Jane is Trained to Submit Ch. 14

'Elizabeth probably wasn't brow beaten down into submission - yet. Given time she might have turned out like the other one,' he said, looking angry.

'OK! This time you did good,' Diane grimaced.

'Thanks for your vote of confidence,' he smiled back at her. 'Just keep an eye on them will you, and let me know if you need anything,' Alex said, indicating that was it.

***

Working at night upset their body rhythm, so they did little after getting up, and having a late breakfast. Elizabeth watched a couple of films, while Jane cleaned and tidied the rooms. It didn't seem long before they were summoned to the changing room for another shift.

'You did well last night. Good tips, so keep it up,' Diane told them both. 'Your turn to select an outfit,' Diane told Jane.

She unfolded the piece of paper and read it out, 'Leather?'

'That's good, we'll be completely covered,' Diane commented.

It was difficult getting into the gear, but eventually they emerged from the walk-in closet.

'I didn't think anyone could get into that outfit. You look devastating,' Diane enviously informed Jane. The latex one-piece enhanced the look of Jane's breasts, holding them up and out, like large balloons.

The clear latex, one-piece outfit, covered her from neck to feet. As her waist had been slimmed by wearing corsets, Jane was able to squeeze in, with help. It was skin tight, showing off her entire body. The tight latex held her breasts up, pushing them straight out. They looked like huge balloons over the tiny pinched waist. Her face was held up by stiff plastic under the chin.

Elizabeth was wearing a similar outfit in tight red, shiny leather. Her bottom was on show, which fascinated her. She kept turning her back to a mirror, and looking over her shoulder at a bare ass. Her head was held up by a stiff leather collar around her neck.

She was a little disappointed that Jane was rudely showing off her pussy, whereas hers was covered. Her nipples were bare, which also held her attention. They were being squeezed out of the tight leather like toothpaste from a tube. The very thought of serving strangers while dressed like this, was heating her up. Becoming so aroused last night, and being excited now, made her think she was turning out like Jane. Would she end up an uncontrollable slut like her?

Jane was so easily turned on, and was hot before even entering the private room.

Diane went for an all in one black leather outfit. It was skin tight, hugging her voluptuous figure. Unlike Jane's it wasn't see through, or baring anything like Elizabeth's lewd attire. Like the others, she could pull the crotch seam apart for a comfort break, which was a practical feature.

The two women were busy serving and fending off the men. Elizabeth was pleased by the attention, and thrilled from showing off her body to strangers. She forgot all about looking out for Jane. When she met her at the bar, waiting for drinks to be mixed, they both laughed and shared a joke. Elizabeth figured she was alright, as Diane was keeping an eye on them both.

'How may I help you this evening, sir,' Jane asked.

'Hello, Mrs Marshal,' Nigel said.

Jane was taken aback from being addressed by her name. The guests knew her first name, but that was all. The guests were anonymous strangers, and she hardly took notice of their faces, even when they were touching her up. She glanced at him and looked away. Christ! The young man was a friend of her daughters!

Without thinking she blurted out, 'How did you get in here?'

'I was going to ask you the same thing,' he smiled. 'I used my father's membership card,' he explained.

What was she going to do now? 'Would you like a drink?' she asked, while looking around for an escape route.

It was too late now. He had recognised her, and was looking her over. She was appallingly conscious of what he was looking at, and the awful way he was looking at it. Her naughty bits were clearly visible through the clear plastic suit. Out of habit as a slave, she stood with her legs apart.

She wanted to slam her thighs together, only to find her whole body weak with fear. Louise was safely out of the way at University, yet he knew her, her friends, and their parents. If anyone found out about this, the gossip would surely reach her daughter. Returning to the town they grew up in would be impossible. More importantly, how would her daughter react?

'You look very sexy, Mrs Marshal. Fetch me a coke. I want a clear head, so no alcohol,' he said.

'Yes, sir,' she said, choking on the words.

She answered to her name so it was true! Watching her walk to the bar, he couldn't believe this was the tight assed woman he knew from back home. He liked Louise but hated visiting their house, as Jane was such a pain. It was fascinating watching her ass wiggling in the see-through outfit. He'd seen everything, as though she were naked. What in hell was she doing here, dressed like that?

On the way to the bar, she wondered what he meant about keeping a clear head. If he intended to make the most of her embarrassment, she was in trouble. Elizabeth wasn't at the bar. Looking around, she saw her protector was busy with a raucous group of guests playing cards. Diane had slipped out to the rest room, for an illicit cigarette.

Delivering the drink, she wondered if he had chosen this out of the way corner table on purpose. 'May I get you anything else, sir,' she politely asked.

It was embarrassing treating this young man with the same courtesy and esteem shown to a private guest. He had told her to fetch him a drink, as though she were his personal servant. Last time he called at their house, he was just a kid, and had to behave himself. He had to talk to her politely and with respect, now it was the other way around.

'Are those big tits real?' he asked.

This was even more demeaning, leaving her feeling small and insignificant. She was flustered by his audacity, not knowing what to say. So he did select this corner table to pester her.

'Well? Are they real?' he persisted.

'Yes, sir,' she croaked out.

Her face felt hot, and the colour spread down her neck, and over her breasts. He was watching her embarrassment, seeing the effect of the rude question upon her body. She took a deep breath, heaving up her breasts, feeling the clear plastic clinging to them.

Nigel could see she was in turmoil over what to do. He recognised her when he walked in, not really believing it, and had it confirmed when she didn't deny it. After answering such an impolite question, and not making a fuss, he figured she was desperate to keep this dirty secret.

'You had better get back to serving, or you'll be in trouble. As long as you hurry back to serve me. You don't want to get into trouble, do you, Mrs Marshal?' he said, with a nasty grin on his face.

Taking it as a warning, she hurriedly served the guests, not daring to linger. Fortunately they were engrossed in gambling, not bothering to take much notice of her. The regulars were used to scantily clad women running around serving them.

He watched her hurrying back to him, with an anxious look on her face. He was going to find out how desperate she was to keep the wicked little secret.

'How may I serve you, sir,' she asked.

What else could she say? At least in this private club there was little he could do to her, or he would be expelled. It occurred to her that she couldn't rely on that, or he would have to explain to his father why his membership had been revoked. The nasty gossip would then start the rounds of their neighbourhood. The little shit had her trapped!

'Come closer. These seem to be detachable,' he said.

She was transfixed, staring at his fingers pulling at her nipples. A disk of plastic came away from a breast, exposing the areola and nipple. He tweaked the nipple, and pulled it.

'They grow big and fat, don't they. I'd better release the other one, it looks squashed up in there,' he commented.

She watched helplessly as he pulled the other disk of plastic from her breast. He left them on the table, as though daring her to reach for them. It wasn't much of a problem walking around exposing her nipples to strangers in the club. It was humiliating having this particular young man expose them, and maul them.

She felt powerless to stop him. He held her gaze with an understanding that his silence had to be earned. The feeling of humiliation was familiar, with the usual result growing stronger. She was already aroused from prancing around in the see-through bodysuit. The disgrace of having a daughters young friend pulling on her nipples, was stoking her up.

'Run along and serve the men. I'm sure you're used to serving men your nipples. Serve me well, and I'll keep your secret,' he smiled at her.

'Yes, sir, thank you sir,' she heavily sighed.

The shit knew how fearful of being found out she was, and was prepared to use this power over her. He was ordering her about as though he were a master, and she couldn't help responding. She quickly made the rounds of other tables, making short work of taking their drink orders. They seemed happy enough to take in the sight of a naked woman, and merely commenting on her breasts, and nipples.

At the bar Diane and Jane waited for cocktails to be fixed. 'Your very animated this evening, keeping your tables served,' Diane commented.

'Yes mistress, thank you mistress,' Jane nervously said.

'There's no need to compete with Lizzie. Your nipples are out,' she pointedly stated.

'Sorry, mistress. The covers fell off,' Jane lied.

'Never mind. They are certainly an eye full,' Diane said, and walked off with a tray of drinks.

Jane served the drinks, on her way back to her tormentor. He was waiting for her with a devilish grin. She wondered what he was going to do to her next. She bent over the table laying out a couple of dishes filled with nibbles. He reached up and tweaked her nipples.

'Big rubbery things aren't they, Mrs Marshal,' he commented.

'Yes, sir, thank you sir,' she hesitantly agreed.

His hand went down to her crotch and scratched her pussy through the plastic with a finger nail. Over her sensitive, flowering lips, the touch was intensely felt. The outfits' crotch pulled tight between her lips, and cheeks, showing off everything. She could feel the clear plastic crudely separating her pumped up lips.

'Your lips are very fleshy, and still growing. There's not a lot of room in there,' he commented.

The casual way this young man was commenting on her sex was humiliating. He was purposely tormenting her, toying with her like a cat with a mouse. She was caught between his paws, on her breasts, and her crotch, playing with her intimately. The young man had reduced her to a poor little mouse, submitting to his toying with her body. He was firing her emotions with anxiety, and arousal.

She deeply inhaled, hoping it was her imagination. It felt as though a finger had rubbed her clit!

'I thought so, the seam comes apart,' he laughed.

Jane thought she was safe from wandering hands in this outfit, even though it showed everything off. He had her nipples to maul, now the brat was playing with her down there! Her body was already smouldering. He was igniting her! A hand was pinching a nipple, and fingers were entering her. If he kept this up, she would noisily orgasm.

'Please not here! Please sir. Please!' she begged.

'Are you begging me to make you cum, here in public, Mrs Marshal? You're such a dirty slut, Mrs Marshal,' he laughed.

'Yes! Please, sir,' she groaned.

In a mirror set on the wall behind him, she could see the room full of men. She imagined they were watching her, waiting for her to reach a climax. There was no holding back now! His fingers were working her hard, controlling her, forcing her to make a spectacle of herself.

Jane put a hand over her mouth to suppress a guttural scream. The buzz of conversations around the gaming tables drowned out the orgasmic cry, though she didn't know that. She thought she had advertised her orgasm to all and sundry. He pulled her face close to his.

'Did you enjoy that Mrs Marshal? You cum in front of a room full of men, you dirty little slut,' he grinned.

'Yes! Thank you master, for making me cum. You made me yours. I'm your dirty little slut, master,' she whimpered.

Nigel didn't know what to say. Where did all that come from? He examined her closely, wondering what she meant.

'I'm your master, so what are you?' he asked, trying not to sound bemused.

'I'm your slave, master,' she said.

He assumed it was something to do with the orgasm, and where they were. Was she playing up to him, desperate to keep him happy?

Almost running back to the bar, manoeuvring among tables, she tried to keep the state of her thighs a secret. She dare not stop to take an order, or they would see the mess of juices through the clear plastic. All these men would see what she was, nothing but a dirty slut, ready to cum for anyone.

She imagined the guests helping themselves to her pussy, while she memorised their drinks order. Fingers delving in, rubbing her clit, pinching her nipples, pumping her ass. Her body had been on view, now it was available to anyone who cared to use it.

While Libby filled the order, Jane quickly dived into the staff rest room, to clean herself up. In the see-through outfit her puffy labia was embarrassing. The lips had been glistening with sex juices, evidence of the sordid performance with that young boy. He was only eighteen, yet he had her trapped.

Once cleaned up she could at least walk through the room with a little confidence. Not much, but she was grasping for a hold onto reason.

Jane quickly took orders from the guests, and was impatiently waiting for Libby .

'Thank god you're here. Switch this damn thing off will you. Back there, there's a switch somewhere,' Elizabeth pleaded.

Jane found something between the shoulder blades on Elizabeth's suit, and pressed it.

'It's a vibrator, built into the suit. The guys have been amusing themselves switching the damn thing on,' she explained. 'I've been on the edge of an orgasm, for ages,' she heavily sighed.

'We haven't had proper sex for days. I'm feeling so horny, I'm desperate to cum,' Jane admitted.

'It's all this playing around, it's driving me crazy,' Jane said. 'With that butterfly pressed up tight against my sex, I'm so horny I could jump anyone,' Elizabeth moaned. 'They keep playing with my nipples and squeezing my butt. It's not enough, even with that damn thing in my pants,' she complained.

Jane moved off with a tray, delivering drinks on the way back to Nigel. Calling the young guy her master was a mistake, and she hoped he wouldn't make anything of it. He made her orgasm, whereas her owner hadn't, so in a way it made him her master. The feeling of being owned by him was difficult to shake off.

'How may I help you, sir,' Jane said. She avoided calling him master, only just.

'What will you do for me?' he asked.

'Anything you want, sir,' she replied.

'No longer calling me master, then,' he said.

'Sorry, master,' she automatically replied.

'So, slave, tell me what you will do for me,' he persisted.

'Anything my master, wishes,' she reluctantly said.

At least here, she was safe, and he would be gone soon. All he could do was humiliate her. The thought ramped up her arousal. Unfortunately it was patently obvious in the see through outfit.

'Tell me exactly what is on offer to a master,' he demanded.

'My sex, mouth, and asshole, are my masters to play with, master.' she said.

The words tumbled from her lips, increasing the feeling of disgrace. This young man was a friend of her daughters, and with his parents had visited her home for dinner parties. He should be showing her respect, as an older woman, and a friend of his parents. Any respect due had been blown away when he made her orgasm. She stood before him dressed like a common tramp, and a slut on heat.

'Well, Mrs Marshal, I wonder what the neighbours would say if they saw you now? What would my parents think of you, offering your body to me. They would all think you're a dirty little whore. What are you, Mrs Marshal?' he taunted.

'I'm a dirty little whore, master,' she replied.

'I'm glad you acknowledge the fact. I want those luscious lips around my cock, Mrs Marshal. What will you do with my cock in your mouth,' he quietly asked.

'Your dirty little whore will suck her master dry, master.' she breathed out heavily.

Nigel watched her whole body becoming turned on, as he made her talk dirty. She was enjoying every filthy word. She was vibrating with sexual energy.

'I want to fuck you, Mrs Marshal,' he said.

'Yes, master, please fuck your whore, master,' she groaned.

There was little she could do to control herself, after becoming so worked up. From past experience she knew anything would be agreed to, once aroused. It was dreadful to be this way with someone she knew. The only excuse was that he had her trapped, desperate for his silence once back home.

'When you finish here, you'll come back to my hotel,' he said.

'Sorry, master, I can't. I'm kept here, as a slave. My owner keeps me locked in a room, in this hotel. Security won't let me leave,' she explained.

It was a surprise to find how painful it was to say it. Blocking his plan should have been a minor triumph, yet she really did want to go with him, and do whatever he wanted.

He could see how desperate she was, and half believed her. Of course she was putting him off, not wanting to go through with it. Making a sordid offer was one thing, but carrying it through was another.

'I'll go with you to your room, slave,' he goaded her.

'I'll try, master. There might be a way,' she said.

How could she be so bad as to collude with this young guy, helping him to fuck her? It was shameful. The way she spoke, the way she felt, and that it was him, made it all so much more distressing.

'You can go and do your job, slave. Come back to me when you've arranged for me to go to your room,' he smiled.

'Yes, master, thank you master,' Jane submissively spoke

The small relief from escaping him was tarnished, from knowing he wanted to get into her room, and into her. They didn't have a key to the elevator that went up to their penthouse suite. When they were ready to go a security man would operate it, sending them to their floor. The door would open directly into their rooms, and would go down again, ready to ascend to another suite.

Opposite the elevator was a staff restroom, and an elevator down to the exit. If she could get him into the staff area, he could hide in there. Distract the security guy, and Nigel could run into the elevator. For an hour or so she wondered why she was planning her own downfall.

'I need his co-operation. I need him to keep my sordid secret. I need to protect Louise,' she said, to the restroom mirror.

Her hands gripped a sink with white knuckles, showing how hard she was concentrating. The words were overriding the guilty feeling of needing him. The truth swam around in her head, that she needed a good seeing to.

Nigel hadn't believed her. The idea of being kept there as a slave was preposterous. He remembered hearing his folks talking about her selling up, after going broke. They had wondered how she could afford to send Louise to college. That just meant she was working here, to earn good money. Ok, so she was a wage slave, and obviously security wouldn't allow guests to her room.

When she explained the plan, he listened. It wasn't as though he would get into trouble if they were caught. If it worked, then he would have a fun night.

Throughout the evening he dragged up memories of her. Though he hadn't much contact with her, he occasionally visiting with parents, or with friends to see Louise. What he did remember was that she had been a stuck up bitch. Looking at her now, it was hard to believe she had been such a prim and proper woman.