Maggie and the Master (15 page)

In the small bedroom Maggie whimpered as Guido ran his hands over her naked flesh, his exploration demeaning and perfunctory, a parting gesture. Maggie tried to turn away but Guido caught her hair. ‘Aren't slaves supposed to do something else?' he asked darkly, jerking her head up towards him.

Maggie stared at him, apparently uncomprehending, so Guido knelt on the side of the bed and ran his limp cock over her cheek, leaving a trail of moisture in its wake. Comprehension dawned on her face, then Guido jerked her head and she drew his cock into her mouth as Max had taught her to do.

‘That's better,' Guido sighed as she licked his cock and balls, then he pulled away and let go of her. ‘Sweet dreams,' he said, and then left the room.

Guido was close to the end of his training too, and Max would be glad to see the back of him.

It was several hours later that Max watched Maggie walking downstairs towards him in the evening dress he had chosen for her. Boned and cut in a soft velvet, the colour of red wine, it complemented her creamy complexion and emphasised her narrow waist and full hips, the skirt falling like heavy curtain to the floor. She looked almost regal, not a glimmer of the encounter with Guido showing on her face or in her demeanour.

Mrs Griffin had helped her with her make-up, and to dress her hair into a soft bun with tendrils that fell around her face to soften her features. Standing at the bottom of the stairs, caught in the lamplight, she looked exquisite, a possession truly worthy of a man of his status.

Her eyes glittered with delight; she knew she looked good. Max nodded his approval and indicated that she should turn around so he could assess her fully.

‘Very nice, but I have a few final touches to add before we leave, my dear,' he said, and produced a small jewellery box from the pocket of his dinner jacket. Inside was a fine black ribbon with a tiny M picked out in diamonds, and matching drop earrings.

‘There we are, your dress collar,' he said, as she turned to let him fasten it around her slender throat.

Beneath the dress Max knew she was totally naked, because he had watched her being prepared for him in the false mirror. Watching Mrs Griffin neatly trim her sex, watching Maggie submit to the woman's ministrations, delighted him in ways he could not explain and was the perfect antidote to witnessing her with Guido.

Mrs Griffin knew all about the mirror and had carefully guided her charge to stand in front of it so that when she massaged Maggie's back and breasts with perfumed oils it was as much for Max's benefit as for Maggie's.

Opening the girl's thighs to trim her pubic curls, drawing kohl around her eyes and rich red lipstick around her full lips had all been done with an eye on their unseen audience too, and Max appreciated every second.

As Maggie turned towards him now, eyes demurely downcast he felt a great wave of pride and affection toward her. By now he knew every inch of her body and her mind. For an instant he felt a tinge of regret that she would be leaving so soon, but his instinct told him it was time to move on before she became too attached or perhaps, he thought, worse still, before he did.

‘Very good,' he said. ‘Now lift up your skirt, there is something else I have for you.'

Maggie blushed and then looked up at him.

Max met her eyes. ‘You have something to say, little one?' he pressed, but Maggie shook her head, knowing better than to question his instructions, whatever her thoughts, and did as she was ordered, pulling her skirt up above her waist.

Max nodded and admired what was on show. High-heeled shoes emphasised her shapely legs, and above smooth thighs the ridge of her pubis was oiled and soft and smooth as a silk.

Max took a second box from another pocket, and inside were two lengths of silver chain, fixed together in the middle of one so that they formed a T shape. The length of the T wrapped tight around Maggie's waist, while the other pulled up between her legs, fixed at the front of her belly by a small padlock, with Max's initials embossed on it.

The chain sat snugly between the lips of her sex and between the cheeks of her bottom, fastened to press tight into her flesh.

Max smiled as he tested the tautness by slipping his fingers under the links. It looked exquisite nestled deep in her sex, and he knew it would rub and nip at the delicate flesh every time she moved so that all evening there wouldn't be a moment when she wasn't aware of her subjugation and slavery. He stroked down to the rise of her mons, pressing the chain onto the ridge of her clit. The silver links rubbing gently against her would also make her very wet.

He scrutinised her closely. ‘Comfortable?' he asked, and she nodded nervously. ‘Good, then drop your skirt back into place; it's time to leave.'

Mrs Griffin picked up a black velvet cape from the hall stand, the lining chosen to match Maggie's dress exactly, and wrapped it around the girl's shoulders. With the hood up she looked enigmatic and mysterious and Max was struck - as he often had been over the years - of the delightful paradox of having a girl as both slave and companion who to the eyes of the world was beautiful and demure, and yet knowing that beneath the sophisticated exterior lurked a slave who would do anything he commanded, whose body and soul were his to possess, to take or to give away as he chose. It was heady stuff.

Maggie settled in the back of the car as they made their way across town, the chain nipping her sex like eager fingers. Max started up a conversation and Guido watched her every move in the rear-view mirror. What would her life be like after the auction? It seemed so cruel to be sold when she had only just acclimatised to Max's way of life.

The light was beginning to fade as they drew up outside the theatre. Guido got out to open the car door for them, touching his cap in a gesture of respect and subservience that Maggie suspected was little more than an act. He caught her eye and winked, and she coloured as Max glanced at her.

‘He is nothing,' he stated as they walked to the theatre entrance. ‘He may use your body occasionally, but you must understand that's all it is. He has no power over you that you do not give him.'

Maggie stared at him in amazement. ‘You know about Guido?' she gasped.

Max nodded. ‘Of course I do,' he said. ‘I know about everything that does on under my roof. Besides, he is still one of my pupils, just as you are.'

The idea horrified Maggie. ‘So will he be a master one day too?' she asked.

Max shrugged. ‘Who can say? While Guido is in my service he will receive the training, he will go through the motions, but my experience is that masters are born, not made. I'm not sure he has the right balance of care and control.'

As he finished speaking a man in a dinner suit approached them and smiled. ‘Good evening, Mr Jordan,' he said politely, ‘how very nice to see you again. Your box is ready.'

‘And my friends?' Max asked.

‘Most are already seated,' the man informed him.

Maggie looked at the man curiously. Did everyone know about Max, or was this man another member of the club? An usher showed them upstairs to a luxury box where two other men and two women were already waiting for the performance to begin. Maggie didn't need to be told that the women were slaves; their whole demeanour gave them away. Like her they were beautifully dressed in evening gowns, and both had little black ribbons around their throats and sat in silence with eyes downcast.

She shivered, aware that she was glimpsing again the magical doorway into another world. Max indicated that she should sit alongside him, so she did so and sat with her gaze fixed on the floor like her fellow slaves. Max nodded greetings to his fellow theatregoers, and then the orchestra began the overture, making the prospect of any conversation unlikely.

The musical was a lavish production of Hamlet, with a full orchestra adding to the already rich story. As the tragedy began to unfold Maggie looked around at the other people in the box. Both men where in their late forties or early fifties, distinguished and worldly. One of the females was around Maggie's age, whilst the other, a tiny blonde with big blue eyes, looked younger and was quite obviously overawed by their surroundings.

Her master rested a hand on her thigh, and slowly but surely lifted her dress so he could stroke her exposed cunt.

In the boxes opposite Maggie saw that other members of the audience appeared to be slaves and masters too, each of the women wearing the same black band around their throats. Were all these people a part of Max's exclusive club?

In the box alongside theirs was a woman Maggie recognised, dressed in black velvet. It was Freya, and beside her was Beau, wearing a black tie that performed much the same function as the chokers the female slaves wore.

During the interval Max and Maggie made their way to a luxurious anteroom on the same floor, where uniformed staff served champagne cocktails to the twenty or so masters and mistresses and their charges. It appeared that only the masters engaged in conversation with each other.

‘So, is this your latest?' said a large man sipping champagne from a glass dwarfed by his huge hand. On his arm was a diminutive brunette, who stood no taller than his chest.

Max nodded. ‘Indeed it is, Cedric,' he said.

‘And is this the girl you'll be putting up for auction?'

‘Yes, but have no fear, you'll get a chance to put her through her paces before the sale.'

The tall man laughed. ‘I was sorry to have missed your last house party. I hear Mike's new filly is quite a find, too.'

Max nodded in acknowledgement. ‘Indeed she is,' he confirmed, and Maggie blushed as she realised they were talking about the night she had helped Max with Kay. She glanced around the room from the corner of her eye, trying to pick out familiar faces, trying to see if her lodger and her master were there too.

‘There will always be another time, Cedric,' Max added.

‘Yes, but not necessarily with this one,' he looked her up and down. ‘What did you say her name was?'

‘Maggie.'

‘Maggie…' The tall man tried the name out on his tongue, as if tasting some unusual food. ‘How about tonight?' he then suggested. ‘I will lend you Bella, if you like. I know you've always had a soft spot for her.'

Max's expression didn't falter. ‘Later perhaps,' he declined the offer tactfully. ‘We've hardly time during the interval.'

‘I suppose not,' the man conceded. ‘But I'd like a look at what's on offer.'

Max clapped Cedric on the shoulder. ‘You are always so eager, my dear chap,' he chuckled. ‘There will be plenty of time before the auction. Now come along and have another glass of champagne.'

Beside him the little brunette's eyes darkened, and Maggie could almost taste her jealousy.

Max guided Maggie towards one of the waiters, but Cedric waved him away. ‘Not for me at the moment, I'll catch up with you later,' he said.

Max snorted. ‘The man is a pig,' he murmured under his breath. ‘He and Bella have been together since she was sixteen. In essence she is his slave and he is her master, but it's well known that she rules his little harem with a rod of iron. If she doesn't like the slave he buys then life as one of Cedric's stable can be a trial by fire. He should sell her; it would do her the world of good to feel the taste of the crop wielded with some purpose.'

Maggie shivered and turned to look at the couple's retreating backs. It hadn't occurred to her that the usual jealousies and insecurities had any place in this strange world. What if Cedric decided to buy her? What would life be like then?

The five-minute bell rang and everyone made their way back to the auditorium, where Maggie again looked around at the faces of the audience as they settled back into their seats. As the lights went down, across the heads of them Cedric smiled and lifted a hand in her direction, and quickly Maggie looked away, not wanting to encourage him. As he caught the gesture Max's hand dropped onto her thigh possessively.

‘Don't worry,' he whispered. ‘I won't let Cedric have you.'

Maggie shivered, wondering what influence Max had to ensure Cedric was kept at bay, and as the curtain went up for the second half she couldn't help worrying about what the rest of the evening might hold for her.

As the final curtain call was taken and the applause gradually died away Max rose effortlessly. ‘Now for dinner, my dear,' he said to her. ‘I don't know about you, but I'm absolutely ravenous.'

She had assumed they would be taken on somewhere by Guido; a private house or a restaurant, perhaps, but in fact a uniformed usher directed them back to the anteroom where double doors had been opened onto a luxurious dining room set with candles and linen and cut crystal that glittered magically in the flickering light.

Tables had been set around the room, the centre dominated by a larger table on a raised dais. It was here that Max, Maggie and the two couples who'd shared their box were led. Maggie blushed, feeling uncomfortable as the focus of attention, for all the other diners had taken their seats before she and Max were shown to theirs.

The food was exquisite, the service immaculate, but all the time they were eating, above the buzz of conversation and laughter, Maggie could sense the electricity of expectation in the air. As coffee was served one of the waiters went from table to table with an ice bucket, and each master drew a folded piece of paper from inside. Maggie noticed that when they reached the top table, while the other masters took a piece of paper Max politely declined and the waiter moved on.

Eventually, once all the tables were clear except for coffee cups and liqueur glasses, Max turned to her. ‘Maggie,' he said.

She looked at him anxiously. ‘Yes, master?' she whispered.

‘Get up and take off your dress.'

She cringed inwardly, and for a few seconds stared at him in dismay and horror. Surely he couldn't possibly mean it? Of all the things she'd been expecting this wasn't one of them. There had to be at least forty people gathered in the dining room, not counting the waiting staff. She bit her lip, feeling her colour rise.