Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 15

Hearing the woman being led away, she quickly shoved the papers back into the wall safe. Bundling both lots of slave papers into the same large brown envelope, she went to find the men. Standing at the door, she watched the mother being guided into the back of an ordinary looking white van.

She must have noticed her daughter in there, as her whole body stiffened, and she pushed back with her feet. The two men guiding her, shoved the woman inside. They climbed in after her, and bent over the woman, now lying flat out on the van's floor.

Hollie guessed they were tightly manacling her, as Angela had been. One, then the other climbed out, and started walking toward her. For a moment Hollie felt weak and frail, unable to move. If they decided she was a slave, or closely examined the papers to discover her true status, she would be in trouble.

They were experienced at this sort of thing, and would quickly subdue her. Her heart began racing, wondering if they had seen through her act. She wasn't really a mistress, and certainly not in this important man's home. Did they know him? Was he a well known master, recognised throughout the mysterious world of slavery?

Her hands shook, the movement exaggerated by the envelope she held. If they whisked all three of them away, who would know? She had wiped the list of emails from the computer, detailing the arrangement for them to be trained. How would anyone trace them?

They would be thoroughly trained, broken in as obedient pony-girls, hardly able to remember a previous existence. Each would be sold on to a master, and lost into that particular exclusive world of equine fancy. She would become a pony-girl, living the rest of her life as a thoughtless animal.

Hollie felt faint as they approached, ready to collapse at their feet.

"Are you alright ma'am, you look pale," the young man asked, looking concerned.

"I'll be alright, thank you. It has been a trying few days, with the slaves being so rebellious. They didn't want Cindy to leave. That's why I decided to send both of them, as they were getting so out of hand. I was up late last night securing them, so they didn't make a fuss. They need a firm training regime," she added.

"Don't you fret ma'am, they'll receive the best slave training in the country. We have a second to none reputation for breaking in fillies. They won't be uppity ever again, mark my words, ma'am," he reassuringly smiled.

"I'm forgetting my hospitality, gentlemen. Would you like some refreshments before you leave?" she asked, while fanning her face with the envelope.

"Thank you ma'am, but we have a long trip ahead of us, so the sooner we leave the sooner we'll be home," he said, looking pointedly at the envelope.

"Just one thing, I didn't have a chance to make the planned modifications to slave Cindy. They're in the documentation, but not carried out. If convenient, perhaps you could see to them?" she sweetly asked.

Hollie couldn't help smiling over the thought of Angela being pierced, and branded with a slave number.

"Of course ma'am, it will be a pleasure, all part of the service," he smiled. With the slave documents in his hand, he gallantly saluted, and smartly turned to stride back to the van. His companion climbed in, and she thankfully watched them drive away.

Hollie should have been elated, having exacted her revenge on the torturer. With them both out of the way, it gave her a better chance of escaping. However, she felt guilty over what she had committed them to.

She shuddered at the thought of a harsh pony training regime, where they would be turned into obedient ponies. It wouldn't be so bad, as the master of the house would be back in a couple of days, so they wouldn't suffer for long.

Hollie grabbed the chains with keys, as well as Roger's house key. The taxi pulled up on time and she climbed in, not even glancing back at the dreadful house. The driver treated her like an ordinary person, yet she felt every bit a slave, on a desperate bid for freedom. Little did he know there was such a world, where rich men kept submissive women as their sex pets.

Arriving at Roger's home she undressed, and hung up the clothes in a small hall closet. She chuckled to herself, upon realising how automatically she stripped naked. It hadn't occurred to her to wear underwear, so ingrained was the slave training. The habit would have to be broken, like so many others.

How would it look when taking home a boyfriend for the first time, if in a nervous state she automatically stripped off? She would have to get used to wearing underwear again, before starting a new job. There would be time to recover once away from this world of debauchery, and back in the real world.

She walked through the lounge, on her way to the bedroom to recover her cash. The place was full of erotic memories, bringing with them a nagging feeling of need.

Hollie froze in fear. Someone was in the kitchen, and she was standing there naked, feeling vulnerable and afraid. A shadowy figure appeared in the doorway, which she caught out of the corner of her eye. So afraid, she was unable to move her head around, to see who it was. A sinking feeling gripped her, that this was the end of her bid for freedom.

***

Nathanial usually arranged for a driver, though under the circumstances he thought it best to rent a car. Late at night he sat waiting in a dark corner of a parking lot, becoming impatient. A favour for a friend seemed like a good idea at the time. After a full day of meetings he was too tired to play games, especially a waiting game. If they didn't turn up in the next ten minutes he would leave.

A limousine pulled up beside him, and a familiar face smiled back. They got out and shook hands, while the man looked around nervously.

"Thanks for this, it's much appreciated. I promised to take her on for a couple of weeks, and now I've been called away," he said, giving Nathanial a meaningful look.

Nathanial knew the kind of business the man was in, and how suddenly a deal could develop. There was a time when he looked down on arms manufacturers, and their shady dealings. At the moment he could use some lucrative business to ease his financial difficulties. A reputation for honesty, with high ideals, was a definite disadvantage these days.

"She won't be any trouble. She's been into the scene for some years, so she knows the routine. There's a list of her particular needs in the document. Some expenses too, just in case you need to purchase something special," he said, handing over a well padded envelope.

It was Nathanial's turn to nervously look around. He was aware of colleagues selling confidential information, and had been tempted. This was different, as it was just a favour, for a friend. So why did he feel guilty? Nothing illegal was going on, for he was just looking after someone. The clandestine meeting at a late hour was getting to him. His friend was too used to a discreet rendezvous, so here they were.

When the woman was pulled from the back seat, he saw why it had to be so discreet. He recognised her immediately as a congressman's wife. He had no idea she was into this sort of thing. She wore a gag, and her arms were tightly secured behind her back.

For a moment he wondered if this might be a set up, to blackmail him for information. After all, he was an advisor to an influential committee, and a special envoy. He examined her carefully, as the man roughly shoved her into the back of the rented car. She submitted to his forceful man-handling, indicating the promised experience was true.

Without complaint and without being told, she laid on the back seat. The man covered her with a blanket, and Nathanial was grateful, as he hadn't thought about hiding her. For some reason he thought she would just travel as a passenger, until they got home. If this was an example of how she wanted to be treated, he wondered what was on the list. He just hoped she was a good cook, and would fit into his household without much bother.

While driving he mused over what his wife would say, when bringing home a beautiful blonde. Bridget was his slave, as well as a wife and a mother. She juggled the roles splendidly, especially at important official functions. Everyone thought she was a respectful and devoted wife, not suspecting their relationship at home.

She could be dutiful, and a handful, even when in the role of obedient slave. She was obedient and submissive, up to a point, just so long as she got her way. Having so much experience as a slave, she knew how to manipulate a situation to her advantage.

In any case, it was always difficult introducing a new slave into the household. At one point he had four slaves, including Bridget, and it seemed easier to handle them all. They competed with each other to please him, with good behaviour and obedience.

Having to sell them due to the financial situation had hurt his pride. He found them good homes, with the right masters for their individual needs, despite needing the best price for them. That thought reminded him that a word concerning their spending habits was over due. It would be a painful moment, for they were already disgruntled over their reduced allowances.

Arriving home he helped the woman out of the car, and guided her through the back entrance. With relief he noticed all the lights were off, indicating they were asleep. She tamely followed him to his study. Standing behind her he looked the attractive woman over.

She was a gorgeous sexy woman, and all his to command for the next two weeks. He unfastened the cuffs, noting how tightly they had been locked. Her arms fell to her sides, where she wriggled the fingers to regain some circulation. A discreet movement, revealing how used to being tightly bound she was.

"Get undressed, slave," he fiercely announced. Once naked she stood to attention, still gagged. He undid the straps securing it around her head, and let it fall to her feet. She worked her jaw silently. Satisfied with what he saw, he took a seat at his desk. He noted his daughter had used it, and not put the chair back properly.

He unsealed the envelope to examine the slave documents. He wasn't surprised to see her slave name was as demeaning as her list of accomplishments.

"Well slave, what do you have to say for yourself?" he asked.

"Your slave, Fanny, is here to serve you, Master," Rachael solemnly stated.

She glanced up at him and gasped. "Oh! Nathanial!" she exclaimed.

It was hard to keep a straight face. He wanted to burst out laughing at her reaction. For her sake, as well as his, he would continue with the slave, master relationship. There was no backing out now, and she would realise it in a moment.

She hugged her naked body trying to hide it from him. A completely useless gesture, as he had studied her for the last ten minutes, while reading her ownership papers.

"There must be some kind of mistake," she squeaked.

He watched the lines of panic cross her face, while obviously attempting to think of some excuse, as to why she was standing before him naked.

How in hell did this happen? She had always played her naughty games with strangers, yet here she was with a man she knew. Arrangements had always been made through reliable contacts, who were into the bondage scene. As much as she wanted to hide her sordid secret from this friend of her husband's, there was nothing she could do, except escape into the familiar role of slave.

"Is this the shoddy way you have been trained. It is certainly not the standard of behaviour your master expects from a slave in this home. Assume your position, NOW!" he fiercely demanded.

He watched her face turn a deeper shade of crimson, as she hesitated for a split second. She turned around to bend over from the waist, to present her bottom to him. She reached around to pull her peachy cheeks apart, showing off a gaping asshole. The lips of her pussy protruded between her slim thighs. He watched them become engorged, opening up with a slick film of sex juices.

Without thinking she bent over, assuming her slave position automatically, propelled into it by the commanding tone of voice. It was bad enough displaying her submission in such a demeaning pose to a stranger, but with someone that she would have to entertain at official functions, it was intolerable.

Despite the vileness of the situation she felt her body becoming aroused. It was terribly obvious too. He was an experienced master, so he would know exactly how to keep her in her place. Damn! Up till now the longest she had played around was for a weekend. Why did it have to be him, having control of her for two whole weeks?

He had her slave ownership documents on his desk, and had read through them carefully, as though they were important government papers. They revealed all her wicked secrets. Everything was in there, every little foible, and every nasty depraved need was listed. Shit!

She always provided a list of rules for a naughty weekend, with strict restrictions on her use. If they stepped out of line she would leave. This was different, so bloody awkward, it was an impossible situation to be in. It was vital he kept her secret life away from the public arena, or her husband's career would be ruined. More than ever before, she would be a complete slave, compelled to obey.

The dreadful prospect aroused a deep passion within the dark side of her mind. This man had her at his mercy, and she was painfully aware he would show her none.

Nathanial grabbed a fistful of long blonde hair to drag her to his desk. He pinned the slave over it, with a heavy hand on her back. His penis was already out and upright. From an open jar he fingered grease between her cheeks, roughly pushing a finger into her asshole. Finding it easily enter, he thrust in two fingers, massaging her hole with copious amounts of grease.

Rachael shivered from the abuse, in fright as well as from an intense arousal. Her mind sank into the role of slave, deeper and deeper. Never before had she been so badly used. Feeling his fingers grease her sphincter, confirming what was to come, she whimpered.

When his cock pushed at her greased up bottom, she groaned. "Bugger your slave, master," a thin squeal of submission vibrated from her throat. Hardly recognising her own voice, she continued to whimper from being so debased,

A small part of her mind stood aloof, not experiencing the horrendous ordeal as a slave. She was a congressman's wife, being buggered by her husband's colleague. His cock eased into her asshole, pushing hard up her back passage. It relentlessly filled her body. The deeper it wormed up inside her, the more it enforced her belief that he owned her body. She was just a slave being used by a powerful and forceful master.

***

Her master! Without hesitation Hollie assumed a slave position, hurting her knees as she fell to the floor, prostrate before him. She lifted her head off the floor, and moved into a kneeling position, with legs spread, and head bowed, in abeyance to her master. Without recourse to thought she was ready for him, ready and willing to obey her rightful master.

She was painfully aware of the thoughtless abject fealty. Her eyes became watery from knowing how low she had sunk, ready to satisfy a base need for humiliation through submission. It felt so right before him, so natural to be his willing slave.

She was aware of her body reacting to his presence. Both nipples became engorged around the piercing rings. The sheen of wetness over her smoothly shaven, pierced pussy, revealed a demand for attention, yet she dare not move.

It never ceased to amaze him, how an otherwise perfectly respectable teacher, raised by conservative parents, would voluntarily humble herself so badly. She continued to surprise him with an ever growing need to be dominated and humiliated.

Locked around her neck was the slave collar he had enslaved her with, some weeks ago. Like the shiny steel, unbreakable locked collar, her enslavement to him was just as permanent. He had warned the decision was hers, and was not to be made lightly. She had sworn her devotion to him, and in return he named her Cindy, while locking the collar around her neck.

She knelt before him, with a stream of tears cascading down her cheeks, as she looked up at her master, knowing she was his. Staring into each others eyes confirmed she was his slave, and he was her master.

Roger reached to her, cupping her chin, not wanting her to look down in acquiescence. He wanted to prolong the moment of her complete submission, which was plainly registered on her face. She managed to smile in response to his grin of pleasure.

He had his teacher wholly submissive to him, without reservation, with nothing held back. The very idea of owning this woman, as a willing devoted slave, filled him with pride and pleasure.

"Why the tears, my wonderful slave girl?" he asked.

"Your slave is so glad to have her master back home. Your slave has missed her master so much," she cried.

"I missed you too. That's why I came back early," he smiled, as he wiped away the tears.

He frowned in consternation. Only just realising she had walked in unsupervised. "Where is Nathanial? Hasn't he been looking after you?" he asked.

"He left me with Angela, as my mistress. It was terrible, master," Hollie sobbed.

She told him as best she could, all that happened during the few days he had been away. She hesitated over revealing the two women had been collected by a pony-girl trainer.

Every sordid detail had to be dragged out of her, even her part in arranging for them to be collected.

"You didn't keep a note of their contact details?" Roger exclaimed.

"We will be in trouble over that! Nathanial won't like the idea of his wife and daughter being trained as pony-girls. Even less so that we don't know where they are. If we could find out where they were, we could get them back before he arrives home. Don't worry, your master will think of something," Roger re-assured her.

He wasn't so certain the mess could be sorted out so easily. Two attractive women, highly trained as obedient pony-girls, would fetch a high price in a specialised market. If Nathanial didn't reclaim them both, they might end up anywhere in the world.

Roger imagined the influential man visiting a fellow master, perhaps on an official diplomatic mission overseas, only to find his wife and daughter happily pulling a cart. Dressed in tight leather, with their sex and breasts on show, even he would find it hard to hide his anger and humiliation. He would have to keep calm, for it would be unthinkable to reveal they were his wife and daughter.

The two women might be oblivious of their previous relationship with him, after such extensive training. If so they would be blithely showing off their bodies to the visitors, ready to perform for him, or whoever their master gave them to..

How terrible would it be for all three of them, if the women remembered him as a father and wife? Their new owner might offer the two pony-girls to another important guest for the night. Nathanial would have to watch his wife and daughter trot away with a colleague, or a rival foreign diplomat.

Nathanial would be aware of their strict training, knowing it would be impossible for them to refuse the man anything, however repulsive his needs. What could he do, except keep silent, and accept they belonged to a stranger.

Roger didn't think the pompous man would find it as amusing as he did. The two women deserved punishing, and Nathanial had let him and Hollie down. Sending them away for pony training was going too far. He would have to recover them, and somehow placate Nathanial.

In the meantime, there was something nagging at him, something that needed his attention. His slave urgently wanted him.