Mistress Kathy's Slave Catalog Ch. 04

When the Countess entered, Adam did not know at first who she was. He would not have imagined she could be so young.

"Countess!" blurted Zana. She climbed off Adam and knelt before her mistress. "I did not expect you back so soon."

"That is self-evident," seethed the Countess with the Mediary now by her side. "I arrived early and was eager to greet the new arrival. We trusted you to train him. Is this how you repay our trust? By molesting him before he's even been initiated?"

"I'm sorry, Countess," said Zana. "I-I don't know what came over me."

"Enthusiasm I can forgive," said the Countess, approaching Adam where he lay on the mattress. "It's harder to forgive a subordinate who samples one of my toys before I've had a chance to unwrap him." She leaned over Adam—who had rolled onto his side to release the pressure on his bound arms. She rolled him back so she could admire his erection.

"But Countess," pleaded Zana. "After you've had him, he won't be able—"

"Silence!" shouted the Countess, standing and glowering over her slaves. "I will tolerate none of your lies." She turned to the Mediary. "Gag Zana. Release the bootlicker and chain Zana in her place."

"It shall be done, Countess," said the Mediary.

The Mediary put a gag on Zana and ordered her to release Chrissy, the naked woman chained to the wall. The "bootlicker" stuck out her tongue at Zana.

"Help him to his feet," the Countess ordered Chrissy.

She complied. Adam thanked her, but it was the Countess who said, "You're welcome," as though Chrissy were not there.

Adam was embarrassed by their stares and turned away. The Countess—with an insistent hand—forced him to face her, being fascinated by his rigid member.

"Chrissy," said the Countess, "help the Mediary in the kitchens. I will take the man-slave back to my room to greet him properly."

The Countess gestured for Adam to lead them out of the room.

He stepped into the hall, nearly bumping into a chesty woman in a tight v-neck sweater. The woman's businesslike attire was an odd match for the rifle slung around her neck.

"Countess," said the armed woman. "The castle is nearly secure."

"Only nearly?" asked the Countess.

"I have inspected each new acquisition in the castle," explained the woman, "except that one." She nodded to Adam. "I shall conduct a cavity search at once."

The Countess turned to Adam. "As you can see, my bodyguard is very efficient," she explained. "Thank you, Sara, but I will take care of that myself."

"As you wish, Countess." The gun-toting woman looked a little disappointed as the Countess led Adam away.

"Don't worry, sweet slave," assured the Countess. "Her weapon is loaded with tranquilizer darts—usually."

With restraints on his knees, he needed assistance from the Countess to make his way back up the stairs.

Once in her room, the she reached for an intercom which he hadn't noticed was there. "Mediary, inform me when we hear from our guests."

"Yes, Countess," the voice answered.

Adam was afraid of what would happen next, so the Countess's next words surprised him.

"I must apologize for how they've treated you. They've behaved shamefully."

That's all right, he almost said, but stopped himself. It wasn't all right, and why was she being nice to him?

"I'm getting accustomed to that kind of attention," he said at last.

"My poor, dear slave," said the Countess. "You must be terribly confused about what's happening to you."

Adam considered his next words carefully. "I suppose I am. I have no idea where I am. I didn't know places like this existed."

"They do," she said sadly, "though they are rare, and always remote. They exist where the affluent have such influence that no one can make them feel shame. They exist where people like myself can act on any whim without question. In such places, terribly wicked things can happen for ages without notice."

She walked to the French doors and pulled aside the gauze curtains, revealing a menacing view of jagged mountains.

"This castle was once an outpost to defend our land, but it has long ago been repurposed to hold my family's dark secrets. It has become a playground for our most indolent and depraved fantasies—hidden from the view of common folk."

"If I may say so, Countess, you're not what I was expecting."

"Why, what do you mean?"

"Well, I've been hearing . . . ," Adam hazarded, and floundered. He realized he should choose his next words with more care. "I've heard that you have a certain grudge against . . ."

"Men?" she asked. "Is that my reputation? That I hate men?"

"Mistress Kathy said—"

"You would believe that slut over me?"

"Forgive me for speaking out of turn, mistress, madam—Countess." He sensed he could be very close to losing a limb, but continued on. "There was some discussion about you renting slaves and returning them," he ventured, afraid that it was too late to stop, "broken."

"Yes," she said, "because of my cruel and insubordinate servants! You've seen how they are! Vicious and deceitful! All of them! When I'm away, they practice their cruelty on each other—especially upon the men! What terrible things you must think about me! I've begun to think this castle should be torn down and this whole dreadful practice ended."

Adam thought he saw a tear in her eye.

"But it's not as easy as that," she continued. "My family is powerful and set in their ways. They would never allow it to happen. And the Assembly! They have members in more countries than you know. This castle is their favorite haven for their debauchery! I would have to answer to them as well."

"If you feel that way," asked Adam, "why do you rent slaves at all?"

"Because the Royal Dominance Assembly demands it! They say I must be indoctrinated in all of their perverted ways. But when I saw your image on my device, you reminded me of a man I once fancied—a nobleman whom I once hoped to spend my life with. It was not to be. A woman in my position may not marry whom she wants, but must put affairs of the state above her own desires.

"Oh my poor slave, if you only knew what my life was like. Meetings and diplomatic functions and a loveless marriage that I can have no say in! This castle is the only place I have any real power! This is the only place I can escape the awful reality of my life!"

In any other circumstance, with any other woman, Adam would have felt compelled to put his arm around her. Instead, he found himself wondering if it would be polite to mention his armbinder.

"Back at the hotel," he said, "in the showroom, there was a woman I knew. A slave named Eve. Do you know what happened to her?"

"No," she said. "Why? Was she important?"

"No reason," he quickly added. If the Countess knew nothing of Eve, there was no point in saying more.

"Forgive me," said the Countess, wiping her eye. "It's been a long and tiring day." She smiled at him, and Adam was again surprised by how beautiful she was. "Now you are here. And I'm here. And I had almost forgotten why I brought you up to my room in the first place." She stared at him with frightening enthusiasm.

She picked up a pair of garments from the dressing table. "To give you your uniform," she said sweetly. "You must be properly dressed for tonight's event."

She set the garments on the bed and found a set of keys in her purse. She unlocked the padlocks on his restraints and removed them.

On the bed were a long-sleeved white tee and a pair of long black pants, both made of tight-fitting spandex. The pants had open panels down the length of each side across which a string had been laced through grommets like a shoe.

"Is there an undergarment?" he asked.

The Countess giggled. "No," she said. "That is not the custom for a castle slave."

Adam put the garments on. While the outfit was more modest than he had been expecting, it was also form-fitting and kinky, leaving his sides entirely exposed between the laces. He hoped she wouldn't comment on how he looked.

"You wear your uniform well," she complimented.

As he feared, her approving stare made it necessary to readjust the contents of his spandex. The uniform had been cunningly designed to make him feel exposed even where he wasn't.

"You're self-consciousness is adorable," she teased. "I hope you do well tonight. Did Zana give you any actual training, or just good fluff?"

"We read the slave manual," said Adam. "But only part of it."

"That document was written to confuse you," she said. "The important part concerns the details of the initiation ceremony. Much will depend on the impression you make on the women of the Assembly tonight. Their scrutiny may be . . . intense."

"I will do my best."

"Let us see." The Countess stepped into her walk-in closet and emerged with a crop which she playfully demonstrated on the palm of her hand. "They will try to intimidate you." She held the crop between his legs, applying gentle pressure under his crotch—motivating him to pay attention. "Do you know the proper way to present a wine glass?" she asked.

"Yes," he said nervously. "I hold the stem. Touching the bowl of the glass may raise the temperature of the wine."

"What is the RDA?"

"The Royal Dominance Assembly."

"What is it called when your forearms are tied to your shins?

"A crab tie."

"Who outranks a functionary in the slave hierarchy?"

"Only the Mediary."

"You're doing extremely well," she complimented. She lowered her crop and placed a gentle hand on the side of his face. "I'm pleased. Would you like something to drink?"

"Thank you, Countess, but I shouldn't."

She swatted him on the ass. "Incorrect," she reminded him. "I just offered you a gift."

The Countess has a painful way of being helpful, he thought.

Rubbing his backside, he remembered the correct response. "I am beneath you and unworthy of such generosity," he quoted from the slave manual. "I shall accept only if it pleases you."

The Countess pressed call on the intercom. "Yes, Countess?" asked a voice.

"Two glasses of Chablis," she commanded.

"At once, Countess."

She turned toward Adam. "Any offer of a gift—no matter how small—must be accepted graciously and at once. Remember you are always being judged. And they will try to take you off your guard. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Countess."

She continued to quiz Adam until one of the maid slaves arrived with two glasses of wine—each grasped by the stem. The slave knelt before the Countess and presented the glasses to her. The Countess accepted the wine and dismissed the slave. She gave one of the glasses to Adam.

"I will cherish this gift more than I can say," said Adam in the manner he had learned, "and I am dumbfounded by your inexplicable kindness."

"I am glad you like it," said the Countess as she sat down on the bed. "Sit and be comfortable."

Adam looked for the nearest chair.

"It is very comfortable on the bed," she added. With her free hand, she indicated where she intended for him to sit.

"I would not wish to spill wine on your bed," he explained.

"There are some risks slaves are expected to take," she countered.

He sat next to her, and they sipped wine. He turned toward her, but when his eyes met the intensity of her stare, he focused again on the wine.

"How does it taste?" she asked.

"It's very good," he complimented.

"A slave should be more gracious than that. Tell me how much you love my wine."

"Um, it's the best I've ever tasted. I will cherish the memory of this wine for days—weeks. Years."

"Better," she admitted. "Be that gracious to our guests tonight, and you will do well." She looked at what remained in her own glass and drained it. "Hold this," she commanded, giving him her empty glass.

Holding a glass in each hand meant he could hold nothing else.

She repositioned herself behind him and moved her hand up and down his back.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Intimidating you," she teased. "You should be drinking your wine. Your glass is so full, you might spill it." She gave him a little push, causing the wine to wobble near the top of his glass.

He drank it. He wasn't exaggerating when he said it was good.

"I feel like I should set these empty glasses down," he said.

"Yes," she agreed. "And you should close the door. I was going to take a nap, but now that you are with me, I find I am not tired." She smiled mischievously. "I shall continue your training. In the top drawer of my dresser, you will find devices with which you should be familiar. Bring me two sets of cuffs."

Adam hesitated. "Two?"

"You have two arms, and my bed has two posts with which to anchor them."

Despite the Countess's kind words, this was a moment he wanted to delay. He tried to think of something to say, but thought of nothing.

The Mediary appeared in the open doorway. "Pardon me, Countess, but you asked to be informed when we heard from our guests. They've called to say that they are early. They'll be here momentarily."

"Damn! They do this all the time!"

She rose angrily from the bed. "We will be acquainted later," she told Adam curtly. "Mediary, take the man-slave to the kitchens. I need to change before my guests arrive."

He breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

The Mediary escorted Adam to the kitchens where final preparations were being made for a banquet. He joined the other new arrivals for a last-minute lecture from the Mediary about what would be expected of them at the initiation ceremony.

She was still talking when the slave he'd first met in the bedroom, the red-haired French maid with cuffed elbows, emerged from the main foyer and made muffled sounds at them. Her gagged mouth still simulated an expression of permanent surprise.

Somehow the Mediary knew exactly what the sounds meant. "The first carriage has arrived," she informed. "Come along so you may greet our guests at the door."

Carriage? Adam hadn't given any thought to how the guests would arrive. If the terrain around the castle were as rugged as it appeared when he glanced outside, the roads wouldn't be passable by car, so a horse-drawn carriage would be the next most comfortable mode of travel.

But who would be driving such a carriage? A slave?

One of the locals, more likely.

The first two guests were already in the foyer chatting with the Countess when Adam and the rented maids arrived to greet them. The guests were pleased to see the new help.

"Look at the poor things," said one of the guests. "They're all so darling!"

"So it's true," said the other guest. "You got someone to loan you another man! I didn't think you could get any more after the last time. What's his name?"

"Funny, I never asked," admitted the Countess as she casually groped Adam's bottom. "I'll just call him Sweetcheeks. It suits him nicely, I think."

Protocol prevented Adam from speaking until someone addressed him directly. No one did.

"Slaves," announced the Mediary, "this is the Duchess Serena, chairwoman of the Royal Dominance Assembly. And her companion is the Baroness Chachka."

The new slaves knelt in a row before their guests. "How may we serve you?" they asked in unison.

"I'd like a Cabernet," said the Baroness to one of the maids. She turned her eyes alluringly to Adam and twirled a finger through her sandy blonde hair. "But first I'd like Sweetcheeks to carry my bag to my room."

"I'll have a Burgandy," said the auburn-haired Duchess, adjusting her glasses to see Adam more clearly. "And I also want Sweetcheeks to carry my bag to my room."

The maids dispersed to perform their tasks. Adam picked up their bags and walked with the Countess and her guests up the stairs. They insisted that Adam walk ahead of them so they could admire his spandex as he ascended the stairs.

Adam deposited their bags in their respective rooms. The guests complemented the Countess on how well he performed this menial task.

"Thank you for your assistance," said the Duchess when they had reached her room. "I have a small token of appreciation for you." She presented him with a small box which she had taken from her purse.

The Countess glared at him meaningfully.

"I am beneath you and unworthy of such generosity," said Adam. "I shall accept only if it pleases you."

"It does," said the Duchess. "Go ahead and open it."

Adam took the box and opened it. He hesitated before taking the gift out of the box and wasn't sure what it was after he had done so.

"It's a g-string," said the Duchess. "When I heard that the Countess had gotten another man-slave, I knew this would be the perfect gift for you."

It looked finely crafted, yet too small to be a garment. What little fabric it contained was held together by narrow gold chains with delicate clasps on either side, and only a single chain down the back.

"It is designed for a man?" he asked tentatively.

"It's daring, isn't it?" said the Duchess. "The front is narrower above than below so it more closely resembles the shape of your genitalia. It's carefully tailored so your shaft can only point up. Isn't that clever?"

Adam glanced nervously at the Countess, then back at her guest.

"I shall cherish this gift more than I can say," he said. "And I am dumbfounded by your inexplicable kindness."

"I'm so glad you like it." She stared at him expectantly. "Well, go on."

The Countess explained to her guest, "He's afraid of offending you with his immodesty." To Adam, she said, "The Duchess knows you can't wait to wear it, so of course you may try it on. In fact, you should wear it at the ceremony so she may see how much you enjoy it."

The thought of fitting into so small a garment seemed unlikely, but protocol offered no way for him to refuse.

"Thank you, Duchess," said Adam.

"Then I'll see you in a few minutes in the dining room," she said, leering at him hungrily.

The Countess led Adam down to a large dining room where a table was being prepared for an elegant dinner. This room, like many others in the castle, had a dual purpose. Special hardware on the walls and ceiling allowed it to serve equally well as a dining room or a bondage playroom.

"I'm going to see how the preparations are going in the kitchen," said the Countess. "The Duchess and the Baroness will be down after they've changed. You may put on your little outfit here."

"In the dining room?"

"Change behind the bar if you're feeling bashful. You'll hurt the Duchess's feelings if you're not wearing it when she arrives, and she seemed particularly eager to see you in it."

The Countess left him alone with the contents of the very small box.

The Duchess was correct about one thing. The garment fit him, but "comfortable" was not the word he would have used. Being naked would have offered a degree of dignity his new gift didn't allow.

The Mediary emerged from the kitchen followed by the maids who were carrying platters of hors d'oeuvres for the dinner table. Adam remained behind the bar.

The Mediary looked at Adam and said, "Why don't you make yourself useful?"

"May I make you a cocktail?" Adam suggested from behind the bar.

"Don't be ridiculous. Come light the candles on the dinner table." She held out a box of long matches for him to use.

Adam emerged reluctantly from behind the bar to accept the matches. At the sight of him, the four rented maids burst into laughter, and even the Mediary could not hide her amusement. Surrendering his dignity, he ignored their taunts and went about his duty.

The Mediary glared at the maids to remind them they also had duties to perform, but she paused to have another glance for herself before leaving.

Before Adam had lit all of the candles, the Duchess and the Baroness entered the room wearing gowns that were as extravagant as they were slutty. The Baroness was carrying a metal container the size of a hat box. She set the container on the table when she noticed Adam lighting the last candle.