Chapter 7: A Lesson in Humility I

One evening she was in his office in her usual position on the bench when he informed her that they would be having dinner the next evening with a friend of his named Gary Slater. He was a sculptor and Blaine had bought some of his work. He would also be bringing along his slave. And that was all he had to say on the subject.

This certainly piqued her interest. She had never met another slave. Had it been Alex who told her they would be meeting another couple in a Master/slave relationship she would have expected them to be people like themselves, that is to say an ordinary couple living a kinky lifestyle. Her mother notwithstanding she thought of herself and Alex as quite normal people with normal interests and a normal lifestyle outside the bedroom. No one except their four spanko friends would have reason to regard them as anything other than ordinary middle class people. But her own relationship with Blaine seemed so strange, so beyond what she once would have conceived as possible, and because this Slater fellow was his friend, she suspected that his relationship with his “slave” (whom Blaine hadn’t bothered to name) must likewise be unusual. Even the language Blaine used was significant: he didn’t say they’d be having dinner with another couple, but rather with his friend who was bringing along his slave, the way you might speak of someone bringing along their pet dog. While making the necessary concessions to the “vanilla” world, such as introducing her in fine restaurants as his “associate,” Blaine otherwise tried to live his Master/slave fantasy on as literal a plane as possible, her own nominal status as mortgaged property being the best evidence of that. Furthermore he appeared to be part of a whole kinky circle that played the same game. And so should relations with this Slater fellow and his slave later extend beyond dinner and into the home, such a social occasion between two Masters and their slaves would likely be something other than a mere tea party, and doubtless equally unlike those dinner-cum-spanking parties she had shared with Alex.

All this was food for thought the next day while she performed her usual domestic chores. That day happened to be a Saturday when Blaine was at home, so this time he drove with her to the restaurant. This turned out to be a small Italian place, more modest than the ones he usually took her to. Here there was no maître d’ or required reservation. They arrived before the others. Only two of the tables were occupied. The waitress who greeted them asked, “Table for two?” “We’re expecting two more,” Blaine replied. The waitress tried to seat them next to the other diners but Blaine insisted on a more secluded table near the back. This time Blaine had Julie sit next to him.

“I feel overdressed here,” Julie said. As usual on these dinner dates she wore one of the designer cocktail dresses he had bought her while Blaine wore his usual business suit.

“Slater dislikes fancy restaurants on principal. He wouldn’t wear a tie if you held a gun to his head. He fancies himself a man of the people. Of course now that he’s a success he has a seven figure income. The food is good here though. I’ve eaten here before. Ah, there he is.”

A stocky man of medium height wearing a blue work shirt, jeans and work boots came striding towards them. Trailing behind him was a young woman, dressed rather more stylishly in brown suede knee-high boots, red tartan miniskirt and black off-the-shoulder top. The man quickly plopped himself down opposite Blaine, the young woman taking the seat opposite Julie.

“So how’s it going, Blaine?” he said in a loud, rasping voice. “Still raping and pillaging the American economy?”

Blaine smiled. “I wouldn’t put it quite that way.”

Slater emitted a coarse laugh. “You made a fortune in the crash when everyone else was going broke, didn’t you, by selling short?”

“Don’t sell short-selling, short. It helps keep the markets honest. Anyway, you didn’t go broke, but that’s only because you keep all your money under the mattress.”

“Not quite. At least I make my money the honest way, by working.”

“And then selling to people like me.”

“I wish I didn’t have to. My work should be in museums where everyone can enjoy them. They will be some day.”

“Slater’s a socialist,” he remarked to Julie, whom he hadn’t bothered to introduce, just like Alex hadn’t introduced her to Blaine that night in his apartment.

“That’s right, Blaine, and you and your fellow robber barons have been making my case for me.”

Julie wondered how old Slater was. He could have been as young as thirty-five or as old as fifty. He had bushy black hair, a florid face, a big nose, big ears and huge hands. He also spoke loudly, in marked contrast to Blaine’s quiet voice. Blaine appeared to take his friend’s remarks as good-natured banter but Julie thought him rude and uncouth.

“I’m sure your work will be in museums some day. But why not donate some of it now? You should be able to afford it. Not to mention the tax deductions. But enough of this. I want to hear about your trip.”

Blaine and the young woman, whose name was Nicole, had just spent a month in Europe, flying first to Paris, where Nicole visited her father, and then on to Prague, spending the rest of the time in various parts of eastern Europe. The conversation was mostly carried on by the two men, Nicole only speaking when prompted by Slater. Julie didn’t speak at all except when choosing from the menu. Neither man bothered to introduce their female companion, something that no longer came as a surprise to her. Julie was perfectly happy to be ignored, as it left her free to listen and to observe the couple opposite. Nicole in particular intrigued her. She was first of all extremely beautiful, slightly taller than Julie, with slender arms and beautiful shoulders. Her auburn hair, short and elegantly styled, complimented the delicate beauty of her features. Julie even liked her voice, which was unusually low and sultry, like a lounge singer’s. She spoke with a slight trace of an accent. Around her neck she wore a gold choker, and like Julie’s Gorean collar it had a ring attached in front. Was it a slave collar or merely a piece of jewelry? It seemed slightly incongruous, out-of-tune with the rest of her. Julie had trouble picturing this elegant young woman as a slave, yet a slave she undoubtedly was.

When the meal was over Blaine hailed a cab which they took to Slater’s apartment. He lived on the top floor of an old industrial building that had been converted into lofts. Most of the residents were artists. The front door opened up into a living room area. Slater seated Blaine and Julie on a sofa while he took the armchair opposite. Slater offered Blaine some sherry, then sent Nicole to get it. Nicole soon returned carrying a tray with three glasses. She had discarded her skirt and blouse, so that all that remained of her outfit from the restaurant was the brown boots and the gold choker. There was one addition, though: she was wearing nipple clamps. Nicole served them each in turn, beginning with Slater, followed by Blaine and then Julie. If she was embarrassed by her nakedness she didn’t show it. Her face displayed as little expression as a runway model’s. It was Julie who was embarrassed; how strange it was for her of all people to be sitting here, in her Ralph Lauren dress and Manolo Blahnik shoes, being served by a naked slave girl!

No sooner had Nicole served the drinks then she went out again. Slater and Blaine chatted for a few minutes while drinking their sherry. All of a sudden Blaine excused himself and went out, leaving her alone with Slater. She sat there quietly, not looking at him.

Slater broke the silence. “So Julie, how do you like living with Blaine?”

“Uh, I don’t know. I mean it’s fine.”

“You seem unsure. How long have you been there?”

“About two, two and a half months.”

“That should be long enough.”

“The first month or so I just stayed in the house. I only went out to the store. I never saw anybody. It was kind of lonely. The past few weeks it’s been better. He’s been taking me out a lot.”

“So you were unhappy because he didn’t take you out? Well, he’s your Master, not your boyfriend, unlike, what’s his name?

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean the boy you were living with before you moved in with Blaine.”

The remark rankled her. “His name is Alex. He’s not a boy, he’s thirty-two. He owns his own business.”

“Uh huh. And you should be addressing me as ‘sir,’ young lady. Didn’t Blaine tell you? That’s how a slave addresses a Master other than her own.”

She swallowed hard. “No, sir, he didn’t tell me.”

“So this Alex, how long had you been living with him?”

“Four years. Sir.”

“And did he introduce you to the lifestyle?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Right away?”

“No, sir. Not immediately.”

“I think I get the picture. You had a boyfriend, you moved in with him, one day he asked you if you’d like to be spanked. You said yes. You went on to other things. Then one day he said, ‘Let’s play a game: I’ll be your Master and you’ll be my slave.’ Is that right?”

“Sir, with all due respect, you don’t know anything about my relationship with Alex.”

“And now,” he went on, ignoring her retort, “you have a real man for a Master. You think you can handle it?”

Julie said nothing. His aggressive, even belligerent attitude surprised and unnerved her. Then he said, “Would you like me to spank you?”

That really jolted her. “Is that because I didn’t call you ‘sir,’ sir?”

“No, I just want to spank you on general principles.”

“I think that’s for Mr. Blaine to decide, sir” she said rather grandly.

Slater laughed in his coarse way. “Fine. Mr. Blaine is in the bedroom fucking Nicole. When he gets back I’ll ask him. While we wait we’ll listen to some music. Do you like jazz, Julie?”

She was disconcerted by his sudden shift in tone. “Uh, sometimes,” she said. “I don’t know a lot about it.”

He went to put on a CD, then came back. “It’s free jazz. Ornette Coleman. I find it good music to work to.” He closed his eyes and put his head back. The conversation appeared to be at an end, to her great relief. She was nervous about what would follow Blaine’s and Nicole’s return. She decided to follow Slater’s lead by closing her eyes and focusing on the music, trying to drown out her troubled thoughts.

Footsteps soon awoke her from her pleasant dreams. She opened her eyes. Blaine had returned followed by Nicole, drenched in the odor of her sex mixed with perfume. Slater also opened his eyes. “Blaine,” he said. “I wanted to spank your slave, but she said I needed your permission.”

“My fault. I should have told her.” He turned to Julie, and pointing to Slater said, “Over there.”

Nervously she walked over to his side. He patted her bottom and said, “This is a nice dress, I wouldn’t want to damage it. Help her off with it, Nicole.”

Nicole undid her zipper, then helped her pull it down over her hips. She stepped out of it while Nicole picked it up off the floor. Then she climbed over his lap.