Butler for Life -

Chapter 2 - Arrival

The fortnight passed in a blur of tasks and details that had to be organised before he returned to the hotel. He struggled with knowing that this relationship, this tenure, as her Ladyship had called it, was permanent. In the end he took all his clothes to charity shops or clothing bins, clearing out all his wardrobes and drawers in one brutal day of activity.

His superiors showed mild surprise at his sudden and abrupt resignation, but he sensed they thought his departure was convenient -- always looking to introduce young blood. His boss readily accepted his explanation of cardiac problems; too readily, George thought, although he had never trusted the man through his decades of service, so this was nothing new. His pension fund would continue to grow in size. His apartment was almost new, so it rented readily, and the agency would take care of all management, believing that he was going into a religious retreat for an indefinite period. They charged a hefty margin, but better that than selling such a prime piece of city real estate, and he had not the time to dither, nor to arrange a sale. Quickly all his funds were set up and arranged so their dividends were paid back into the capital, and his other memories and records stored on the Cloud.

All fortnight he existed in a kind of delirium, permanently horny and distracted, imagining scenes, wondering what life would be in reality, while his fervent kinky mind kept creating fantastic scenarios where he was tormented and denied, then finally allowed release under supervision. He knew he would be physically punished, that was certain. Would he try to avoid it at all costs? Or would he be occasionally bratty just to have the pleasure of being strapped down on that whipping frame, watching Lady Christina as she prepared to lay into him? Or would the ladies set out to break him so that finally he just walked slowly and passively to the frame and positioned himself for strapping down, then accepted his mistress's strokes without flinching or making a sound?

The biggest wrench was parting from his phone. Even deciding at what point he could let it go was difficult, so much of his life had been transacted through that little device and its predecessors. In the end, he took it with him all the way to the hotel and then smashed it beneath his shoe on the pavement outside, taking care to smear the sim card under his leather sole, and then dumped the bits into a nearby bin, ignoring the suspicious stares of a couple of passers-by.

In the end, his transfer to Lady Christina's estate was an anti-climax, unfolding exactly as he had imagined it would. In the hotel lobby Miss Pauline was seated at the same place wearing a smart business suit, looking very much like a young, upwardly-mobile executive waiting for a client meeting. He was again required to fit himself into the trunk of the saloon, this time clutching his sports bag containing the clothes Miss Pauline had mentioned, together with a few possessions he treasured, as well as his toiletries.

He fully expected there would be an inspection of its contents, but was hoping that Lady Christina would allow him several pieces of personal jewellery, his expensive watch, and some photos of his parents and family. He had ventured to bring also his Kindle, faithful pre-bed companion over the years, and loaded with his favourite novels. Would these initiatives bring punishment upon him? Rather than deterring him, the thought had convinced him to take the risk, for he was feeling intoxicated with the whole situation, reckless in his abandoning of an unfulfilling life for one full of anticipated adventures and excitement.

The journey seemed to take longer this time, or perhaps he was impatient to start his new life. At last the Mercedes' tyres crunched and then slowed to a stop. On cue, the boot lid opened and he gazed around again at his new abode, thinking how strange a feeling it was, for a banker who had for years counted on knowing more than his business partners, to have absolutely no idea where the estate was or what his exact circumstances were, for he obviously did not need to know. He felt like a servant from a bygone century, expected to accept becoming a breathing chattel on an estate, a small part of the staff of a greater entity, driven out from the village to imposing gates on the back of a cart, and dumped before the ivy-clad facades of a building far grander than anything seen in his previous life.

His reverie was rudely interrupted by an abrupt clip around his head from Miss Pauline. "Stop dreaming, man! Come through, follow me."

She headed off up the steps and into the house, forcing him to step lively to catch up. In the event they were headed towards the same small room downstairs, and when he entered it there were several items on a side table that instantly had his cock stirring in his boxers.

One was a brushed metal collar, wide enough to look very intimidating. After ordering him to disrobe completely, and place his clothing in the bag on a chair, Miss Pauline approached him and placed the collar tightly around his neck, locking it with a small padlock that had no key. Before lifting it to his neck, she showed the metal panel embedded on the inner leathered surface, and he could see several shiny contact areas that would rest against his skin.

"I know you will think this collar is some kind of slaver device, but you are not that important. It merely serves as your interface with myself and Lady Christina. This collar serves also to summon you. Learn the combinations -- one shock is for you to go to the main gate, two is for the kitchen, three for the drawing room, which will happen each afternoon, and four is for you to come here for instructions." She produced a small remote from her pocket.

"Here is what it feels like...." He jumped at the sudden shock, which in effect was exactly enough to grab his attention without disabling him. He nodded comprehension. "Of course there are higher levels intended for punishment, but we only use the summons level. Her Ladyship prefers to administer punishments in person. But if you become unruly at any time, those shocks will certainly be used to subdue you. Hopefully that will never be necessary." Her glare was intimidating.

"Now repeat those codes back to me." George managed, with some hesitation.

"Next item is official and legal. This is the contract of tenure. Note that her Ladyship has complete freedom of termination if you do not turn out to be suitable. You remain here forever courtesy of her largesse. Please note that it also gives Madame the right to modify your body in any possible way she sees fit. That is not to say it will happen, but this saves unnecessary complications if she decides to....improve....your appearance. Other owners in her social circle routinely modify their charges, especially their pleasure slaves. Being a domestic, I would say you are less likely to have that done. But Cock has been modified."

He glanced inquiringly at her.

"Cock is the kitchen help, but he is also utilised for entertainment from time to time. So you see, the cook is Cock. Amusing, no?" The last comment revealed a slight German accent, and it would be the only time he ever saw the young lady smile at all. Normally her face looked disdainful and cruel, and now it quickly reverted to her normal sneer. "Your initial title will be Servant, although Lady Christina may change that as she becomes better acquainted with you."

He returned to glance through the pages of typing, realising with embarrassment that, after a lifetime of going over such documents line by line, clause by clause, he was about to sign his life away without the slightest diligence. His cock and arse twitched in reflex at the thought. He took the pen and signed, initialising each page under Pauline's direction. She signed also in witness, and although he knew it would never stand in a court of law, he knew he still accepted its strictures.

It was done, his new life was starting.

Without ceremony she folded the pages and placed them aside on the table. "OK, that's done. Now, let's have a look at your bag. Please empty it out on the chair."

George complied as neatly as he could on the small surface, standing back to allow his mistress to judge. He felt he should keep his eyes down, but couldn't help glancing over to see her reaction.

Pauline smiled sardonically when he did, shrugging dismissively. "Did you really expect we would allow all this? Or perhaps you were simply hoping to provoke an early punishment. Is that what arouses your submission, the thought of punishment? Or are you just a casual, inadvertent brat? I did not take you for that, so probably you are hoping to be thrashed."

"Yes? Look at me!"

Her gaze, when he dared look, was direct and contemptuous. His eyes dropped away immediately, and he knew he was reddening. Then the humiliating realisation that she was probably correct led his treacherous cock to again engorge somewhat.

"Ha! Well, I'll be happy to oblige you any time you step out of line! And her Ladyship gives me full authority to discipline her staff if I find them doing something egregious, so don't think you can expect any dissention from Lady Christina. The best you might expect is that when she inquires after the marks, that she does not then add to the punishment. She likes the exercise, you know!"

"...and while I'm on the subject, you had better train yourself not to show erections around the estate. Her Ladyship is most particular about that aspect of her staff." George's heart sank. How could he be mentally stimulated about his situation and yet not show arousal?

"Now, I will give you a brief tour of the estate buildings and introduce you to Cock."

************

Other than the main house, the estate comprised several outbuildings; a garage for the cars, and stables which had six mangers but presently housed only two horses. Perhaps the ladies had both a car and horse each? he pondered. There were also several greenhouses, although only one held vegetables, and a wood shed for the fireplaces.

With Pauline explaining his duties with regard to each garden area as they went, the tour took over an hour. She brought him in to the kitchen where a young man was preparing vegetables, and turned to George. "Have you eaten lunch?"

When he admitted no, she turned to the young man. "Cock, this is Servant, the new staff member. Make him a sandwich, would you? I'll return....," she said, turning to George,"....in twenty minutes and show you the floorplan of the house, and the wine cellar."

As she disappeared, the blonde youth gave George a brief welcoming smile. "Do you eat chicken?" At George's nod, he pulled a container from the fridge and a loaf of bread from the counter bin.

The room was as generous as any farmhouse kitchen, with several windows opening out towards the front grass and driveway. Trees obscured the view of the main gate. Cream tiles lined the splashbacks, and the cooker was a proper commercial unit with pans and implements stored hanging above the gas burners.

George regarded the young slave. It was quite hard to guess his age, for he had what might be called a pretty face, with cherub lips and a short perky nose, framed by the luxuriant curls of his hair. He was stocky, and quite muscled, like a wrestler. But even then his organ was out of proportion, very thick with a large mushroom head -- he had obviously been circumcised. What held George's gaze was a wide metal ring around the base of his shaft and balls, tight enough that they were florid, and what appeared to be numerous nodules under the skin of his shaft, arranged in rows along it.

The paradox and visual clash of this X-rated organ on a classical Adonis who looked like a Greek statue was a visual shock. There was no mistaking the purpose of the display; his sex had been modified for someone's pleasure and stimulation, but definitely not his. Intercourse for him would be uncomfortable, at the least, George thought. At the back of his mind, he recalled what Miss Pauline had said about Cock being used for pleasure 'from time to time'. It seemed to George that whatever transpired might have element of ritual to it; perhaps special occasions or 'soirees' with guests. He could not see that complex genital modification being employed in a detached manner. His mind was whirling with kinky possibilities when Cock handed him the prepared sandwich on a plate, and indicated the water jug at the end of the large table occupying the centre of the room.

George realised he had not yet spoken to the boy, and blurted out, "Sorry, I'm George. I guess we'll be working together. Do you like it here?"

The question must have carried implications, because the cook flinched slightly, and turned slowly to face him. "I don't know. Does it matter? I couldn't do anything else, and I know how to cook from my grandmother." He shrugged his shoulders.

George was confused. "But do you like the other...the being naked and collared, and being whipped, and being...." His hand motioned vaguely towards the other's shaft, ".....you know; altered...?"

"Well, I guess so. It's OK."

"Didn't you apply to come here?"

"Actually, no. Miss Pauline noticed me at a party, and got my details. Then they contacted me. It seemed to happen naturally without any organisation."

George was confused. "So....do you actually like the kinky aspects of this? I mean, you've been modified, just like I've signed up to accept. Surely those ball bearings under your skin aren't comfortable?"

"I guess not, not really. They're fine during the day. But normally I don't know much about the sex. When Miss Pauline comes for me, she gives me a pill, and I don't remember much after that, except being really hard. I think it's a combination of Viagra and Special K because of the forgetting, but I never did many recreationals in my teens, so I'm only guessing."

George realised that the youth was probably naturally submissive and malleable, also not particularly bright, so he would be ideal for the sophisticated perversions of Miss Pauline and Lady Christina, and his cherubic looks and generous cock would be perfect eye-candy for their social set.

Just then Pauline re-entered the kitchen. "Finished? So you'll be expected to help Cock here during meal times, and you will serve the table, as well as bringing drinks on demand at other times unless you are outside. I'll show you the drinks cabinet in the main salon, but now I want to explain the wine cellar and your duties there."

The cave à vin, another door off the lower floor corridor that led to a stone-lined room that smelt slightly of damp, was modest, and a thick ledger on the entrance table listed around 200 bottles by his estimation. He still felt strange following the young woman completely naked, unable to hide the state of his florid genitals. It made him feel naturally subservient, although her haughty manner also brooked no possibility of initiative, only obedience. Pauline showed him how the crowded shelves were organised. There seemed to be some excellent vintages, but also some middling choices, he thought.

"Does her Ladyship prefer white or red predominantly, Miss?" he ventured.

"I think most of the white is either champagne or chardonnay, but you can acquaint yourself with the selection as you go. Most nights there's red on the table."

"May I make a suggestion, Miss?"

"I doubt it's worthwhile, but what do you have to say?"

"Miss, these are excellent vintages from the past, and certainly fit for impressing guests -- (he hoped that wasn't too provocative a phrase, but he was still feeling his limits in these relationships) - but I am acquainted with modern vintages from lesser-known appellations that make wonderful drinking. Their prices would be considerably less padded with any brand premium. Will her Ladyship welcome suggestions?"

"Of course, and that's my domain, so they come to me. That's evidently part of your skill set, so let me know and I'll contact the merchants. Wine is always delivered here by the case." Her speech was curt, her regard acidic. "We do not consider ourselves connoisseurs, we just appreciate quality. You will have to guess our tastes from what's already on the shelves. Of course you can expect to be punished if Her Ladyship does not approve."

She added, "....and I will be the one giving the punishment!"

Also off the corridor was a boiler room for the water and central heating, and the gymnasium room, fitted with a modest set of apparatus and a good treadmill. George looked down self-consciously at his waistline. Being suddenly without expensive suits to disguise his contours, he felt the need to tone up as quickly as possible, and Pauline explained that both he and Cock were indeed expected to keep themselves in shape in their allowed times, while glancing disparagingly at his torso. He felt himself blushing at his exposed humiliation.

Finally Pauline opened the remaining heavy wooden door, ushering him to a classic dungeon, lined with stone walls, although there were several couches and easy chairs arranged at the far end, where there were several high-placed windows facing a large lawn at the rear leading away to paddocks, and all the kinky equipment in the front half. George regarded the pieces, trying to imagine being restrained in them; the sloping St Andrews cross in the corner was predictable, and a spanking bench festooned with chained cuffs and fixing straps. But the other corner was occupied by a small cell, the bars of its curved door closing to make a space allowing only standing room for its occupant. Inside were various heavy rings fixed into the stone at different heights, and another in the roof of the cage, which was the polished timbers of the dungeon's ceiling. There were two small chests of drawers in another corner of the room, and a special panel on the wall holding a number of implements for corporal punishment; floggers, paddles, crops and whips.

Pauline had allowed him to absorb the surroundings. "We call this the Entertainment Room, and the smaller room next door that you have already seen is the Correction Room," she stated with a slight smirk. "That is where you will be punished, as is Cock. As you can see....," a sweep of her arm indicated the seating, "....the ladies sometimes hold sessions here for their amusement, and occasionally we will have soirees until the small hours, with guests staying over afterwards. So you will come to know this room quite well!"

Her laugh was staccato and derisive, and sent George into another spin of nervous imagination. Then, as a final punch, she added," You had better hope you do not commit such offence that your punishment becomes an entertainment for the Phoebe Society. That's her Ladyship's social circle named after her mother, who was matriarch in her own household, here on this very estate. She was also an accomplished rider, and those stables were for her horses."

They toured the other public rooms on the main floor, and George relaxed knowing that Cock took care of these, together with the cutlery and crockery sets and table linen. That made sense, he thought. He was enjoying the tour when Pauline opened the double doors to what was obviously a sitting room, with a bookcase in one corner, and a generous fireplace.

, and then the upstairs bedrooms. There were a number; the original Lady's Chamber for Pauline, with its generous wardrobe room and bathroom across the corridor, and the Lord's Suite for her Ladyship, quite grand with a huge four-poster bed, and dressing room and personal bathroom attached, and three other guest rooms that would need only dusting and vacuuming unless guests were expected.

A final set of narrower stairs led to the attic, where George entered the previous servants' quarters. Pauline left after giving him directions to reach his room on the landing. It was quite plain, right next door to that of Cock, which was also devoid of decoration, and each with a dormer window overlooking the front lawn. They would share a bathroom with an antique enamelled bathtub, and fortunately a more modern shower installed in the corner. There were two other modest single rooms on that floor, which George supposed would be for any slaves sleeping overnight.