The training of Ophelia (Masters of the Mansion Series) (5 page)

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 inter
com 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.”

Richard chuckled
as he thought, “There is no since in wasting a perfectly good opportunity for a ‘mind fuck.’”

***

Richard eyed Ophelia, as she sat eating and peering out the window. The two of them were seated at a small round table which gave access to a view of the perfectly manicured lawn.

She was the first woman that Richard had ever given the privilege of dining with him
in here. Though Ophelia was not aware that Richard was doing things that were out of the ordinary, the inhabitants of the mansion were very aware of it.

Rumors and speculation had already begun to swirl. Nobody could wrap their brain around
—what was going on with these two.

In Master Richard Baron’s world,
he made no excuses; nor apologies to anyone, for the actions that he
chose.

Master Richard Baron was the owner and head Master
of the mansion and that was just the way that it was. His employees were paid quite well and that included Master William’s, seven figure annual income.

No one was going to do anything
to threaten their quality of lifestyle. It simply boiled down to one thing: the ‘buck’ if you will—stopped with Master Richard Baron.

“What Richard? You’re staring?”

Richard neatly folded the cloth napkin and set it aside as he began to speak. “Look at me, Ophelia.”

***

I eyed the man that was addressing me and felt my heart rate quicken. I never knew what to expect with this guy.

“You do understa
nd that when we are in public, or in my bed chambers that you are to address me as ‘Master.’

“With all due respect Richard, you are not; nor will you ever be
—my
Master
. I’m here to do a story, nothing more, nothing less. I am not a slave, Richard.”

***

I eyed the little spitfire that sat at my table.

This is going to be fun.

“Ophelia, I would think that you
learned your lesson last night. I’m not a man to be toyed with. You will address me as Master in front of my staff and out in public.”

I looked up at the man addressing me and I spoke through clenched teeth. “You forced me to come here—to do a story. You went so far as to force me into your bed. I can’t be bought, or sold, and I’m not calling you or anyone else, Master! Now I understand at work in front of your little harem that you have to maintain your
Mastership
; or whatever it is called, but as far as your
Bed chambers
as you so eloquently label it, I won’t be calling you Master in there, because………I……won’t…….be………in……your…….bed……..

Oh, shit!

He rose—making his way towards me. I almost knocked the table’s contents over and onto the floor; trying to get up and away from him.

He grabbed me
with ease, before I could do so.

This little bra
t; is getting ready to get it.

I carried her to the edge
of my desk and leaned in growling in her ear, “Get those pants down, Ophelia!”

She immediately began begging,
which only served to turn me on.

“I’m sorry,” she
screeched. I’m just saying that I’m not a slave. Pleeeeeeeze.”

“Get those pants down, now
, Ophelia!”

My hands shook as I unbuttoned my suit pants and the thought of someone
entering and seeing me this way horrified me.

Why didn’t
I keep my mouth shut?

I bent down and growled in her ear, “I bet that you are wishing that you would have kept that big mouth
of yours shut.”

I wiggled her pants down over her hips and eyed the marks that I had left on that beautiful ass of hers
, the night before. I pulled myself from my pants and spread her open. “Oh so wet, Ophelia. Your body tells me all of your little secrets. It tells me of the tendencies that you have. It tells me that you like the things that I do to you. It begs, and pleads for me to take it, use it, defile it, and own it, Ophelia.”

       “Ahhhhhhh fuuuuuuuuck, ahhhhhhhh,pleeeeeeeze.”

“Please what Ophelia? Let you cum?”

I leaned down into her ear and viciously growled, “No!”

***

Tears streamed down my face
; as I became more and more distressed due to his not allowing me release.

“When you are in
My
house,
My
bed, Ophelia, you are to address me as
Master
and discipline will be swift, sure, and sadistic; when not carried out.”

I clenched her ass
with my finger tips squeezing hard enough to insure that my fingerprints would mark it; as I began to roughly thrust in and out of her.

“Please don’t hurt me, please don’t hurt me, please, I’ll be good, I’ll be good.”

“Oh my Ophelia—you are a wonderful little beggar; music to my ears.”

I ground
down into that tight little pussy as I listened to her beg me and promise me the moon; if I would only let her cum. Hell no, she wasn’t cumming!

***

As soon as he f
inished I tried to rise and run but he was just getting started proving his point. He palmed my lower back and reached over grabbing baby wipes to clean us both up.

“Get your ass over in that corner behind my desk,” he mandated.
Though he always used a condom and safe sex was always practiced here at the mansion—I had noticed that baby wipes were in discreet locations throughout the residence.

Attention to detail was evident in all things concerning the mansion—the Masters here border-lined on being OCD. I would soon learn that it was an inside joke in the BDSM community that most Masters and Doms
suffer some form of OCD in one manner or another.

When I attempted
to pull my pants up he growled, “Pants down, you just shuffle your little ass right over there.”

I made small steps shuffling
and sniffling, until I reached the corner and he made his way over and drew a circle on the wall with chalk.

“I wan
t your nose in that circle and if it moves—you young lady are in deep trouble!”

I stood eyeing my little Ophelia’s tear stained face and snotty nose. She was absolutely adorable and I can’t say that seeing her this way did not tug on my heartstrings. But……Not to the point of me not teaching her a lesson.

***

I stood in that corner for what seemed like forever. I was grateful for the fact that I was turned around. I have never been so embarrassed, or humiliated in my life.

People went in and out of the office while I was like that and I couldn’t turn to look, so I had no way of knowing who had seen me like this.

I hated him right now, just hated him……..

I eyed my little Ophelia in the corner, it had been my plan to bring her in for a ‘mind fuck’ session
, not a ‘discipline’ session. But the best laid plans, oh well…..there was plenty of time, because I was in no hurry.

Barbie

Daphne listened as Barbie filled her in on all of the dirt.

“When slave Ashia went in to Master’s office he had that high and mighty bitch standing in the corner…..With her pants down.” Barbie covered her mouth to keep from laughing. “That means that she is fucking up and I still have a chance. Once Master sees that she is not slave material he will kick her ass to the curb. Serves the bitch right, thinking that she can walk in here and take the head Master,” Barbie spewed in disgust.

Master William

      
Master William sat doing one of his favorite things to do—spy on the slaves of course. So that he could find their weaknesses and use it as
mind fuck
material.

It worked out quite well for his Sadistic and voyeuristic sides. He chuckled as he reveled in the control that he had.

Master William was all about control. He enjoyed the thrill of the hunt; the hunt of finding each slave’s Achilles heel and using it for his benefit.

Once again he had been under-estimated by a slave and once again
, that slave would regret it. You see, Barbie still didn’t
get it
; she was a slave now. She had no rights. She had the Masters of the Mansion and their will for her life—and sooner or later—one way, or another—William was going to get that through to her. It was the Master’s way, or no way. Such was the law of
The Mansion.

Ophelia

I had been instructed to be dressed and ready for dinner
by 6:00pm promptly. Timing was everything here at the mansion. There was order, rules, and protocol. Once again my clothing had been picked out for me. Master Richard, had insisted that my hair be worn down and I wasn’t about to defy him on the matter. My ass insisted that I adhere to his wishes. The stings of the day before; reminded me of him each time that I sat down.

Dinner was always a formal affair in the mansion and guests were expected to
be dressed accordingly. Black Tie was usually the genre of attire that was donned by the professionals—professionals that were guests for the evening.

S
ometimes fetish wear would be worn and that was accepted. There seemed to be an unspoken protocol here and those who
got it
were accepted. Those who didn’t—were asked to leave. They were black marked from the upper echelon of the BDSM community.

Very few graced the doors of the mansion. This was the playground of the
high rollers and the most elite of the BDSM community. There was a shroud of secrecy and discretion was of the utmost importance here.

Though I struggled inwardly wi
th my relationship with my Boss, there was a part of me that was honored to be here. I held him in the highest esteem and respected him immensely—yet I warred inwardly with the fact that he was pulling me into his world. And it was as if I was losing control and he was gaining it.

I am
an Author and certain personality traits come with that. It carries with it an innate desire and curiosity to research things, until I have a full understanding of them. I don’t just want to know
how
something works, or
how
someone thinks, I want to know
why
it works that way and
why
they think that way.

I will study something until I understand it
, and I compartmentalize the same way that many professionals that are successful do. This keeps my head straight and it keeps me thinking clearly and on top of my game.

Dinner was not
just dinner to me; dinner was
research
. This was my opportunity to go and learn. I was excited by that. My phone rang and it was my best friend, I put it on speaker and continued to apply my makeup.

Debbie chattered into the phone. “Hey girl
, how is everything going with that mysterious kink story that you are doing?”

“Debbie, you know me better than that, I don’t interview and tell.”

“Any ravishing Masters, that you can have kinky sex with?”

“
No, Debbie; I am here to work—purely professional.”

I’m such a liar.

Even though it was a lie, to put it simply, it was none of her business. Trying to explain this world to a
vanilla
was ludicrous at best. It would not matter what story that I was doing, I was always professional and discreet.

“Ooh girl, let me fill you in on the dirt.”
Debbie said, off on another trail.

“Please do, inquiring minds want to know,” I chuckled.

“Well, it seems that Bob has a friend who is a publisher and he has been asking questions about where you are and what kind of story that you’re doing. Hmm, of course he had to throw his two cents in—on what he thought about you working for a kink magazine. His opinion is that you make enough money selling books. Of course—he doesn’t understand why you have to go and work for some kink magazine. He seems to think that they are all a bunch of
kooks
, and
quacks
.”

“Debbie, I don’t care what Bob thinks; it is none of his damn business where I work, or what I do. I broke up with him because of his uppity judgmental ways. He needs to go find some boring
, conservative woman, who agrees with all of his uptight bullshit.”

Richard listened from around the corner and when he had heard enough
, he made his way into the dressing room. “Please hang the phone up Ophelia, you are at work.”

“I need to go Debbie, time to work.”

Ophelia hung up before her nosey friend could ask any more questions. This was one time that she was glad for the intrusion, she was sick of hearing about Bob anyway.

***

I stood in the mirror tying my bow tie that accompanied the Tuxedo that I wore and eyed my little Ophelia.

“Ophelia……….
I do hope that I have made myself perfectly clear on the issue of you dating.”

  
“Oh shit,” I thought….”Here we go.”

“I’m not dating anyone
Richard. I have no desire to date anyone.”

I listened as he chuckled
. He immediately after chuckling became serious. “You do remember how to address me in front of our guests this evening—don’t you?”

“Yes Richard.” I answered.

I had finished with my makeup and was headed to get my dress—when his voice cut through the air. “Not so quickly, I want you to go to the bedside and bend over with your elbows on the bed, Ophelia.”

“Why?
” I whined, humiliated at the prospect of being exposed.

***

I turned cutting my eyes at her and she hustled over to the bed to carry out my mandate; she was learning.

I stood behind her and slowly dribbled her black g-string over her hips and down around her ankles.

I could smell her arousal. Oh yes, my little Ophelia brought out the
primal
side of me.

“How many times have you thought about your Master fucking you in his offi
ce today? I bet that little pussy of yours is mad at you for getting it into trouble.”

***

His fingers slid over my opening
and immediately my legs began to tremble.

“Please,” I whimpered. I don’t know what I
was asking for.

His long
, strong fingers began to stroke at my neglected opening.

“Please, don’t tease me.
I promise that I’ll be good.”

***

I removed the egg from my pocket and she jumped, as I began pushing it into her wet little opening.

“I’m just beginning to tease you Ophelia, you have no idea.”

She squirmed, “What is that?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. Everything was so new to her. In just a matter of days
, she had added a spark into my life that had been missing for so long. It was the truth when I told Master William that I was bored. I hadn’t felt this kind of chemistry with a woman in a long time.

I leaned over growling in her ear; “Its control
—baby girl.”

I flicked th
e switch on right when I said “
control”
and she jumped.

Ophelia

I could feel his hands shimmying my panties down and I literally began to twitch between my legs. His fingers felt like the
y handled the promise of satisfaction and I began to push into them. I couldn’t believe how wet I was. I was scared that I would stain my dress. I felt him pop something into me and before I thought I asked what it was. I immediately knew—when he turned the remote on, it was a
vibrating egg
.

Oh no, he can’t expect me to wear that through dinner
; not with people around.

“Ophelia, you had better be on your best behavior.”

With that he rose and commanded me to be ready within five minutes. I can’t say that the idea of popping that thing out didn’t cross my mind. But he would know if I did—he knew everything. Oh well, it couldn’t be that bad—could it?