The Mansion (Chapter 1)

Chapter I

He: The morning was just like any other morning. Until you opened the mail that is, and found this neutral envelope. There was no sender, no return address, nothing. Nothing but ... a plane ticket. A predated ticket dated today and in your name. Destination: some unknown European airport and a couple of different hubs to make. No further note. You check the envelope three times to see if there really isn't another note. Then you decide to call David who leaves you even more stupefied, since his only words were: "Well, you better get packed then and make it to the airport." No further explanation.



He must know. He must, you keep telling yourself as you walk up and down the room like a caged tiger, not knowing whether to be excited, mad or simply tear up the damn ticket and forget about it. And what if I go, you think. How long am I going to stay? What am I supposed to wear? What's the climate like out there? You call David again but he's very straight about it, "Stop nagging Alexus, get packed and go." "But ... but ..." you sputter. "No buts, no ifs, no further explanation. You obviously have been invited and you're not supposed to let people down. Now get off your butt and go." You are left stupified, staring at the telephone like it was some alien piece of technology that suddenly arrived from Mars.



She: I walk to the bedroom and sit on the edge of the bed. I look at the clock and know I have little time. I poke around in my closet, wasting time. I walk out to the balcony of our bedroom and sit. I know I should be packing, but can't bring myself to do it. I sit silently, wondering what is going on. Suddenly I hear the front door slam. David isn't supposed to be home for two hours. He walks into the bedroom and then out to the balcony. "I see your suitcase on the bed, but its empty. I want you to go in there and pack. Do it now Alexus." I start to argue again, but see the serious look in his eyes. I know better than to challenge that look so I go back in to pack.
What to pack?? Where am I going, and for what reason? David stands in the doorway and smiles, enjoying my confusion. "Pack the slinky red dress, the short black one, and the backless navy cocktail dress, all my favorites. As well, pack your green silk robe and something to travel in, on your way home. You will only be staying a few days. You will need minimal clothing, no underwear, nothing to cover yourself slave. You will remove your collar and leave it on the bed. Obey Alexus...."



I am floored by this demand. He has never allowed me to remove my collar before and certainly not on a trip where I am going with out him. I remove it slowly, sadly. I think of what it symbolizes to me, to us and then I place it carefully on the bed. I begin to pack, only a small black leather bag. I know something is going on, and my over active imagination is getting the best of me. I hear my heart pounding in my chest, wondering if I can actually obey his orders this time. My mind races as I fill the small bag with only the necessities. He stands in the door way smiling, watching me. I turn back once before leaving the room, and see my diamond collar there on the bed, sparkling, and then I turn out the light.
We drive to the airport in silence. I clutch the handle of my bag, squeezing it tightly. I look to him for clues.. for anything. He opens my door and e****ts me to the counter. I check in and he leads me to the gate. He touches my cheek, kisses me and says, "I love you Alexus. You are my property. It is my wish that you make this trip pet. Do as you are told, and come home to me safely."
I find myself incredibly excited by this whole thing...curious...embarking on a new adventure, with Masters' permission... with his desire that I do so. I know that Master David would do nothing to harm me. He knows my darkest secrets...and fears...but he cares for me as well, and keeps me safe. I kiss him back and slowly walked down the ramp to the airplane, only looking back once. He waves and blows a kiss to me.



He: The six hour flight to Paris "Charles de Gaulle" airport gives you time enough to think. And that is exactly what you do. Whatever in flight entertainment, it is of no interest to. The stewardess brings food. You barely touch it and until today you wouldn't be able to remember what it was. You ask for some mineral water and drink it, but just because you are thirsty. The movie is a blessing. You can close your eyes and try to concentrate, bring some sort of order in your raging thoughts. During the first hours the last comforting words David said reassured you, but as Paris approaches and the pilot starts his casual announcements about the weather and the local time from the cockpit panic hits you again. You don't even know who will be there to meet you and what to do, let alone what language to speak. You hear the speaker voice of the stewardess. It sounds so irrelevant. "Thank you for flying Delta Airlines." What do you know, you scream in your mind.
You are quickly helped through customs by a transfer clerk who brings you to another area of the airport by car. There is a small plane waiting to take you and a few other passengers further south. Another two hours to worry.



When you finally get there a chauffeur is awaiting you, holding a sign with your name on it. For a brief moment you consider the possibility of ignoring him, to turn back to the counter and order a ticket home. But you hear Davids voice resounding in your ears. "Get off your butt and go." It did not sounds like he would see you return within 24 hours. You take a deep breath and walk to the man in the grey uniform. His English is perfect with not even a trace of an accent, but the car is anything but "perfect." It is a limousine with blinded windows. The door is opened. You get in and you hear the locks click in place. On the seat next to you is an envelope. "Alexus" it says on the outside. It is definitely David's handwriting. You open it only to find a short note. "From now on you are to follow every instruction to the letter. That includes obeying the chauffeur of this car. Remember that I will receive detailed reports about your behavior." That's all, nothing more.



At least an hour later the car stops and the door is opened. You step out - in the middle of the woods. "Where are we?" you ask.
"I am sorry Madame, but I am not at liberty to give you any further information. Would you be kind enough to take off your shoes and all jewelry. Leave all of your luggage in the car and follow that path. You will be met by someone." He says this in a tone of voice as if it were his daily job to drop off women in the middle of nowhere and take all her belongings.
You can only stare at him, gasping for breath. "Do not worry Madame. I have very strict instructions from your husband. Your belongings will return to the United States safely." You're startled. There is nothing you can say, but then again, it has been like this for the last ten hours or so. Or is it ten days? There is very little else but to do as you're told.
The car drives off, leaving you with just a dress and absolutely nothing else. No money, no passport, no return ticket and you don't even know where you are. On your stocking-covered feet you start to walk, not knowing whether to cry, panic or be excited.



You look around. The wood seems to be gigantic. A bird is singing somewhere far away. It sounds as lonely as the cry of seagull. The late afternoon summer air is humid and hangs like heavy curtians between the trees. You stop and look around. There is only this path. Your head is empty. Overloaded by impressions, thoughts, doubts and worries your brain simply seems to have shut down.
Then you hear a voice. "Hello Alexus. Welcome." You spin around. "This way please."
"Are... you??" you say.
"Yes and that is the only sentence you will speak on your own initiative. From now on you will only speak when spoken to. Don't worry, I will tell you what you need to know, when you need to know it. Everything else is entirely unimportant. Now come with me."
Speechless for many different reasons, you follow me for a short walk through the woods to a wooden chalet, or at least something that looks like that.



Once inside you relax a little bit. At least there is a house, and a very comfortable house in fact.
"Sit down and make yourself comfortable," I say as I pick up a bottle of wine and pour two glasses. "You can relax now. There is very little you can do anyway but to go along with the situation. You have been sent here to be trained and you will remain here until Master David and I have come to the conclusion your training has been successful. Meaning that it is partially up to yourself how long your stay here will be."
For the moment that is all the explanation given to you. In silence you finish your wine, looking around. The interior is impressive but cozy, with rough handformed red-brown tiles on the floor, roughly laid out, expressing a deliberate sloppy country style. Hardwood paneling along the walls and a huge fireplace. Huge subtropic plants everywhere. Even though the room is huge, it has a cosy, very private and most of all very personal atmosphere. You notice the bookshelves covered wall on one end and recognize the wrok of some French painters. Originals, no question. Nothing indicates anything other than luxury, style and comfort.
That image changes quickly when you are brought to your room. That too is comfortable and has its own bathroom. However there are no windows and there is no door. Instead there is a prison-like iron gate that shuts and locks behind you. "Take a bath and get a good nights sl**p. You'll need your energy. I can promise you that."
You are stunned. The bathroom is equipped as if you were at home. It contains all your own brands, up to the tiniest detail. There are soft drinks and fruit, a big tub and everything else you might need. Everything except two things: clothes and privacy. There is almost nowhere in the room you can go where someone could not watch you through the gate and the corners that are hidden from a direct line of sight are covered by very cleverly positioned mirrors.



She: My mind is racing as fast as my heart. I look around the room, at the beautiful furnishings, all the comforts of home. Were it not for the bars, I would think I was in a very exclusive hotel. What is going on? I go back to the gate and pull on it. It's locked of course. I yell through the bars for someone to come, but no response. I try to convince myself that this is a joke. David is playing a joke on me and will come in smiling any moment now. Forcing my self to laugh out loud at this thought, I try to slow my breathing down and sit on the edge of the big bed. I consider the man who brought me to this room. Is this his house? Is David here too? What about my clothes, my things? Surely I will get my things back. What did he mean by training? What sort of training? His words to me echo in my head, "I will tell you everything you need to know, when you need to know." Well, I need to know now dammit!
I stand and walk to the closets. I open the huge wooden doors and find the space empty. I step into it, almost to convince myself it is real. Stepping out again, I walk to the bathroom. I wonder as I'm walking if there is anyone watching me. There are mirrors in every corner. I feel self-conscious in my black dress and no shoes and I occasionally look back over my shoulder. The bathroom is cavernous, with marble tiles, pool-sized tub and candles. I touch the bottles of my perfume, my favorite soap. This is dreamlike and my heart begins to pound again. Perhaps I should take a bath, as The Man suggested. It might calm me. The feeling that I am being watched is unnerving. I run the bath water very hot. Sitting on the edge of the tub I stare into the forming pool of water, breathing in the steam. I stand again and begin to unzip my dress. I am aware someone could be looking at me, but try to dismiss the idea. I slide the dress off and stand in my garter belt and ruined stockings. Putting the dress on the back of the chair, I smooth the wrinkles, thinking that I will have to wear it again later.



As I turn back to the tub, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. I see a tall slim redhead. My hair is piled on top of my head with many strands now dangling around my face. I touch my bare neck, where my collar used to be, and am reminded once again that I am a slave. I turn to face the wall of mirrors, and look closer at my self. I am mesmerized by the steam, the fear, the confusion. What am I doing here, in this place, naked and very alone? I touch my neck again, watching myself in the mirror. My hand slides slowly down to my breasts, lightly touching the nipples as they harden. I smile, liking the way they look. I move my hand lower, past my flat stomach tracing my fingers along the top of my dark green lace garter belt. I unfasten it and slide the stockings down over my long legs. I imagine someone is watching me and I like the thought of that. I think about the man who brought me here, wondering if he would like looking at me. I reach up and pull the clasp out of my hair, letting it fall down around my shoulders. I study myself, looking like I always look. There is something more in the mirror now, pride- an almost haughty pride in my body. If "HE" wants to watch me, then let him. There is something else I see in the mirror, and its easily recognizable even through my attitude. I see fear. It has begun its creeping, spreading, all consuming journey through my body into my head. I turn away quickly not wanting to acknowledge it and step into the tub. I spend a very long time bathing, shaving myself smooth by habit as Master David requires. I wash my hair with my favorite scented soap. I begin to relax a little, to convince myself that I will be OK. Stepping out of the tub I dry with the large soft towels provided. I apply the softening scented oil I have used for years. I let my long hair dry naturally in waves.



Still wrapped in the fluffy towel, I apply a touch of my cologne. I move back into the bedroom and sit in the large leather chair. Looking over at the bars, I wonder at the design of this room. Why was it built? Have others been here before me? What happened to them? My mind once again begins to work overtime. I go back to the gate and try to look out, but can see nothing. I walk to the liquor cabinet and examine the wines. My favorites of course, and by now I'm not surprised. I pour a glass of Chardonnay and light the candles on the table by the chair. There seems to be no electrical lighting in this room that I can see, only candles. I sip my wine and sigh, and wish there were windows. I shiver in the towel and decide to wrap in a blanket instead. Pulling a blanket from the bed, I walk back to my chair and stare into the candles. An immense feeling of aloneness comes over me. Where is David? Where is the man who brought me here? I am feeling the effects of the wine now, and the stress. I move onto the bed sitting up, wrapped in my blanket. sl**p over takes me soon enough. I awaken only once, to see the candles burned to little stubs, mostly out. The haze of sl**p confuses me, and I wrap the blanket around me tighter and sl**p fitfully again.



To be continued….

Geri
www.bdsmfinder.com
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Categories: BDSMFetishHardcore
Posted by wastedaway
4 years ago    Views: 1,390
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4 years ago
Cant wait to read the next one x
jackguns
retired
4 years ago
wow I usually don't get hot when i reading this kind of a stroy but this is very different wow