Meeting the Master Ch. 03

"Probably due to the fact that God doesn't require his flock to turn tricks for him," I remarked sarcastically.

"I never claimed that the analogy was perfect Steve. But it could be your path to understanding why your wife acts the way she does. By accepting me as Master she has made a lifelong commitment to a certain way of life, just like people do when they accept Jesus. Or the samurai code of bushido. Asking her to break all ties with me is like demanding that a deeply religious wife denounce her faith. If you force Ruth to give up being somebody's slave, she will feel like something was ripped out of her life. As if she is incomplete, has lost her focus and is spiritually adrift on a sea of chaos. And in time she will grow to resent you for it."

I hated what he was saying, but I couldn't find any obvious flaws in his logic when held up against what I knew about Ruth and her cult.

"So we are pretty much screwed, is that what you're saying?" I asked.

I took a deep breath and continued.

"Because I cannot and WILL NOT share my wife with others. I don't care whether it be a man, a cult, a deity or something different. Either she is mine and ONLY mine or she is history. On the other hand Ruth seems so entrenched in this master/slave shit that I have no chance of weaning her off it. Yes, I believe you there. After twenty-four years she has probably gotten so friggin institutionalized by you and your cult that there's no coming back. So what options do I have M? None! Ruth and I are over. Finito. The end. Clear the stage and let the fat lady sing. Bitch is all yours -- I'm going home to my kids."

"Maybe there is a way," M started.

"Well, do tell maestro."

"Ruth needs a master Steve, but it doesn't have to be me. You could take on that responsibility yourself. If you haven't figured it out yet, this is one of the reasons why I assigned you Motoko. I wanted you to walk a mile in my shoes and see how you like the fit."

"Disappointment of the day, eh M?"

"No you aren't a disappointment. Far from it. You got off to a weak start and managed to throw your girl under the bus because you mistook her devotion for a game, but once you realised the implications of your action you acted promptly and determinedly like a master should. I know you hated punishing Motoko, but it had to be done and you did it."

"Whop-dee-friggin-doo," I hummed with sarcasm. "I can beat up a hundred pound girl who is chained to the ceiling and half dead from dehydration. Call me master and bow before my awe-inspiring might."

"Whatever you may think, it was a pivotal moment in your way to understanding your wife and what makes her tick. And here comes another. Do you know what a slave contract is Steve?"

"Something your carrier makes you sign in order to get the latest iPhone?"

"Hardy har har. Very funny. No here is the deal -- when I accept the servitude of a girl, she is required to sign a slave contract with me. This contract is essentially proof of mastery over her, and it is a transferable document. Meaning that you can buy and sell it."

"You have such a contract with Ruth?"

"Yes."

"And you are offering it to me?"

"That would effectively make you her master and thus solve all your problems."

"But how would Ruth feel about that idea? I have the impression that she likes fucking around with her Johns and I don't have a luxurious estate. She may not honor the sale."

"Oh, I can guarantee that she will," M said with emphasis. "This document is an essential part of her belief. It's like a birth certificate for her new life. She will follow that contract as if she was tied to it with invisible strings."

"Lucky for her you didn't sell it to an astronaut or a deep sea diver. But let us pretend that I accept. What is the going rate for slaves these days? How much would I need to cough up?"

"The price of a contract depends on the classification of course."

I must have looked confused because he continued to explain.

"Slaves are classified according to how attractive they are to own. Motoko for instance is A-plus because she is young, exotic, very beautiful and highly motivated. Kathleen here is an A. She is pretty and still in her best age, but she is also very intelligent and has a considerable earning potential that will remain consistent all the way to retirement. Ruth used to be an A as well, but because she has passed her fortieth birthday I will put her as a B today."

"And how does that translate into dollars and cents?"

"I always deal in round figures. An A is around hundred K... add an extra twenty if she's a plus. B-slaves I would let go for sixty K a piece."

"So Ruth will be a cool sixty-thousand dollars. Do you realize how utterly insane this whole concept sounds? You seriously want to sell my own wife to me for sixty thousand dollars? That is wrong on so many levels I can't even begin to list them all. We could begin with the United Nations Human Rights Declaration."

M just shrugged.

"You may not like the sound of it Steve, but I am giving you an option to consider. And as far as I can tell, it's your ONLY option if you want your wife back in a manner you can live with. Unless you take her home as her master, she will never be fully yours and you will never have that loyalty you crave. Even if I order her to go with you and never come back, you will be forced to live with the knowledge that another man holds power over her. Because if you don't somebody else will. It's in her nature. She's simply wired that way."

*******

Later, as I was back in bed listening to Motoko's rhythmic breathing, my mind kept revolving around that friggin slave contract.

The money was not a problem. It was a serious chunk of change for sure, but I could cash out my retirement or mortgage the house. Either option would net me two hundred thousand easily. But the principle was abhorrent. I mean seriously? Buying Ruth's loyalty? Is loyalty worth anything if you gotta buy it? This shit felt mostly like an extortion scheme to be honest. Like paying off the pimp to get my wife out of prostitution. Somehow the whole thing just didn't sit right with me.

I had to talk to Ruth about this, and there was no time like the present so I attempted to shake Motoko awake.

"Master? What..." she mumbled without opening her eyes.

"Where does Ruth sleep? Do you know?"

"Next to the pool room."

"What is her room number?"

"I don't know master. The lamp next to the door is broken. It's the door with the broken lamp."

"Is she alone?"

"Yes. We don't sleep with clients."

"Thank you Motoko."

"Master..." she mumbled and drifted back to sleep.

It was way past midnight so I managed to make it to the poolroom without bumping into anybody. A good thing, considering that M would be seriously pissed if I was caught violating his explicit instructions to not interfere with Ruth's work. There were cameras all over the place of course, but at this hour they were most likely going directly to a recorder, so I ignored them. Just like Motoko had said, the light was out next to one of the doors, and I sent a silent prayer of thanks to the God of lazy maintenance workers.

It was a breeze breaking in by sliding my pocketknife between the door and the frame and push back the bolt. The door swung open without a sound, and like I had hoped, the thick luxurious carpet conveniently muffled my steps as I sneaked into the bedroom in search of Ruth. If it wasn't her room after all, I was prepared to make a hasty retreat.

As it turned out, it was indeed her room but unfortunately she wasn't alone. Ape-man was asleep next to her, snoring like a friggin sawmill. I guessed he was drunk as a skunk... a skunk in a Ron Jeremy costume.

I was just about to abort the mission and slink away, when I remembered the medical cabinet in my own bathroom. Maybe all the rooms had one? Bingo. Apparently they did. I scanned the inventory and settled on a fast-acting propofol-based sedative. The drunk Ape-man didn't even flinch when I pushed the thin hypodermic needle into his thigh and injected a dose I hoped would put his ass into a deep sleep for a while without killing him. I needed him out of commission for my upcoming marital conference.

After about five minutes of waiting to make sure the sedative had taken effect, I rolled him out of bed and let him fall. He didn't even miss a snore when he hit the carpet, so I guessed the stuff worked. I left him there -- rugs belong on the floor after all - and climbed onto the bed.

Ruth was sleeping on her stomach, like she often did when she had something to drink. It was amazing how the sight of her slim body still did it for me after so many years. I felt my cock rising in homage and so inspired I carefully pulled the blanket aside to get a better look.

The telltale wet area between her legs left no room for misunderstandings. Ape-man had been there first. Shit!

There was no friggin way I was having the dude's sloppy seconds, but luckily Ruth was on her stomach anyway so there was a second option. I grabbed the Astroglide from the drawer next to the bed, lubed up my cock and slowly pushed it inside Ruth's ass. She moaned a little and mumbled something about "Archie" and "insatiable." I pushed my cock all the way inside and whispered right next to her ear: "Sorry Ruthie. No Archie here."

That woke her up.

"Steve! What are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious? I'm fucking your ass."

"And Archie? Oh no honey. What did you do to poor Archie?"

"Hairball? The dog pound picked him up a while ago. He's on Alpo now and will be put down tomorrow."

"STEVE!"

"Relax Ruthie. He's on the floor with the rest of the rugs, passed out. Which is perfect because we need to talk."

"What you're doing right now doesn't exactly feel like a conversation."

"Do you want me to stop what I am doing?"

She hesitated for a split second before answering.

"We really should. It's against Masters orders you know."

"And you do know that I don't give a shit, right?"

She shivered and made a small moan. My loving wife was beginning to enjoy herself. Good, that made two of us. I started going a little harder and faster.

"Anyway, M has to do with what I wanted to talk to you about Ruthie."

"If you want to talk, then how come you are... ugh... fucking my ass?"

"Because there is no better way of ensuring that you have peoples full and undivided attention than fucking their ass. You should see me at board meetings."

"Well, you've got my attenti... ohhh... for sure. So please don't stop."

I smiled to myself. This was my Ruth the way I knew her and loved her.

"Great. So lets talk about slave contracts. M has offered to let me buy yours. What is your take on that?"

"He has? He must really have... uhhh yes... confidence in you. That sounds great, if we can afford it. You would be master then."

"But you must realise that it would mean the end of your little call girl business? That issue in not up for discussion. You know that."

"It will end soon anyway Steve... Ohhh, that feels good! Sorry.... Where was I? Oh yeah, I'm pushing forty-five and I'm already working super hard to maintain my looks. I can't keep fighting off age and gravity forever."

"I see. So what's the deal with Ape-man by the way? I thought you didn't sleep with your clients? As in actual sleep."

"Archie is special to me. He was my first assignment with Master and... oh yes.... uhhh.... I have known him since before I was married. He's like a dad to me... or an uncle... a really good friend. I can tell him everything. You will like him too."

"I sincerely doubt that."

"He is a good man Steve."

"Who has cuckolded me during my entire marriage, shared a level of confidence and intimacy with my wife far beyond what I myself ever enjoyed and he knew all about your double life while I was kept in the dark."

"I couldn't tell you without... ohh... can you get a little deeper? Yeah, like that! Anyway, I couldn't tell you about Archie without jeopardising my life with you and the kids. You would never have accepted any of it."

"And you think I will now?"

"We are both older and wiser Steve. We can work through this. Now do your husbandly duty and make me cum please. "

And I did.

After Ruth was done squeezing every last drop of Steve-juice out of my cock with her powerful rectum, I held on to her for a moment enjoying the familiar closeness. We shared a final kiss and as she drifted back to sleep I snuck out of the room.

I made a visit to the maintenance locker nearby and returned with a bottle of general-purpose glue, which I proceeded to pour over Archie, who was still sprawled on the floor like a mouldy bear-rug. I put on the finishing touch by rolling him over so he was now being glued to the carpet. The glue should be hardened before he woke up.

"Thanks for two decades of cuckolding you nasty-ass hairball," I growled and left.

This time I let the door slam shut behind me.

Motoko was sleeping when I got back - seemingly in the same position that I left her in. But as soon as I had undressed and slipped into bed next to her, she sat up like a spring-activated bear trap.

"Master? Master? Oh... sorry... I had a bad dream. I dreamt you weren't here."

"Where else would I be Motoko?" I replied and put an arm around her.

She sighed contentedly and we both drifted off into the domain of Morpheus.

**********

Saturday went by in a blur with me getting introduced to more of the many wonders of M's luxurious mansion.

Motoko stuck to my side like an appendage all day and evening, displaying a degree of vigilance that made me suspect that M had emphasised her instructions to keep me on a tight leash. I managed to avoid ever seeing Ruth or Ape-man, which I also suspected was by M's design rather than pure coincidence.

Maybe pouring glue on Ape-man had been a bad idea?

Naah, c'mon. I did the guy a favour. A good back waxing ain't cheap these days and he got it for free. Plus Ruth now had a rug beside her bed made of genuine man-fur. Her own little piece of Archie to nuzzle her feet when she got out of bed in the morning. A win-win for everybody.

I couldn't help myself. I busted out laughing at the thought.

"What amuses you so master?" Motoko enquired curiously.

"It's nothing. I'm just a hair-brain today."

But like I said, it was a good day to be me.

After a gourmet breakfast and a morning blowjob we went to the spa and massage room and spent a few hours getting pampered to the max. Then I watched Motoko do her daily exercise routines outside in the park. It was impressive to behold and it also made me horny as hell.

Yeah, I have a thing for sweaty girls exercising. Got a problem with that?

Naturally we didn't let my horniness go to waste and had sex behind a group of bushes, generating even more sweat. After showering together we relaxed in the hot tub and subsequently watched an old samurai flick in the theater. Motoko turned out to be somewhat of a movie buff -- especially regarding sci-fi.

Naturally I had to give her the ultimate test.

"Who shot first? As your master I command you to answer honestly."

"Han," she replied without hesitation.

As I said before: What a gal!

Saturday evening I had dinner with M and Kathleen again -- this time with Motoko by my side -- but as opposed to the previous day the conversation was casual and light-hearted. I did my best to be nice and M didn't mention my part in Ape-man's back waxing. However right before we left for what would turn out to be yet another lengthy session of great sex with my beautiful and horny slave-girl I had a quick word with him.

"Regarding the contract, let's do it. How about tomorrow before I leave?"

M nodded solemnly and we shook hands on it.

As odd as it may sound, I no longer felt like killing him on the spot. Not that he didn't deserve it for his part in wasting the best twenty years of my life, but I had come to realise that his demise would hurt the girls too. They were living in some sort of screwed up symbiosis and you couldn't take out one without fucking up the other.

Apart from the very real risk of leaving my kids without a dad if I went to prison, my petty personal revenge for my hurt pride was not worth that kind of collateral damage. If so, I would be no better than M and I wouldn't live with that taint on my conscience. Yeah, sometimes being a man means doing what's right and control your impulses.

**********

Sunday morning marked the end of my stay at M's mansion and thus the strangest weekend I had ever experienced.

It was time for me to get back to the real world and get on with the rest of my life. For the past twenty years I had worn the blinders put on me by M and my wife, but the events of the past week -- and the weekend especially -- had cleared my vision completely. I was now seeing the whole picture and would be able to take control of my own destiny.

It was a bittersweet feeling though, because much against expectations I had mostly had a great time in the mansion and I had gotten to know a couple of people I would miss having around. Like feisty redhead Kathleen, with an IQ the size of the national deficit and a temper that could send Clint friggin Eastwood running for cover. Or my assigned slave-girl Motoko -- impossibly beautiful, yet an insatiable she-devil in bed. With her, hot sex was messy but as out of this world as the rest of her. And of course I can't forget to mention mademoiselle Monique -- Florence Nightingale and resident horse tamer and possibly the most boring lay I had had since before I got married. But she was a sweet girl and I liked her.

I could mention several others -- busty blonde German guest-slave Helga from the massage team or the strange tattooed lesbian goth girl who joined us in the hot-tub and immediately started making out with Motoko. Even the field of volcanology doesn't have the word to describe how hot that was to watch.

Yeah, I was gonna miss this place a little.

While Motoko was busy packing my stuff, I took a moment to enjoy one last view from the large panorama window in my room. It was overlooking the courtyard and judging from the luxury cars and limos that kept pulling up down below I wasn't the only guest returning to the real world on this Sunday morning. I noticed Motoko grabbing my packed suitcase and dragging it towards the door and I immediately rushed over and took it from her.

A slave she might have been, but there had to be certain limits. Killing spiders and carrying heavy stuff would always be a man's job as far as I was concerned.

M was waiting for us in the lobby with some paperwork as we had agreed. I signed as buyer on the dotted line with an honest to God fountain pen -- yeah, these guys were really big on ceremonial stuff -- and while M put down his own John Hancock I went on-line with my MacBook and facilitated the payment.

When I was done M stood ready to formally hand me the contract. I received it together with a thunderous applause from at least thirty girls assembled in the lobby. I felt like I was inaugurating a building or signing a treaty or something.

"My apologies for the ruckus," M said apologetic. "I haven't sold a contract for fifteen years so I guess the girls see it as a big deal. The gossip mill has been churning."

I spotted Ruth walking around hugging and kissing her "colleagues," but just then M pulled me aside.

"Listen Steve. I know you bought this particular contract in order to secure your own marriage, but slaves can generate a pretty good income as well. Just like you can purchase a business on credit and pay it off later with future profits, slaves can be purchased on similar conditions. It's a good way of achieving critical mass for a business without requiring a prohibitively large initial investment."