to move in the way I like.” He beckoned to The Girl who walked over to the table and bent over it, lying flat across it, her breasts pressed to the tabletop and her arms stretched out at right angles, stretched and straining as far as her fingertips could reach. She had put on red court shoes, but, despite the higher heel, still had to raise herself on tiptoe to assume the position.
The man took a small black box from one jacket pocket. He lifted the lid and raised it to show the women. It contained a small, shiny, curved object resting against the box’s scarlet silk lining. He lifted it out. and hefted it, the girls could see it was heavy. It had a bulb at one end that flowed into a narrow, curved, neck about three inches long. The object finished in a wide “D” shaped handle. He held it up. “Who knows what this is?”
The women looked. Two opened her mouth to speak, thought better of it and put her hand up. So did Three – and then Five.
“Anyone used one?” Two kept her hand up.
“It’s regular wear around here,” said the man. “In fact, if you are required to come to us at any point you should be wearing this, your shoes and our other little present. To forget is to fail. As with anything asked of you by me”.
He spat on the end of the little butt-plug and placed a finger on the small of The Girl’s back. She pushed her arms back and pulled her buttocks apart. He moistened his finger in his mouth, rubbed a little of the spittle against her anus and then pushed the stainless steel plug in, unhurriedly, until the D-shaped handle nestled against her hole. He took his finger from her back, she released her buttocks and the plug disappeared from view.
He took a red box from his other pocket as The girl rose from the table. She turned and her back to the table, raised herself onto its top. She lay back again and raised her legs in a high wide “V”. She pointed her toes and grasped her breasts mounding them with her hands.
He opened the box. Inside were two stainless steel balls. A cord ran through them, ending in a loop at one end.
He felt The girl. “Moist enough”. He shook the balls. They jingled softly. He addressed the women: “The more elegantly you move,” he said “the less noise you will make”.
He slipped his hand into the girl and twisted it gently, opening her. he removed his hand and replaced it with the first ball, pushing it’s fellow swiftly in behind it. The loop of cord was all that could be seen. He stroked her leg and The Girl stood up and shuffled off the table childishly. She stood and positioned herself behind the chair next to the man. He looked at her, a little quizzically. “If you want elegance”, she said “don’t use a table-cloth. Too much friction”. He smiled. She tossed her hair and snorted. He frowned.
“The Girl will now fill each of you. You know what to do. If you don’t consent to this just remain standing”.
All four stepped forward. Three of them leant down onto the table. The last, One, raised her hand. He nodded. “Please sir, nothing has been in there before..”
“But plenty has come out,”he said “It’s no worse than that”.
One bent too.
“Anyway” said The Girl, “Unlike me, you get lubed”.
The Girl took a silver tray from the left hand end of the sideboard. She removed the white, starched napkin that had covered the tray’s contents: on it were a small bottle of lubricant, a pack of wet-wipes, a pile of latex gloves, a black marker pen and a silver dish. She carried the tray to where One stood.
The girl put the tray on the table and put on a latex glove, snapping the wrist band loudly. She lubed the forefinger of her right hand. “Finger first” she said to One and placed the forefinger of her other hand on One’s back. One held her buttocks as far apart as she could, finding it was a real effort to stay still and flat on the table.
The girl pushed her lubed finger against One’s anus and then, without warning, pushed it through the sphincter. One grunted. she felt the finger rotating, then stretching her. One felt a sensation that felt like shitting and not-shitting: Familiar and not familiar. The finger pushed down and One was instantly reminded of how close her anus was to her vagina. The diagram from Grey’s anatomy filled her mind. she lifted her hips in response: She felt her body warm to what was happening. “Still” whispered The Girl. The finger withdrew. She heard The Girl sniff and say “She’s clean”. The finger returned to her back and she stretched her cheeks apart again. She felt something bigger than the finger push against her entrance. It wasn’t just bigger. It was cold. Not comfortably so. She did her best to relax as her plug was pushed firmly home. She felt the t-bar of the handle nestling against her cleft.
The finger left her back and One let go of her buttocks. “Cunt please dear'” said The Girl. One rose and positioned herself as The Girl had.earlier. The thing in her bum felt quite secure. It did not slip or slide as she moved to position herself for the next insertion. She saw the Girl wiping her finger clean, she dropped the wet-wipe into the dish on the tray and pulled on another latex glove.
“Touch yourself, The Girl instructed, “Are you wet or do you need lube?” One put her hand between her legs and allowed the tip of a single, French-manicured finger to rub over her clitty, lightly tracing a tight oval. The Girl slapped her hand. “Touch yourself – not play with yourself. All that is needed is to know if you are wet”.
“I’m wet… err” One hesitated.
“I’m wet… girl” prompted the other: “Are you sure? You haven’t actually checked.”
“I’m sure Girl”.
The Girl opened One’s red box and took out her set of balls. She ran a latex covered finger between One’s neat, tiny labia, hardly visible beneath the thick, curly, springy, dark brown pubic hair. The girl moved her finger from side to side, opening One.
One felt the first cold ball pushed against her. This was a welcoming, familiar feeling. She relaxed as The girl pushed both balls snuggly into her and smiled in thanks. She stood. Confident. She’d been doing Kegels for years and knew exactly how to hold her new friends in. But being full behind, and with something rigid and unyielding, changed the feeling completely. She rocked slightly forward and back and then side to side and felt the balls moving against the curved rod in her behind. She smiled to herself and at The Girl – and then at the man. She could get used to this. He smiled back. She tried a twerk, just to see what she could do to herself. He frowned. She stopped. The Girl giggled.
The Girl moved to Two, who was swiftly plugged behind and then filled in front. She stood, nervously, her thighs tight together.
Three raised her hips to accept The girl’s finger, which was withdrawn and sniffed. “Dirty'” said the girl. “Five demerits “said the man.
“But, hey, I can’t help that” yelped Three. “You can” said the man “My girl showed you all how I believe. There’s no excuse.
“Five demerits” he repeated. the girl took the felt tip pen and marked Three’s buttock with four vertical lines, crossed with a fifth horizontal one. The girl filled Three.
It was Five’s turn. She didn’t need lube. but she didn’t say. So many objects and so many cocks had been up her arse. that this was easy. It was also, she though, disgusting. Being taken up the shitter had always been about hurting her; about making sure she felt quite worthless. But The Girl was gentle: Five wasn’t used to that. In went the cold steel, slowly and with a firm, determined gentleness. “Comfy?” she was asked. She’d never thought of this as being anything to do with comfort.
The man was speaking: “We are doing this because it works for my girl and we hope it will work for you too. It’s not about making you feel submissive, or humiliated. It is a reminder that your primary purpose is to be a sexual being even when you are serving here, or, let’s say, gardening or doing the dishes.
“Its my way of providing you with a constant reminder of your purpose, which is to enhance my girl’s and my life by being decorative, decorous, graceful playthings. If this purpose pleases you, you may be happy here”.
Five turned to accept her Ben-wa balls and saw The Girl smiling down at her without a trace of contempt or loathing “Good girl”, she whispered to Five. The balls went in easily. She arched her hips experimentally, hoping not to be noticed. She felt full. She felt exalted. Special. She couldn’t help grinning as she resumed her place beside her chair.
Last: 13 – Five speaks
Next: 15: Service
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