Idiokti̱sía, Ypi̱réti̱s, Políti̱s Ch. 10

Dinner for Four

They knocked on the Andrews' door right at 6:30. The housekeeper let them in and led them to the receiving room where Mr. and Mrs. Andrews were waiting for their guests. They were introduced as Mr. O'Connell and his wives. Mitch took in the incredible beauty of Priscilla Andrews. She could easily succeed as an international supermodel. Tall and curvy with a perfectly proportioned figure, she had honey blonde hair surrounding a flawless symmetric face. Cupid lips framed straight white teeth. She was the classic trophy wife.

Mitch wanted to test how much control he had over the wife of a male slave. He intended on pushing the limits of control while carefully avoiding direct use of the incantation words from the medallion. He knew Karen would want a baseline blood sample, so that had to happen right away. Mitch told Karen, "Get your sample right now. Pris, Karen is going to draw your blood and take a saliva sample. Show her your arm and cooperate fully."

Pris looked rather alarmed, but offered no resistance. She exposed her arm as Karen stretched the tourniquet and swabbed the skin with alcohol. She twitched as the needle pricked her arm. She looked from Mitch to her husband nervously as they waited for the vial to fill. Once full, Karen collected a saliva sample as well, taking both to the refrigerator. When she returned, Karen sat on a couch close to Jill.

Now that was out of the way, Mitch felt free to reign over his slave and his wife. "Andrews, Pris, stand up both of you. Pris, take off your clothes and hand them to your husband. Wo, wo, girl, slow down. We have all night. I want to enjoy this."

Pris was already exhibiting full obedience without being formally taken as a servant or a slave. She had quickly taken off her silk blouse. She looked to her husband for support and got none. His eyes were looking down at his feet. He didn't look up as he took her offered blouse. She continued her strip, going slower as instructed. Mitch had said he wanted to enjoy it, so she turned to face him and caught his eye contact. She began swaying her hips about, first side to side, then slow circles, ending with forward hip thrusts aimed right toward Mitch.

Mitch smiled his appreciation, "Very sexy, Pris. You seem to have some practice at this. Does your husband make you strip for him?"

"Yes, I do some stripteases for him. He asks for it from time to time."

"Andrews, fold your wife's clothes neatly as she hands them to you. She dresses nicely and you should take care of her fine clothes."

Andrews fumbled with the blouse. Obviously he was out of practice with such domestic chores. His wife handed him her bra, and he looked confused. Mitch wasn't sure if he was trying to figure out how to fold a bra, or if he was trying not to look at his sexy wife. Who was stripping for a complete stranger. A stranger who had somehow turned him into an obedient slave.

Pris gave in to the unexpected erotic feelings she was having. She felt an enormous physical attraction to Mitch. She somehow knew that this striptease would end in getting fucked. It wasn't something inevitable. Rather it was something natural. By some twisted logic, Mitch now had unrestrained access to her sexuality. That is where this sequence would lead, a raw animal coupling that would be addictively pleasurable. The fucking would be free of any emotional involvement, which would be OK. She was married, after all. Any feminine emotional needs would be met by a husband whom she no longer viewed as a viable sexual partner. She knew she was still married to him. She knew what vows they had shared, including the prenuptial contract. She remembered letting him have his way with her night after night as a line item of the contract. All of that seemed null and void as her sexual drive was now 'assigned' to Mitch.

Naked from the waist up, she continued the striptease with renewed determination. Mitch nodded yes and Pris tugged playfully with her belt line. Her dance began to take her around the room in graceful circles. Jill and Karen on the couch were both necking and watching, so she twirled for them both, including them in the erotic performance. She unclasped her belt and tugged it partway off, handing the clasp to Jill. She slowly danced backwards and the belt pulled free in Jill's hands. Jill tossed the belt at Andrews. He missed the catch and stooped to pick it up.

Pris slowly opened the fly on her slacks, exposing the lacy band of her panties to Jill and Karen. As she pulled the slacks down off her hips, the turned her backside to them and wiggled her hips, pulling the slacks down her thighs. She was wearing comfortable flats tonight, so she stepped out of them as the slacks pulled over her ankles and off. She tossed her pants and shoes at her husband and they hit him in the face as he tried to catch them.

Pris had fully embraced the overt erotic nature of her dance. Now wearing only minimal red thong underwear, she danced her way back over to Mitch. She turned her backside to him and gyrated her ass right in his face. A narrow band of cloth ran up her crack across her asshole. Pris spent several long minutes removing her panties. She would tug them down a ways and back up. Pull them out and let the elastic snap them back into place. Pull one side down for a few moments, then the other side. She pulled them down to her knees and danced like that for a bit.

Finally (for god's sake) she let them drop to the floor. Karen and Jill applauded. Signifying her husband's irrelevance, she picked the damp thong up and shot it like a rubber band at him, missing entirely. Reflecting his own irrelevance, he scurried after them while his beautiful wife posed entirely nude for Mitch.

Mitch shone a blatantly lecherous smile, letting his eyes wander and linger. Signaling with one hand and occasional comments, he guided her to turn this way and that, move closer, away, bend over, further, legs wider, lips puckered, niples pinched, pussy fingered... Mitch enjoyed himself. Pris truly did have a supermodel body: round tits that sat high without a hint of sag or sign of surgery, pink firm nipples with thin halos of areola, a narrow waist and flared hips, that tantalizing curve of muscle down the center of her stomach with just enough baby fat to be soft and smooth, an 'O' shaped belly button set with a sparkling sapphire ring that matched her eyes, carefully trimmed bush forming a half-inch wide strip above her slit, creamy thighs that didn't touch near her cunt, curvy legs that went on and on, carefully manicured nails on hands and feet.

"Pris, stand behind the couch and bend forward. Arch your back and get ready for me."

Pris trembled visibly with excitement. This was the reason she lived for. She would receive Mitch, and bring him to fulfillment. Which would give her all the fulfillment a woman could ask for. She'd had sex with a fair number of men, including several extra since her marriage. Now she was about to become a true woman. As she took her position, Karen and Jill pulled her down for a three way kiss.

Mitch stood and walked around behind Pris. Mitch stepped close to Pris' presented backside, unzipped his fly, and placed the head of his cock right at the opening, holding it there for a moment, grabbing her elbows with both hands.

Pris' trembling grew more intense, "Please, Mitch. Feed the horny beast between my legs. Make me into the fuck animal I was meant to be."

"Like you have a choice." was all Mitch said as he pushed slowly forward, all the way until his hips met her round ass cheeks. He pulled back hard on her arms, twisting her shoulders painfully, grinding his hips side to side, ensuring he had fully penetrated her. As he had been planning all along, he orgasmed after that single stroke, splatting his seed across her cervix. It had taken all the willpower he could muster, not shouting out the Property incantation, turning her directly into a sex slave. Soon enough that would happen. For now, Mitch wanted to savor the indirect control the medallion had bestowed on him.

As soon as he was done, he withdrew, zipped up, and sat down to rest. Mitch looked at Pris' shocked disappointment, "Don't be so sad, Pris. You specifically asked to be turned into, ... what was that? A 'fuck animal'. That is exactly what I did. I have two sexy wives that I make love to. To me you are breeding stock, a cow to be inseminated. Horny as you are, you will remain exactly that for now: breeding stock."

Mitch stood, "As I recall we were invited to dinner. Andrews, show us to the dining room. Pris, you'll stay naked for now."

Andrews led his guests to a large, elegant dining space. Mitch noticed the place settings, "There are settings for five. Only three of us are eating. I don't want it to go to waste. Pris, go get your housekeeper."

As Pris left for the another part of the house, Mitch ordered his slave, "You and your wife will be serving dinner tonight." About that time Pris returned with the housekeeper.

"This is Maria, our housekeeper."

Mitch had already enthralled Maria. Her cooperation continued, "Yes, we've met. Maria, please join us for dinner. Mr and Mrs Andrews have graciously agreed to serve us. I am sure you've worked very hard today. Do have a seat."

After they were seated, Mitch turned to Andrews, "Slave, your wife is naked. I see no reason you should be wearing any clothes either. Go to the front room, remove your clothing, and fold it neatly next to Pris'. Then help her serve dinner. Pris, head to the kitchen to get the first course and serve."

Moments after Pris left the room, everyone heard a pan drop and a loud shout of surprize from the kitchen. Mitch realized that the chef hadn't been prepared for Pris's presentation. He hustled back and quelled the excitement, "Easy, now, Ypi̱réti̱s. Relax! What is your name?"

His accent was thick, "I am Philippè, ze Andrews' chef."

"It's good to meet you, Philippè. I will get to know you more soon. For now, you need to get used to seeing Mrs. Andrews in the nude. Feel free to stare at her. She likes it when men look at her with lust. As long as your work gets done. Please continue preparing dinner."

"Yes, but I am afraid I dropped ze asparagus!"

"You are completely forgiven. We'll do without. Go back to your work. I'll send Pris in to clean up."

Mitch returned to the table as a naked Andrews was entering the kitchen. As he sat down, Mr and Mrs Andrews arrived with the salads for four. As they were served, it was obvious that Mr Andrews had a hardon. He appeared embarrassed about it, but was obediently serving food and couldn't hide.

Once the first course was served Mitch instructed, "Andrews, your silly little erection is embarrassing. I know you cannot help yourself. You get hardons all the time. With a sexy wife like Pris prancing around in the nude, of course it makes you hard. In fact, Andrews, you will find yourself getting hard a lot from now on. Multiple times a day you'll fantasize about your slutty wife and get hard. Like all guys, you like getting hard, so it happens frequently. Only, whenever you get hard, you are not allowed to hide. Your only recourse will be to excuse yourself so you can slip off and masturbate. You need to do right now, so be quick about it."

Andrews' eyes bulged momentarily. He glanced down at himself, "Uh. Please excuse me!" He skurried out into the hall. Moments later they heard him groan loudly. When he returned, his now semi-softy was bouncing about in front of him, still dripping come.

While they ate, Mitch quizzed Maria about her family. Maria was married with three kids. Her husband was home with the children, which happened 5 or 6 nights a week. Andrews only gave her one day a week off. Mitch got her to open up and chat about her family and how she was being treated by the Andrews.

The main course was one of Philippè's specialties, conch fritters on angel hair pasta. The side was missing, but Mitch didn't complain. Desert was a fabulous chocolate raspberry torte. The Andrews stood by patiently, waiting to clear the table.

When dinner was done, Mitch excused Maria, "Go home to your family, Maria. Andrews, Give her a raise in pay. She no longer has to work past 4 o'clock. And she now gets both Saturday and Sunday off."

"Good night Mr and Mrs Andrews." Maria had collected her things and was leaving.

"Good night, Maria!" they both replied together.

"OK, Andrews, you can clear this table after we've left. Give us a tour of your home and boat. Let's start with the boat."

Andrews led the way to the dock, grabbing a set of keys from a hook near the back door. He gave Mitch a fairly complete tour, the hot tub on the aft deck, the jet ski and a shore dinghy lashed to the dive deck, the foredeck, the bridge, the galley, the dining room, three functional bedrooms, and a well appointed master suite. The suite had a king size bed (a luxury on any boat), a private bath, some comfortable furniture, and a big flat screen TV.

Mitch wanted to christen the boat, "Pris, step up the the end of the bed. Bend over so your elbows are on the bed. Spread you legs wide. Wider. Lock your knees. Now, rotate your hips up and out so your cunt is nicely presented. Excellent. Eyes forward, so you are watching whatever else might be happening on the bed. One more thing, take your right hand back and rub your cunt with short quick strokes. Pris, you shall know this as your 'Fuck Animal' pose. Don't look so surprised. You're the one who came up with that term. I'm just making it official."

Mitch took his position behind her and unzipped his fly.

"Excuse me!" Andrews said as he began towards the door.

"Wait a minute, Andrews. You bought this boat. You bought the house. You bought this wife. I see no reason you should have to hide so you can masturbate. From now on, in the privacy of your home, whenever you get an erection, you'll put your cock on display and openly stroke it, regardless of who else is around."

Andrews rejoined the tour group, one hand tugging on his stiff cock. Mitch turned to Pris, bent forward with her ass in the air. He fished out his cock, proud and hard. With Andrews watching, Mitch grabbed her pelvis and thrust into her. Again, one single deep stroke, and he came. Rather than growling or grunting, he let out a satisfied sigh, "Ahhhhh."

As soon as he was done, he withdrew and zipped up. Acting as if nothing important had happened, "Now for a tour of the house. Andrews, lead the way." Hanging back a moment, he whispered something in Pris' ear. She hurried past them to the house. She did not join them for the tour of the house.

Andrews started with the garage and his collection of expensive automobiles. Just inside the garage was a small, spartan servant quarters where Maria sometimes stayed. The tiny room had a cot, a desk, an efficiency toilette/shower, and a TV. They went through the main floor of the house to the guest wing. Bigger than most houses, it was eight bedrooms arranged unimaginatively around a central hallway, resembling an upscale dormitory. Returning to the main house, they went upstairs where five more bedrooms were located. The first bedroom to be viewed was the master suite. As they entered they saw Pris at the foot of the bed, obediently holding her Fuck Animal pose.

Andrews immediately regained his erection. True to orders, he wrapped one hand around it and began stroking. Pris was masturbating as well, making the cutest little mewing sounds with every breath. Andrews hesitated, unsure of what to do.

Mitch said, "Continue the tour, Andrews. Your horny wife will still be here when we are done."

Andrews showed them the whole master suite. It alone was as big as some people's homes. It had a mini-bar, an exercise area, two huge walk-in closets, an opulent bathroom, a dressing and cosmetics counter, and of course a king sized bed as the center of a furnished lounging area.

They left the main suite to see the other bedrooms. When done, Mitch lead them back to the master bed. He again unzipped his fly and serviced Pris with a single stroke orgasm. Then he had her stand next to her husband, "I have a few rules for you two to keep."

"One: both of you are to remain naked at all times when you are home. Strip immediately when you get home, and dress just before you leave. You will both find yourselves masturbating on and off throughout the day. Pris, you especially will find your hands between your legs a lot, sometimes without even realizing it. If someone sees you touching yourself, you'll just smile and get more excited."

"Two: Andrews, I wouldn't take away your right to sleep with your wife. However, you may not ever touch her intimately. No kissing, no caressing, and certainly no fucking. She may be a slut but her pussy belongs to me. You will both sleep naked in the same bed at night. Sleep on top of the sheets and blankets. No hiding your nudity. If either of you wake up horny, masturbate to relieve your condition so you can get back to sleep."

"Three: every morning at 7:00 Pris will arrive at my suit at the Miramont. Karen, give her your pass card so she can let herself in. Strip nude and present yourself at the foot of my bed in your Fuck Animal pose. Be carefully quiet as to not wake me or my wives. If for some reason I am not there, masturbate yourself to orgasm before leaving."

"Four: You both will continue attending to your business as if nothing is different. Keep making as much money as you can. Keep your usual hours. Keep all of your commitments and appointments. No one outside of your home should suspect that you have been enslaved. No one."

"We will be leaving, now. We can see ourselves out. Since your housekeeper has gone home for the day, you two have some dishes to do downstairs. Pris, I'll expect you in the morning."

Mr and Mrs Andrews followed their guests downstairs and went to the dining room. Still hungry, they both ate cold leftovers sitting on cold, hard chairs. When done, they cleared the table. Philippè was gone, his own cooking area cleaned up. They loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the surfaces. It was a little early, but they wandered up the their bedroom. Andrews was in bed first. Watching his naked wife move about had given him yet another stiffy. He'd already come several times that evening. Another orgasm was unlikely. He stroked it hard, but to no avail.

Pris lay down next to him. As instructed, they lay on top of the sheets. His jacking off was shaking the bed, which made her think about Mitch's cock. Her right hand irresistibly found her pussy and began rubbing. Even though she knew she was being completely dehumanized by Mitch's treatment, she couldn't shake the longing to feel him again, to be used again. She was fully aware that it made no sense at all. Some primitive instinct has taken control of her. Her pussy was calling the shots now. She would get up early in the morning, drive to his hotel, present herself, as ordered. And he would... Pris came hard as she processed the fantasy of Mitch fucking her with exactly one stroke. To be more precise, it was imagining him coming inside her that was the thrill that got her off. The penetration was a necessary imposition. She would endure any humiliation to have more of his male essence.

She glanced at her husband, who had been watching her pleasure herself. He was beating off rigorously, his right hand gripping his puny purple cock, his left clutching his balls. Their eyes met briefly. She felt neither attraction nor repulsion. Her husband of five years had lost all sexual context. She rolled away from him, presenting her backside. Priscilla put him out of mind and went to sleep.