Country Retreat
July 28th 2012
I am taking a well-earned break from the city for a week. My business affairs are mostly in order and what I’s need dotting and T’s need crossing can be handled by my employees. I have left my city home in the capable hands of one of my favourite houseboys, I have made sure there are no male clothes in the house so I can be sure he won’t shirk his duties and run off to meet his rugby team to get drunk. I have also left him in chastity until I return so I know he won’t be rummaging through my wardrobe and bringing himself off into a pair of my nylons, dirty boy.
We pull up on the gravel path of my country retreat. My chauffer opens the door and immediately falls to his knees with his face in the gravel and his bottom in the air.
‘Thank you Peter.’ I say as I step out of the limousine and give his backside a swift stroke with my riding crop. ‘That was because we are two minutes late Peter. Don’t let that happen again. Now take my bags to the main bedroom’.
‘Yes Ma’am, thank you Ma’am, right away Ms Davenshaw.’ He warbles and scurries around to fetch my bags as quickly as he can. It is starting to rain and without me having to ask a naked houseboy hurries over to hold an umbrella over me. I do so hate getting my hair wet. I don’t acknowledge the houseboy but begin to walk up the gravel path towards the front door. On each side of the path grovel my stable of slaves, subs, sissies, houseboys and cuckolds who will be here all week to make my stay as comfortable, pleasurable and entertaining as is possible. All with their faces pressed to the ground. All with their backsides raised as high as they can get them. As I pass each one mumbles a ‘welcome Ms Davenshaw Ma’am’ into the gravel. I ignore all but the last who I give a sharp whack on his behind. ‘Face lower, arse higher’ I order in my coldest tone. He does this immediately whilst apologising profusely.
My heels give a satisfying click on the stone steps leading to the front door which is being held open by Francis, the head houseboy.
‘Welcome Ms Davenshaw. Your house is ready for your requirements. I do hope everything is in order Ma’am.’ He says. ‘. Me too Fran if only for your sake. I’m feeling particularly sadistic today after my long drive.’ I warned him. I swear I actually heard a gulp before he answered, ‘Yes Ma’am. What are my orders?’ I reply by telling him to leave the rest of my ‘workforce’ outside for another ten minutes, in the rain just so as they get an idea what sort of mood I am in and then tell them to congregate in the main sitting room ready for inspection. He runs down the steps to deliver the good news to the shivering minions and take to my room to shower and change with Peter scuttling behind me struggling with my bags.
After a quick shower I change into some brand new satin underwear that one of my subs recently gifted me with. Pulled on some lovely black seamed stockings and slipped into a dramatic and very sexy suit. I wanted my subbies salivating after me from the off and as I pulled on my 5 inch patent stilettos I knew that I looked fantastic. I looked into the full length mirror which only confirmed this, gave myself a sly little smile and started for the sitting room for inspections.
My subbies were of course all there awaiting me, again in the face to floor arse in the air position which is the default protocol unless otherwise instructed. I was in one of the plush leather armchairs, crossed my legs and let my stiletto danger from my foot.
‘You boy.’ I said to the subbie nearest to me and kicked him lightly on his arm.’ A glass of wine, white, hurry.’ He hurried. ‘The rest of you stand, legs slightly apart, hands behind your backs’. I clicked my fingers and all my kneeling slaves jumped up to attention. I looked slowly around the semi-circle to review my toys for the week. All of them had their eyes to the ground as is required and more than one of them was visibly shaking, whether this was from being outside in the rain or from simply being in my presence I didn’t know. Probably a bit of both I suspected.
Each slave was naked except for a collar. The collars were of different colours depending on the subbies role in my world. This also corresponded with one other item they each wore, again different depending on their tendencies. There were two stable boys with brown collars and rather dashing horse-tail butt-plugs firmly in their bottoms. These boys would be responsible for my horses and all the work that goes with that. They would be sleeping in the stables most nights with their penises tethered to the ground. Both of these subs were high-flying executives I had met at my riding club. Next there were four houseboys with white collars and little silky pinnys around their waists. They would be responsible for the general running of the house and garden along with Fran, the cleaning, the cooking and the pampering. Next to those were two bisexual sissies with pink collars and black high heels. They would be providing entertainment and would be responsible for keeping my wardrobe in order. Then there was a cuckold with a red collar in a plastic chastity tube. This sub was for me to experiment on. To try out all the different ways I can drive a man to almost an insane level of lust and frustration. He was also going to be my personal shopping slut should I get the urge to have peter drive s to the local town for a spree. This cuckold was incredibly wealthy so I knew I would want for nothing. Last in the semi-circle wearing studded black collars were my dog-boys, four of them, each picked for the size of their manhood and their sexual prowess should I in the week get that particular urge. They were doggy trained and each of them a foot fetishist. They would spend the week in the kennels until called to worship my feet and legs or to perform any other sort of worship that I had a whimsy for.
I was pleased with this harem. A good mix and all of them quality submissives. Fran has done well, I thought, maybe I’ll give him a little reward later for putting this ‘staff’ together. I know how much h likes my bottom. I might let him have a few little kisses through my lace panties.
I rose from my chair and addressed the gathering. ‘You all know why you’re here and all know the protocol. You are at my command and the command of any of my guests, all of whom will be arriving in the morning. You do not speak unless you are asked a question or otherwise ordered to speak. You do not make eye contact with me or any of my guests unless otherwise ordered to. You do not go to the bathroom without permission from either myself or my guests; likewise you do not eat without permission. Water you may take whenever you need. You do not masturbate or even touch yourself without permission and any unauthorised erections will be dealt with appropriately. Do I make myself clear?’
A chorus of ‘Yes ms Davenshaw.’ Greeted my ears.
‘Good. Now you’ve all got a very busy week ahead of you so I suggest you use tonight to relax and charge up your batteries. Except for you.’ I said tugging the cuckold’s chastity tube.’ You don’t get to relax at all I’m afraid, I’ve been looking forward to spending time with you, now crawl up to my bedroom and wait for me there.’
I was certain a slight look of dismay crossed his face before he stuttered out a ‘Yes ms Davenshaw.’ And scooted out of the room on all fours.
I finished what was left of my wine and dismissed my small army of subbies.
‘Oh actually you as well.’ I said stroking the cock of one of my dog-boys.’ You get up there too’
He barked once and darted out of the room on all fours.
This is going to be a very relaxing week indeed, I thought smiling thinly to myself before retiring to my chambers.