Slave's Choice to Surrender Choices

They would practice all sorts of positions and maneuvers, some of which Claire realized required as much imagination as flexibility to undertake. Delphi took a very logistical approach to the lessons, endlessly adjusting Claire's position or hip movements. They practiced on dense pillows or cushioned furniture, poor representations but good enough to teach the concepts. Claire had some experience with sex, but it was limited to a few previous boyfriends and flirtations, nothing as intimidating or exotic as her new Master. At one point, Claire embarrassingly asked if they would use any toys or devices to practice, but Delphi just rose her eyebrow and told her in no uncertain terms that nothing was to enter her without a Master's instruction. Similarly, she was not to pleasure herself unless also instructed. As a slave, her body belonged to Master Montrose, not her or Delphi, and as such, neither had the right to use it outside of the simple training.

By the time Delphi had finished with her, Claire was both confident and proficient enough to begin her service as a full fledged member of the house. It seemed like a lifetime had passed, but finally the day came when she graduated her unique training.

That morning, Claire lay on the thin carpet in her blank room, sleeping curled in a naked heap of smooth limbs and peaceful breaths. In the silent quarters, she awoke with a smile. She twisted slowly, stretching a bit before resting in a kneeled position at the center of the room. A few minutes later, Delphi entered through the heavy door. Each day, she would come in and hand her the plain off-white garments to wear until they went to the dressing room to choose an outfit for the day. Today, however, she entered empty handed, except a small candle she held tenderly in her hands. Claire was confused, but she stayed silent and still, pondering the meaning of the change in her drilled routine.

"Stand," Delphi said firmly, no trace of her usually soft and patient demeanor remaining. Claire obeyed, mind racing.

"Follow," her mentor ordered just as roughly. Claire wondered if this was it, if she had somehow messed up, and now she would be disgraced and removed. She kept her eyes down, tears barely held back as Delphi led her from the room with a series of one word orders barked with a hardened, angry tone. "Straighten. Wash. Follow. Stop. Kneel."

After being paraded through the house naked and demeaned, Claire was ordered to the ground in the courtyard that she had first met the red haired maiden. By then, her eyes were so downcast, that tears welled and threatened to fall straight from her lids.

"Eyes up," the low voice was clear, and though she had heard it only once, Claire instantly recognized it as Master's. She quickly obeyed and realized that the courtyard was lined with familiar faces she had seen around the house. Delphi set the candle she had been carrying in front of her, the long stick wobbling a bit before settling just in front of Claire's trembling knees. She should have felt shame or disgrace, sitting naked in front of the perfectly silent crowd, but her entire energy was fixated on Master's piercing gaze. She hoped that whatever she had done could be remedied somehow, even if she had to beg and whimper in front of all these people. Her new life, one controlled and directed so precisely, was addicting in a primal sort of way. She could not imaging going back to the chaos she once believed to be a full life, the brash choices, the pointless efforts, all tipping on her uneducated whim.

Claire kept her pleading eyes locked with the dark browns that stared her down, but studied what lay in her peripheral. A blazing cauldron burned to her right, fire twirling into the air brighter than the morning light. To her left was a dim pinprick of light from a dying candle, barely flickering in a remnant of wax.

Finally, Master's low voice spoke again, "Why don't you wish to join this house?"

Claire could not hide the confusion on her face. Ever since the night of the party, she had decided that this was to be her life. She had committed heart, mind, and body to it and him. The yearning was thick in her voice when she responded shakily, "Master, I want nothing more than to be here and with you, from now until forever."

He rose an eyebrow, "Yet you quiver before the eyes of your would be family, as if there is shame to be had." His words were slow and deliberate, with a challenge thick in his tone.

Claire stuttered our a desperate reply, "I only fear that I have wronged you, and that you will not have me."

"If you were committed, there would be no fear," he answered plainly.

Claire struggled to understand, finally breaking his gaze and looking at her hands that shook in front of her. She was committed. How could she have lasted these weeks if she had not been? How could she sit here, naked and alone in the eyes of so many, without fear? Then something clicked in her mind, a realization that set the definition of her own position in her racing mind.

The shaking hands in front of her stilled, as they were not hers, nothing was. Her mind and body no longer belonged to her. Claire looked up with a peace in her heart, "There is no shame or fear of what is yours, Master. I revel in the fact that I am a precious part of your household."

Master's face slowly opened into a bright smile, "Then take your light," he motioned to the dying candle to her left, "and join it with my fire."

Claire took the candle Delphi had left her and stood. She slowly walked over and lit the tender wick from the tiny pinprick of flame. As soon as the candle in her hand took flame, it's source flickered out. The little flame was all that remained of her, a small dancing spirit of chaos and warmth. Carefully, she strode over to the cauldron of fire, the bright light radiating off of it and heating her bare skin. Without hesitation, she tossed the tiny candle into the flame, and it instantly evaporated in the burning heat, melting to join the oily pool in the flames.

Master's voice bellowed in triumph, "And as such, Claire has joined my house. Now take your place, slave, for you have earned it." As soon as his words ended, every person in the crowd cheered so loudly that Claire jumped, smiling in excited happiness as the hoard of people lifted her bare body into the air with dozens of hands.

———————

After the Ceremony, Claire saw very little of Delphi. The crimson haired girl's presence had become a significant part of Claire's routine, but much changed as well during the next few days. The young girl she had seen with Master at the party had left the estate shortly after Claire's Ceremony. Her name was Jolene, and she had left to head the household of a new Mistress. Before she had gone, Jolene had wished Claire the best, climbing into the limousine with a look of sadness in her eyes.

Claire quickly took over Jolene's position, becoming Master Montrose's personal slave, a honor she cherished whole heartedly. Delphi's training paid huge dividends, as the intricacies of life at Master's side were complex and required a keen mind to keep track of. On the estate, etiquette was more intimate, and her postures and actions had to reflect this. When not actively following a command, she would kneel quietly, eyes down, until she was summoned. In public, she would follow his lead more subtlety, eyes up and alert. She had to project the same authority and presence as Master around outsiders, but still be close and willing to meet his needs.

After several weeks of faithful and flawless servitude, Claire had still not been asked to lay with Master. Some days, he would ask her to sit beside him on the couch, allowing her to cuddle against his firm chest. These times were intoxicating, often leaving her warm and almost purring in his hold. He would stroke her leg in thought, always silent, as if the contact was an outlet to help his mind clear, like a fidget toy. Regardless, Claire longed for his touch always and had to hold back from leaping into his arms when he finally called her to him those days.

The urge to pleasure him more deeply ground inside Claire's chest like two coarse stones, her raw desires begging her to sate the hunger that clawed inside, but she held it at bay, knowing it was forbidden to touch herself without his consent. Despite her sexual fast, Master's presence still excited her. Every day she would awaken and make the preparations, longing pouring from her soul as she waited, kneeled, for him to emerge from his slumber to guide her for the day.

After one long but productive day, Master called her over while he shuffled through some papers in his study. Claire effortlessly lifted herself from the floor in a practiced flourish, gliding across the carpet silently until she stood across the desk from him.

"We will be having company tonight," he said, his velvet tone filling the silent room.

Claire nodded, "I will inform the kitchen staff. Will it be a large group, Master?"

"No," he replied, not looking up, "A few colleagues for poker, probably a couple of their slaves who will arrive early. Make sure to eat something before they arrive, I expect the game to run late."

"Yes, Master."

Finally, he looked up. Claire could feel his gaze on her, even with her eyes downcast. He was silent for a while before adding one last thing, "Come to the dressing room after you eat. I need you as... distracting as possible tonight."

Claire bowed, "Yes, Master." With that, she left, obeying his directions.

——————-

The carpet in the dressing room was thick and plush, more so than most of the house, padding Claire's bare knees as she knelt. Her simple light clothes from the day lay in a neat, folded pile in the corner, and the air chilled her bare skin as she waited undressed for Master to come. The cool air was broken slightly by the warmth that touched her breasts from the bright lights of the makeup table. She had already touched up her face a bit, but left her natural completion mostly uncovered, as Master preferred.

Claire's calm state was shaken when Master entered, already dressed in a fine suit, a bow tie hanging undone around his neck. He wasted no time before speaking clearly and firmly, "Firstly, for the rest of tonight, I want your eyes up and observant."

Claire immediately complied, looking up to meet his gaze with her sapphire stare.

"Good," he continued, "I want you to be watching as closely as I. There is much to be learned of men at a poker game, Master and slave. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, I need you to tie this infernal bow." His voice was humorous, but with a hint of frustration. Claire smiled and rose, standing on her toes to wrap the silk material. Before she had come here, she had no idea how to fold a tie, but Delphi had made her do it until she could tie one in the dark, saying with some humor that it was one of Master's few shortcomings.

When she finished, he glanced in the mirror, examining her work while she returned to her kneeling pose, "Perfect." His compliment made flutters swirl in Claire's stomach, and she allowed herself a small grin. She waited patiently while he sorted through the walls of outfits, taking longer than Delphi would have, but eventually settling on a good choice. In no time, Claire had adorned herself with the delicately thin material that Master had chosen. He walked her to the mirror, and Claire had to stifle a look of awe.

The dress was not one she had worn before, a deep blue that matched her entrancing eyes perfectly. The material wrapped around her neck and across her round breasts, leaving her shoulders and back uncovered. The material cut just below her rear, threatening to show much of she bent very far at all. The back cut low in a V, only coming together quite low on the small of her back. The material fit snuggly against her skin, showing off every delicate curve and line of her perfectly toned body. In the bright lights from the table, a faint sparkle shimmered from the deep blue.

"Very good," he muttered to her, turning Claire's body around to inspect, letting his hands linger. Everywhere his fingertips touched her, electricity tickled the skin below the thin dress. Once satisfied, he chose some thin stilettos and a few small pieces of jewelry and directed her to follow.

Once they reached the den, Claire saw that the others had already arrived and the game was set up. There were three other Masters at the table: an elder Asian man, a younger blonde about Master Montrose's age, and a middle aged but beautiful Mistress with hard eyes. Behind them were a pair of slaves, a dark skinned man and a girl with short, purple spiked hair. Both were dressed rather formally, but looked plain compared to Claire in her beautiful dress.

"Kind of you to host, Donavan, especially since you are going to lose quite a bit of money as well," the blonde Master's remarks were jovial, but had an unsubtle tone of disrespect that instantly made Claire's lip begin to twitch in sudden anger.

Master's smooth tone quickly subsided her flair of emotion, "Now, Hans, we all know what happened last game, don't we Celeste?"

The Mistress laughed, "That we do."

The Asian Master leaned in impatiently, "Are we here to play or talk. Donavan, if you'd be so kind as to have that get me a drink," he motioned vaguely at Claire. She waited until her Master nodded, sitting while she retrieved the man's request.

"You come alone tonight, Zarek," Master Montrose said, "I rarely see you without escort, even if your slaves do seem to be replaced rather often."

The elder man shrugged, "Melanie became insubordinate. I had to send her back to re-education."

Montrose shook his head, "I've always told you that your tactics are too brutish." Claire set the drink beside the older Master. Her own continued, "Claire here was trained by Delphi, who has had nothing but success through use of mental conditioning, and clear direction. There was no deception or half truths told to her through her training, and there was no need to break her will or harm her body. She developed a desire to serve both through patient instruction, and a choice of her own."

"A choice to surrender choices," Mistress Celeste added with a smirk, "such a beautiful irony."

"But an effective one it seems," Hans said.

Zarek just seemed to ignore them, "I don't have the patience or desire to waste such exuberant amounts of time to let my slaves learn how to be slaves. If I wanted that, I would just buy one of yours and save myself the trouble."

Claire returned to her Master's side, hoping that he would never surrender her to this rough man, though the choice would not be hers to make or debate against if it did come about. Despite the unpleasant man, Claire was proud to be the center of conversation and held so highly.

The game started slowly, hands passing with little change in the piles of colored chips while the different conversations ran on. As instructed, she stayed observant, absorbing as much as her senses would allow. After a while, she began to see patterns in the characters around the table. Perhaps it was from sheer luck, or because of her training that had taught her to be sensitive to unspoken commands, but it started to become clear who was bluffing and who was not. Master seemed to be catching on to the small tells as well, and the game began to shift as more aggressive bets were thrown and challenged.

Hours went by, and Claire watched intently as the battle of wills raged on, only breaking to fetch refreshments when ordered. After a while, the table looked quite different. Unsurprisingly, Master Zarek was out, his hot temper and grumbling making him an easy target to read. Mistress Celeste sat with little less than she started with, and seemed to be content playing rather conservatively, if unsuccessfully. Master Montrose and Master Hans, however, sat in a deadlock on the final round of betting, a massive pile containing most of their collective chips laying between them.

To her surprise, her Master smirked and leaned back, "All in. Match the bet so I can finish this rather entertaining night."

Hans laughed, "You don't have the cards, but I'll make it more interesting." He reached inside his jacket and pulled a small velvet sack out, tossing it in the pile, the jingle of precious stones mixing with the clash of chips, "Match that, and I'll show you my hand."

Claire's master rolled his eyes, "Always over the top with you. I don't have that kind of asset here at the estate, but I think I could match it. One night with Claire should do it."

She had to suppress her surprise. Not only was she suddenly promised to this man, but the whole table seemed to agree that a single night of her company matched the value of the sack of diamonds on the table. Hans pondered the deal, debating whether he would accept the offer. Claire felt a tap on the back of her hand, and she immediately read the silent instruction. The tap of her heels echoed through the silence as she walked around the table, approaching the young Master. With deliberate movements, she lowered herself onto his lap, her dress pulling up and setting her bare behind on his leg. His hand immediately went to her thigh, but his eyes stayed on her Master.

Claire looked over to her own Master, imagining what was going through his mind. She reached down and began to rub the blonde man's legs, feeling him stiffen a bit below her. Behind him, Hans slave stared with burning jealousy in her eyes, but remained silent. He seemed to be fighting the urge to take the deal, but could not bring himself to deny the beauty on his lap.

"Fine," he said, throwing his card over to reveal his hand, "I'll enjoy breaking this one on for you." The three of a kind made the two observing Masters look over to Montrose. Without a word, he flipped his cards, showing a full house.

Claire could almost feel Hans' heart drop. Holding back a proud laugh, she knelt down and kissed his cheek, "Perhaps next time," Then rose to return to her Master's side.

Just as she lifted herself from the chair, the door to the den burst open violently, and a man fell inward awkwardly, blood on his forehead. Claire immediately recognized the injured man as one of the estate's guards. Behind him, two masked men ran in with handguns up and masks on their faces. Without hesitation, one of them shot the dark skinned slave in the side, collapsing him to the ground. Claire instinctively ran in front of her Master, but was brutally smacked with the butt of a pistol, falling to the ground dazed. The Masters at the table looked surprised and angry. Montrose stood defiantly, eyeing one of the men.

The two attackers held their weapons level and began to bark orders, "Jewelry, cash, diamonds. In the bag." The second man tossed a brown backpack, but it just smacked her Master's chest and fell. Claire lifted her head in fear, terrified of what these men would do to her defiant Master. One of the masked intruders just chuckled, and quickly swung the gun into the side of Montrose's head, knocking him against the table.

Rage and fury boiled in Claire's chest, and she lifted herself from the ground. The men seemed to pay her no attention, so she took three quick steps, shedding her heels. As she walked, she grasped a glass pitcher from the wet bar. With a adrenaline fueled cry, she smashed the glass over the lead man's head brutally, collapsing him to the floor. As she did, Hans leapt up and punched the other man in the cheek heavily. The two man hit the ground, but the one Hans hit stumbled somewhat upright again, swinging his gun around.

Looking up from the ground, he saw Hans standing beside the table, fists clenched but eyeing the swinging gun. Smacking his partner, he reached toward the table for the sack of diamonds. Claire leapt onto the table between the masked man and her Master, brandishing the handle of the broken pitcher that still held razor shards. Her face contorted into a growl, blood dripping down her face where she had been struck. It was a terrifying sight, and the man abandoned the idea of approaching further, deciding to kick his stirring friend and dragging him from the room in retreat, still swinging the gun.