Chapter 2

“Next time, don’t swallow.”

“What?”

“I want you to hold it in your mouth and share it with me” then we kissed again and her eyes told me she’d got the picture.

She was going to explain the way it worked: if she woke first, she had to crawl-under the bed-clothes and blow him awake; but, if he woke first, he’d place his hand behind her head and move her mouth-over; however, she was just part-way through her routine: the man from whom she’d just escaped demanded oral satisfaction, every morning, before having her kneel, ass-up, head-down, back concave-down, tits out, legs splayed wide while she pulled-herself apart so he could brown-hole her, without a condom; then she had to lick him clean: he liked to humiliate her: and that was just the tip of the iceberg.

We had breakfast while Tanya described the clothes she had: mostly light stuff; dresses, shoes, jeans and underwear; nothing rugged.

Hmmm; ‘Underwear’, I thought? Ugh: repugnant!

Anyway, re-equipping her was our next goal: my idea was to get her some kit and walk her over the fells to exhaust her, physically; this would drive her circulation, that would refresh her mind: her emotions and spirit would follow, so we went shopping then took the drive out to my Estate.

“You live here? You own this place? This is your home?”

“Yes, to all those questions; this is one of my homes.”

We’d just crested a hill, and triggered an electronic signal, when ‘Big-House’ came into a distant view; as we approached, a very large man appeared, waved and walked towards the Car Parking Stand adjacent to the Helipad; John was the Resident Manager and he was smiling as he always did.

“Good morning, Sir!”

“Good morning, Boss; sorry we’re a day-late but you got the call?”

“Yes, Sir; thank you, and it’s all ready for you.”

“Good. Tanya, this is Mr. Robson, the Estate Manager; Tanya will be staying with us for a while.”

“Welcome, Ma’am, we’ll look after you.”

John helped us with the bags, showed us to the Private Quarters, and advised coffee, sandwiches, cakes and biscuits would be served in the Study.

“Why does he call you ‘Sir’? And why do you call him ‘Boss’?”

“I was his Commanding Officer and he saved my life; John was my Warrant Officer and, as well as making sure my Orders were carried-out, he taught me more about soldiering than anything at Staff College; except for one thing: ‘win-over the WOs and you win-over the men’. I’ve always respected him and his Status and he’s always mentored me. So, when he retired, I invited him to Manage the Estate and he’s doing a bloody-good-job.”

“You were a soldier? It doesn’t show, mind!”

We were in the Study when her tears started to flow again; Tanya was at ease, now, and she focused on the man from whom she’d just liberated herself. He was married, a businessman in his late fifties-early sixties, of South Asian extraction; tall, fat, bald and bearing all the ugly traits and characteristics imaginable in mankind; nevertheless, she told me he was well-hung: maybe that made me wonder ‘Why?’

She told me she’d fallen for him after her divorce; she wasn’t sure if the root was love or something else but his magnetism had infected her like a virus; drawing her in and holding her under his spell in a way that both revolted her yet bound her, inextricably, to his dominance: further, his vileness compelled her to want to obey him and satisfy his every demand.

He’d set her up in a flat and barred her from inviting guests, going to bars or restaurants alone; he discouraged her from acquainting with the locals, neighbours and shopkeepers. He told her ‘she was his whore’ and kept asking her, “Who are you?” to which she’d reply, earnestly, “I’m your whore; your bitch, your sex-slave, your slut-fuck, your Mistress, your lover: I’m at your whim and fancy; the one whom you and your guests can use, abuse and debase.” Then he’d ask; “And who am I?” to which she’d reply; “You’re my Master”. He decided how she lived, breathed, performed and, if necessary, died; yet, he’d never insisted on any body-modifications; astonishing, but it was easy to see the equation and the quid-pro-quo.

His modus operandi was to visit on a whim and she had to be ready for him; implying, no bra, no panties, hold-up stockings, high heeled shoes, an elegant dress, which, as a concession, could be of her choosing: she had to be made-up, perfumed and depilated. On occasions he’d come and they’d have dinner delivered; on other occasions he’d take her to dinner; sometimes he’d invite her to go out to dinner and send a Cab but there were an increasing number of occasions when he’d invite his multi-ethnic acquaintances to join them in her flat for dinner and, afterwards, to use her.

Astonishingly, Tanya took this, and his other sexual extremes, in her stride: for example, he knew she wanted a baby; so, because he didn’t want her to get pregnant, he ordered her to take the combined oral contraceptive so she could have sex ‘safely’ with him and his ‘guests’; condoms weren’t allowed.

Of course, this delighted his guests because skin-to-skin was best of all; they were told, in front of her, and to add to her humiliation, that ‘anything goes’; she was open for vaginal, anal and oral sex; single, double-tap and triple-tap. Naturally, they could play, fondle and kiss her, she could be spit-roasted, tit-fucked and they could experiment with double-penetration in her mouth, her asshole and her pussy, often simultaneously: and it didn’t stop there!