Antique Store Maid

He obviously wanted something more than sex, yet don't we all need more, such as companionship, and lots more. She didn't have that at home, or sex either. There was something missing there too.

'Maybe,' she started to say.

He looked at her with a question on his face.

'We can't pay you back. A debt absorbed the credit card payment you made. My husband will try to get a lone to repay you. It will take a few days,' she explained.

He was being flirty, but she was still stuck in the subservient role. She doubted herself, feeling small and delicate. She looked to him for protection and support. Wondering why that was did no good, as she was caught up in a whirl of thoughts and overwhelming emotions.

'So you really are mine, for a while at least. When do you think he can raise the money to buy you back?' Sebastian asked, sounding concerned for her.

'A couple of days, err, maybe. Like, really, I'm not sure,' Bridget hesitantly spoke.

It took a moment before realising what had been said. She'd agreed that her husband must buy her back, and therefore this young man still owned her. A shiver of emotion raced up from her tummy, to spread in her mind triggering all sorts of emotions. The dominating atmosphere of the office, his powerful presence, combined with the silly idea he owned her.

For a few minutes, she sat there feeling small and insignificant, as though she were this man's serving girl. Worse than that. She was owned by him, making her his slave. It felt as though she were in one of the historical novels she liked so much.

'You'll have to stay here as collateral. Maybe I'll keep you, and won't sell you back to him,' Sebastian teased.

'Oh! Will you keep me, sir? You won't sell me, sir?' she exclaimed, and felt foolish.

It looked as though he was taking it as joke, but then he sat there thinking it over. She couldn't shake off the feeling it was all very serious, as though she were in a fantasy world. The emotions were fogging her thinking, and had to be calmed down.

A path back to reality had to be found and used, as this was getting out of hand. It was suddenly realised she was playing out a story from one of those historical novels. A poor man sold his wife, and she begged not to be sold again until her husband could buy her back.

What happened to the wife she wondered? Oh, yes. The wife now had an excuse to keep her master happy, and she did until he fell in love with her, then he wouldn't sell her back to her husband.

'What did you have in mind?' she asked. 'We could do with the money,' she admitted.

Why in hell did she say that? It was a mistake admitting they needed the money, as it made her sound desperate. Worse, she was asking to stay and earn the money they owed him.

'Nothing much, not sure really, up to you I guess. Stay here, see how it goes?' he asked.

Before she could stop herself, she said, 'There would have to be rules.'

'I bought you, making me your owner, so I get to make the rules,' Sebastian said.

It was there again, the feeling of being subject to a strong, masterful man. It felt as though he had physically gripped her and held onto her. She found it hard to think, and figured she would try to resist, but eventually give in to him, like the vulnerable heroine in a novel.

'Yes, I guess so, like, we do owe you, so, of course, I'll have to, you know,' she murmured, unsure what to say.

What in hell was she agreeing to? Her voice was slight, hesitant, and unsure. It sounded as though she were a young adolescent again, standing before a strict parental figure. He was younger than her, so why was it happening? It was her fault not his.

'What can I do with a beautiful young woman?' he teased

He sounded like the young man she had flirted with in the store once again.

'I don't know, it's up to you,' Bridget said, and wished she hadn't.

Damn it! He was so very handsome. It wasn't a confusion between paying him back, and knowing her husband couldn't. It was more like he could make her happy, and her husband couldn't. Damn it! This handsome young man could make her very happy.

'I'll think of the different ways you can please me, and put them into the rules. Alright?' he said, in that overpowering way he had.

The deep voice coupled with manly confidence, could only be called masterful. He owned her, so that really did make him her master, didn't it?

'Err, yes, I guess. You own me, so, like, does that make you my master?' she asked, again using that little girly voice.

Bridget couldn't get the novel out of her mind. It seemed as though she were trapped in it, and had to play the role out. His strong voice was weakening her, draining her will to resist. She couldn't help asking silly questions, as they just slid out of her mouth without her brain having a chance to edit them.

'Of course. While I own you, I'm you master,' Sebastian firmly stated. 'You look worried, come here.'

It wasn't a demand that merited a refusal, it sounded as though he was helping the little worried girl inside her. She didn't even realise she had got up and walked around the desk to stand before him. With his big strong hands holding hers, she felt better. In one movement he turned her around and sat her on his lap.

Bridget sighed, feeling cared for and looked after. She was tightly held in his arms, enjoying the feeling of him, the smell of his maleness, and his breath tickling her neck.

'You bought me, so you're my master, and that makes me your slave,' she whispered, while daydreaming out loud.

He knew better than she did what was going on inside her. He was seducing her, in a roundabout way. Alternately teasing, and heavily leaning on her, was working. The store and her marriage was in trouble, and she desperately needed to be saved from both. He was offering her safety, care, and attention. All the things she needed.

'Yes, you are my slave-girl. A beautiful slave-girl. Can you be obedient to your master, and fulfil your master's needs?' he asked, with a deep voice rattling her ribs.

'Yes!' she heavily sighed.

'Good, slave-girl. I shall keep you safe, and give you all the nice things you want. I'll keep the nasty things of life away from you,' he promised.

If she snapped out of the fantasy she had weaved, he could say it was all about flirting, and playing a game, nothing serious. If only he could see into her mind, he would have a clearer idea of what she needed him to be, and say.

He kissed her neck, and only just avoided touching her breasts. His hands were all over her, except where they shouldn't be, and maybe she wanted them. She turned her head, and he kissed her lips.

'You are so very beautiful. Such a wonderful figure, and your legs so shapely, so long,' he mumbled into an ear.

'Yes!' she breathed out on a deep sigh.

A hand cupped a breast, and they began to deeply kiss. An alarm told her a breast was being mauled. Ignoring it was easy, for it was her master's wish, and she was nothing more than his humble slave-girl.

The hem was pulled up, and she closed her legs together.

Sebastian stopped kissing, and whispered, 'Be good slave-girl, and obey your master.'

He felt her thighs slowly part. He stroked her thighs, getting closer and closer to her sex. Through the deep kissing, she moaned fretfully. Her hand went to his, and gripped his wrist. For a moment he thought that was it, until she pushed his hand into her crotch.

He expertly played with her sex, driving her deeper into a fantasy. It was her only escape, an escapism into a fantasy.

Bridget had to submit to him, or he would sell her on to someone else, and her husband may never find her, to buy her back. She would remain a slave girl for the rest of her life, sold on to one master after another. It was so very important to please her master, so that he kept her safe, and she could only do that by being his obedient slave girl.

He smoothly moved her from his lap onto the desk. He wished he could have removed the dress, but he had to keep her in her fantasy, and not make any false moves. He was standing between her legs, kissing her passionately, which she returned with equal passion.

Her panties were already awry, from fingering her. He also knew she was ready. His penis touched her pussy and rubbed between her lips. Her reaction was to clamp her legs together, but he was between them, making it impossible. He gently slipped into her, and she moaned, sounding grateful.

It was a strange noise coming from her throat. A deep vibration, of pure satisfaction. He knew his cock was big, and a woman felt satisfied with him. He didn't know whether she wanted him to go carefully and slow, or thump her pussy with hard thrusts.

His hips touched hers, and she moaned fretfully. He slowly increased the pressure and the rhythm.

'Is that good, slave girl?' Sebastian asked.

'Mmm, oh, yes, master!' she heavily breathed.

He wanted to pound her pussy, but he held back, to pleasure her this time. There would be opportunity enough now he had her trapped. She would want to keep this a secret, and his payment would be her body over the next few days. Her husband wouldn't get a loan over the weekend, so next Tuesday would be the soonest. Six days of owning a sexy bitch would be wonderful.

He started to cum, and this set her off. Her legs swung back and forth, then her entire body vibrated with sexual energy. She couldn't help it, she was enlivened as he spurted his load into her. She was bouncing with energy, unable to calm down.

He held her for awhile, then pulled her onto his lap. He'd pulled her panties off while she recovered. It seemed she had been completely absorbed in the climax. He hid her panties in a draw, with the intention of not letting her wear any while here.

Not noticing her panties were missing, not caring about anything, she sat on his lap with her head buried into a shoulder. The bliss of an afterglow was always deep and overwhelming. Nothing mattered, not even guilt over letting her husband down.

'Your my obedient slave-girl,' Sebastian whispered.

'Yes, master,' Bridget heavily breathed.

Once recovered, she got off his lap and stood in front of him, looking like a naughty girl. Still feeling warm and pleasant, she was deeply immersed into the fantasy. Like a summer afternoon in the sun, it felt as though she should skip through a meadow in bare feet. This handsome young man had done that to her. He'd satisfied her needs. He was caring, understanding, and he completed her so wonderfully, she was still all aglow.

'That was wonderful, beautiful slave girl,' he grinned.

How she had given in to him, was a mystery. The fantasy felt so real. It was still a lovely shadow engulfing her, and was something she didn't want to let go of. She was ready to shirk her responsibilities, wanting to shrug the fantasy back on like a comfy sweater, to be a character in a fantasy.

'You are dismissed, slave girl. You can clean up,' he said, indicating the coffee cups and jug.

It was obvious he meant it was her needing cleaning up. She smelt of sex, and especially of his semen, which was leaking out of her.

After a shower she felt refreshed. His semen was still leaking from her, but she couldn't find her panties. The dress was enough to cover her, unless he decided to take her again. This time it would be easier to just bend her over and force himself upon her. As though that would be needed! She was his now, his slave girl, ready to be used.

Being returned to the store wasn't thought about. It might not be long before she had to return to reality, so this fantasy world had to be taken advantage of while she could.

Tying a frilly apron around her waist, Bridget looked like a maid, rather than a slave girl.

***

Walking into the lounge she found him reading a magazine. Not sure of what to say, after their tryst, she stood silently waiting for an order. After what they did their relationship had changed, but what it was now, she wasn't sure.

He was sure what had happened between them. She was a married woman and he had seduced her. Somehow she needed to justify giving in to him, and this time it was easy to see how that was done. He'd bought her, and she seemed to be using that fact as an excuse for what she had given in to.

It wasn't her fault, or anyone's, it just happened, so why the pretence?

'Bring, me a drink, slave-girl,' Sebastian demanded.

Like an attentive slave girl, she scampered off to fetch a drink then realised he meant a brandy, which was there in the office. To cover her mistake, she returned with ice, which he didn't want.

'You can tidy up the room, then dust it,' he said.

She knew what he wanted from the moment she bent over. Of course, he'd kept her panties as he wanted to watch her bending and stretching her body in front of him. The dirty old man! Except he wasn't old or dirty. He was young, attractive, and clean cut. He was well built and looked as though he worked out at a gym.

Bridget couldn't help herself, she flaunted her body at him, needing him to want her. The sex session couldn't be undone. They had sex and she had become enthralled with him, unable to break free of the fantasy. She wanted him to be her master, and for him to master her.

A combination of the heavy climax, her slave fantasy, his powerful presence, and the continuing arousal, it become easy to accept being his slave until her husband bought her back from him.

'Come here slave,' he demanded.

Damn! He was treating her exactly how she needed to fulfil her slave fantasy. The very idea of living a naughty story had her aroused. She stood before him with her motor running, vibrating like his sports car. She was so obviously stoked up, it was embarrassing, leaving her feeling like his shameless slave girl.

'You need some clothes, so I need your size. Not your style, I shall choose that. You will choose a style of furniture and decoration for this house. I want to make it into a home. You will be a part of it, slave girl,' he stated.

'Yes, master, whatever you say, master,' she blurted out.

If she had thought about it, those damning words wouldn't have left her lips. She wetted them, adding to the gloss on her rosebud lips. He was going to purchase her makeup too. There were feminine things she needed, would he be buying those too? Did he expect her to be here that long?

If her husband didn't come and fetch her home, would she be here for as long as he wanted her?

'You said, you needed help in decorating the place,' Bridget said.

'You want me to decorate this house, master. What is the budget, master,' she respectfully asked.

'A blank cheque,' he told her.

She needed to tell him, no more sexual games, but couldn't bring herself to be so blatant. It might sound as if she had been thinking about it, wanting it, and she was merely warning him off. Or worse, was she asking him if he intended to take her again? That would be closer to the truth as that is what she wanted.

She didn't know why she was agreeing to this dangerous idea of being his slave. It wasn't just the money, there was something else going on, which had to be avoided. It felt as though the desire to be a slave girl had been there some time, and he'd just triggered it into becoming a reality.

'Whatever you want me to do, master' she said, sounding far more sincere than she should have.

'Phone you're husband, and tell him where you are. He'll be worried,' Sebastian said.

That wasn't what she had meant, but it was a practical move. Bridget wondered what she was going to say, and realised they hadn't agreed to anything yet. She felt nervous and vulnerable, yet reassured by his concern. His very presence was comforting. She unclipped an earring to put the phone to an ear.

Sebastian pulled her onto his lap, to indicate he owned her, and that she was now his, while she spoke to her husband. When she didn't object, he took it as a good sign. When she called him master, that too was a good sign. The way she looked at him, with a mixture of desire, and satisfaction, left him feeling the need to hold onto her.

'Bob, it's me, I'm at Sebastian's house. I've agreed to decorate the place, it's almost empty of furnishings,' she said, as a way of explaining why she was there.

'So when are you coming back?' he pointedly asked.

'I'm staying the weekend, to make a list. I'll try to get as much as possible from the shop. Have you arranged a loan yet?' she asked.

'I've made an appointment with the bank, for Monday. It will probably be available on Tuesday. Though it is possible I won't get a loan. What happens if it can't be arranged? What will he say to that?' he asked.

'I don't think he'll let me return,' she said, sounding nervous.

Damn! She shouldn't have said that. It hadn't been planned, it just slipped out in the middle of the conversation.

'If you've agreed to stay there why should I get a loan to reverse his payment? As far as I'm concerned he's purchased you, and that pays the lease,' he growled. 'You're his now, bought and paid for, so don't bother coming back. Just do as you're told for a change, and keep him happy,' he ranted.

He was angry even before she could explain anything. She should have lied to him, saying it was all light hearted, and innocent, just a joke.

She bit her lip, wondering at how naughty she felt. What the hell was going on? Why did she get into his car, and tamely walk in to his web?

Sebastian could hear the conversation, as he was so near, and they both heard her husband slam the phone down. She couldn't move, couldn't believe this was happening. The young man's arms were around her, holding her tight. He pulled around and pushed her head onto his chest. He wasn't fondling her he was comforting her.

'He doesn't have much faith in you,' Sebastian stated.

He rubbed her shoulders and neck, finding the knots, easing them. She didn't want to relax, dare not, as she needed to hang on to what sensibility she had left. It wasn't a good sign that she didn't push him away. The slave fantasy kept circulating in her mind. She wanted to escape everything, all the real world troubles and sink into a comfortable fantasy world.

'OK! What now? I take it you heard all of that. Good, I wouldn't want to repeat it. If he doesn't go ahead with a fresh loan, there's no way we can pay you back,' she forlornly stated.

The initial anger was washed away, as it dawned on her what a vulnerable situation she was in. He was a nice young man, a rich young man, but she didn't like taking advantage of him financially.

'Well in that case it looks as though your husband was right, I own you now,' he smiled.

'Yes, OK. You own me, so what are you going to do with me?' she challenged.

She wanted him to say something rude. Something that could be refused, as an excuse to escape. It seemed so difficult to just walk out that front door. She didn't want to go back to her husband, while he was in such a hurtful mood.

She had walked right into this mess and couldn't blame him or anyone else.

'Let's get you an outfit for the job,' he told her.

Resigned to doing as she was told for the moment, they drove to a fancy dress store. Most of the clothes were tacky, or made to be worn just the once. Sebastian found a French maid outfit, that was made of silk, with cotton extras. It was expensive that didn't bother him.

To make sure it fit she had to try it on, which she reluctantly did. Knowing he was enforcing his dominance over her, didn't help resist. It was difficult not submitting to him, and so she went along with whatever he wanted. Besides, he way paying, and the outfit was glamorous. Wearing for him, felt as though she were preparing for a an Agatha Christie film.

He bought her some more clothes as he expected her to stay until Tuesday at least. Nearly a whole week with him would leave her too deeply embedded in the fantasy.