Office Servitude Pt. 02

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This story was originally part of the "On the Job Story Event 2020" and intended to be a one off. However, I asked if anyone wanted to see more. Well, the readers have spoken, so here we are. I already have several stories in the pipeline on my other two series, but I will work this one in as well.

The story is in the same near-future universe as my Penal Slavery series, set in an alternate world where criminals are sentenced to terms of slavery rather than jail or prison per se. Because this is Literotica, there is a lot of sex. No rape or violence, reluctance at worst.

I thank those of you who will give the story a read. I value your feedback.

If you enjoy this story, then try the Penal Slavery and Mom and Daughter Face Penal Slavery series, along with "Visit to the Lodge," set in the same universe. Chapters 6 is Penal Slavery is out and Chapter 7 is being edited now. As soon as they drop, Chapter 4 of Mom and Daughter face Penal Slavery is next up, along with Chapter 3 of Office Servitude. Because of the rather amazing response to "Celebrity to Penal Slave," there will probably be a part 2 for that as well.

Special thanks to Javahead and Carl Bradford for their suggestions and insights. Javahead also alpha read Penal Slavery part 6. Alas, I overlooked crediting her help in that story.

*****

The ride to Domina Peak's home was much less stressful than the ride back from the courthouse to the office had been earlier that day. This morning she had imagined everyone in town was looking in and seeing her naked, collared body on display. As she got into the back seat of Domina Peak's car after work, she noticed for the first time that the car had polarizing windows. So no one could see in unless they had special equipment available only to law enforcement.

As Domina Peak drove out of the parking garage, Denise looked around the city she had driven around for years but looking for the first time with the eyes of a slave. She knew from a college class paper she had submitted that between a fourth to a third of the population had served a term of penal servitude at some point in their lives, but she had never noticed the number of slaves around her. From the coffle of slave cunts in office dresses that made her outfit look positively conservative by comparison being loaded into a van with the logo of "Animate Rentals," to the road crew of green collared slaves dressed only in collars, jockstraps and yellow safety vests filling potholes Denise reflected that the number seemed low.

While Domina Peak stopped the car at a light, Denise looked out the passenger window over at a park she frequented. It was a favorite of parents to take their children to, and the scenes reminded her of happier times with her own father and mother. She realized for the first time that many of the women she thought were mothers or au pairs were in fact slave cunts. The relatively modest dresses exposed the collars around their necks and cuffs around their wrists and ankles, somehow incongruous with the sneakers that most wore. How had she never noticed before?

As if reading her mind, Domina Tracy spoke up, "One would think that the last person you want tending your children would be a penal slave. But since the new computerized collars became standard, parents realized that having a live-in caretaker who you know can't get high, raid the liquor cabinet and won't ask for time off is pretty useful. Plus, you know exactly where they are at all times. It's no surprise they have become all the rage. Not to mention that I bet more than a few 'fuck the babysitter' fantasises get acted out,"

Domina Peak chuckled, "Tracy you're so bad."

Another ten minutes of driving had them pulling into a winding driveway that wended its way through a forest of trees and opening up to a sprawling two-story house. Mansion was more like it. Denise had been here once, for an evening company get together. In daylight, the scale of the place was impressive. Red brick, with white shutters flanking large windows, the structure harkened to an age of old money and hinted at the opulence contained inside.

Driving down a branching drive to the back of the house revealed an attached two-story garage that seemed to have started life as a carriage house judging from the barn type doors. One set of the four double doors opened as the car approached. The domina pulled into a rather spacious and clean garage and stopped the car.

"Home again. At least traffic was not too bad today,"

As everyone got out of the car, Domina Peak continued, "Tracy, please show Bookkeeper the kitchen while I get a quick shower. Dena was supposed to have done the grocery shopping, but with all the craziness of getting her family packed up for the move, she might have forgotten. If there is nothing there, then we can just do delivery. But after Adam's buildup, I am looking forward to seeing what our little convict can do in the kitchen."

"So am I, "replied Domina Tracy with a bit more enthusiasm than the situation called for, Denise thought.

Denise internally cringed at being called a "convict". Then she told herself that it's nothing but the truth. She has the collar and the barcode on her bare ass to prove it. Considering most people would call her a slave cunt, convict was more refined by comparison.

Following the domini from the garage up a couple of steps through a beige mudroom containing shelves, hooks for hanging coats, coat hangers and winter boots. At the end of the room there was a door to the left and a flight of stairs. Domina Peak started up the stairs that Denise realized from watching period videos were designed as the servants' stairs.

Domina Tracy turned left and opened the door which led into a kitchen the size of Denise's old two-bedroom apartment.

"When Elizabeth and Bill, Bill was her late husband, bought this place ten years ago, it was like a time capsule. Beautifully preserved, but nothing updated from the original. Remind me to show you pictures of the old kitchen. As you can see, they updated everything."

Saying the space was "updated," was an understatement. Denise had worked in her school cafeteria and later in a pretty upscale restaurant. This cooking space was their equal or better. She saw the domina open a huge refrigerator door to reveal a fully stocked cooler.

"Looks like you have plenty to work with. Think you could do omelettes and salad?"

Denise took a peek. Bell peppers, mushrooms, bacon, several types of cheese. Eggs, of course. She turned and said, "Domina, are there any onions?"

The older woman took a couple of steps to open a door to a fully stocked walk-in pantry. Besides enough canned goods to ride out a zombie apocalypse, there were root vegetable bins, one of which contained onions.

"Yes, domina, should take less than twenty minutes to prep and cooking will be quick."

"Good. Adam will be here in about forty minutes. Elizabeth will want to have dinner about a half hour after he arrives. We have plenty of time. Strip."

"Domina?"

"I have always wanted to fuck in a kitchen. My cunt needs some attention and you need the practice. Shimmy out of that outfit and hop on the prep table. From now on, hang it up in the mudroom when you get home. We will expect you to be naked at all times here, "the domina explained as she shed her own clothes, folding them neatly on a nearby chair that was part of a breakfast nook.

Denise was sure she had an open mouth deer in the headlights look, but she pulled the office dress over her head and draped it over one of the other chairs. Denise climbed on the metal prep table and stretched out her legs hanging off one end and the back of her head supported by the other end of the table. She shivered a bit, and not just from the cold metal on her back and buttocks. The surprisingly spry older woman hopped up on the table and lowered her shaved peach onto Denise's still open mouth.

"Get going dear. You are the first woman I could not bring to orgasm with just my tongue and that simply will not do," Domina Tracy then spread Denise's thighs apart and plastered her face into her cleft.

As Denise lapped at the cinnamon and spice flavored twat, she could feel her own cunt juicing up from the expert tongue action of the older woman. When the domina traced the alphabet on her own clit, Denise realized why her girlfriends raved about the technique. Panting, she returned the favor to the pussy covering her mouth.

Just when Denise thought she might actually orgasm, a fleshy slap caused Domina Tracy to yelp in her cunt and Domina Peak exclaimed, "Tracy, you insatiable slut! We eat food prepared on that table. Get your rug munching ass off the slave and go wash your slutty hide."

As the older woman moved away from Denise and crawled off the table, Denise could see the woman's shiny face and unrepentant grin.

"Yes, Ms. Peak, right away Ms. Peak," Domina Tracy replied in mocking obsequiousness. Turning to Denise, she said, "Bookkeeper, hang my clothes up in the mudroom. We send out dry cleaning on Thursday for return delivery on Friday evenings."

"After we eat. First get the prep table cleaned. What's for dinner?"

"Western omelettes with a side salad. If that meets with your approval, Domina Peak."

"It does. Get started with the prep. Don't start cooking the omelettes till I tell you."

Cleaning and wiping down the christened prep table, Denise noticed for the first time that the domina was wearing a sheer yellow pastel robe, belted loosely at the hips, and that she fixed her eyes on the firm ass of the naked departing office manager. If her owner's prior statements earlier today weren't enough, the hard nipples outlining the silky fabric was enough to confirm that Domina Peak was indeed bisexual.

Domina Peak pulled out one of the breakfast nook chairs and sat down to watch Denise at work and started talking to her. It amazed Denise that they were having a normal conversation, talking about nothing in particular. The domina's complement on the skill with which Denise chopped the vegetables and prepared the salad pleased her.

Denise explained her cooking and food service background, "The head chief, Dominick, wanted me to come on full time as a line chef and apprentice under him. He said I had the touch. I actually thought about it. In the end, I realized I didn't want to turn a fun hobby I was getting paid for into a job. I just didn't have the passion that he had for food that I have for problem solving."

The domina gave Denise an unreadable look that caused Denise to falter, wondering if she was being too chatty, unbecoming of a slave. She looked down at the egg mix she was beating and whispered, "forgive this slave her rambling."

"Look at me."

Denise looked up to see the domina looking stern, but not really angry.

"If I, Tracy, or anyone else engages you in conversation, you are to carry your part of the conversation. The State didn't take your brains away with your clothes. You will live with us for the next six months. I was wondering about ways I could encourage your cooking as a hobby. I was not angry. Quite the contrary. Never fear, you will quickly learn if you displease me."

"Thank you, Domina. I do like to cook. Until I came to work for you, I really didn't have the funds to experiment with dishes and to be honest, cooking for one is kind of a drag."

"Well, getting delivery all the time can be a drag too after a while. My late husband was the chef. I can do basics and appreciate wonderful food. Cook it? Not so much. Tracy thinks she can cook. And we will leave it at that."

" If the Domina approves, I will plan some menus. I had a few cookbooks, but I guess they are in storage."

" I had Adam supervise the movers. They accounted for everything. As for cookbooks..."

The Domina got up and opened what Denise had thought was a china hutch to reveal several shelves of cookbooks. There were the classics like "The Joy of Cooking", and "Mastering the Art of French Cooking", to thin books she had never heard of like, "Easy Wok Cooking."

"Bill was a sucker for buying any book about cooking that caught his eye, "Denise saw the domina get a faraway look as if remembering times past. The older woman seemed to recollect herself, "So I think you can find a lot of menu ideas there. "

"Yes, Domina. May this slave ask what her other duties will be?"

"The good news is that I have a service clean every other day, so there is no need to do housekeeping. Laundry is another matter. A lot of our things are dry cleaned so, as Tracy said, we drop off on the way to work on Thursdays. Laundry day is Saturday afternoon. That will be one of your jobs along with changing the bed linens. With you here, that will be more frequent. Do you snore?"

Nonplussed, Denise replied, "I don't think so, Domina."

"Good. Tracy sounds like a chainsaw. An orgasm usually solves the problem. Remember that. Also, I like to wake up to a good pussy lapping in the morning. Tracy usually takes care of that. That woman loves dining at the Y. That said, I expect your face between my thighs every morning till you perfect your technique. It will be good practice since I suspect that if she is not licking me, she will be licking you in the mornings."

Denise focused on cracking eggs while her mind raced. She had been so relieved to know she wouldn't be sleeping in the building slave kennels. She had given no thought where she would sleep other than here at the domina's home.

"Domina, since I can't use a wrist comp, do you have an alarm clock or something so I will know when to present myself every morning. I have to confess, I need an alarm to wake in the mornings."

"No need. You will sleep with me and Tracy at night. She wakes up before I do. Knowing her, she will get you up with her tongue. Hopefully getting you off as well. "

"Won't the bed be crowded? With three?"

"Oh no. We have an Alaskan King bed. It will easily sleep five comfortably. Six, even. It's been a while since we were sleeping more than two regularly. I am looking forward to it."

Denise had never slept with anyone since she was a frightened child crawling into her parents' bed during terrible storms. Now she was a naked slave expected to share a bed with two women, both of whom she doubted wore PJs to bed.

Prep completed, Denise covered the salad, omelette mix and chopped bell peppers, grated cheese, mushrooms, onions, and bacon in the cooler.

"Bookkeeper, fetch me a carrot and some cooking oil."

Denise complied, wondering if the domina wanted her to saute some carrots for the omelettes. Oddly, people put a lot of strange things in omelettes. She went to the root bin and selected a short, thick one that would be easy to chop. She grabbed a bottle of extra virgin olive oil, apparently the only cooking oil in the pantry.

Exiting the pantry, she found that Domina Peak had gotten up and had a hand towel in front of her. Seeing the bottle of olive oil, she chuckled.

"Ironically appropriate. Now bend and spread."

Denise spread her legs and bent over, grabbing her ankles and exposing her cunt and anus to view. She remembered the bailiff making her expose herself to the crowd as she injected the tracking data and contraceptive chip into her left butt cheek, and later the auctioneer bending her over to scan her barcoded ass to complete her sale to Domina Peak. Her face burned anew with humiliation.

The oil dripping onto her exposed asshole was the first clue that she would not be sauteing the carrot. Her fourth anal penetration of the day was both easy and rough. Her anal ring was getting used to the invasions, but the carrot skin created the most friction despite the lube. She couldn't help gasping.

"I ordered a set of butt plugs that should arrive tomorrow, but we need to get you used to regularly taking it up the ass. The enslavement station and the vibrator started the process, but we need to build on that. Getting fucked in the ass is easy, but domini forget the importance of exercising a slave's sphincter muscles so they stay tight. I have seen too many new slaves wind up loose and gaped all the time because of poor anal exercise routines. I want you to get used to walking around with a plug or dildo and clamping on it. I will take it out when you serve dinner."

"Yes domina." What else could she say? The woman thinks about exercising everything. At least the carrot was not as long as the dildo from earlier or as fat as the enslavement restraint or the enema head from the shower.

"Straighten up."

Denise clenched the anal invader. She was so well lubed she was afraid it would pop out. That would be even more terrifying than walking around with a carrot butt plug.

"Follow me Bookkeeper. Pick up the clothes. You can hang them up on the way upstairs."

Denise followed Domina Peak's robe clad form. She noticed that the sheer fabric left little to the imagination. After taking care of the outfits, they climbed the steps that Denise had seen leading off from the mudroom.

"There's a grand staircase off the front door, but most of the time it's easier to just use the back steps."

As they topped the steps, they came to a small landing with a door. The domina went through it and turned left. Denise followed and found herself in a wide hallway with coffee-colored walls and rich walnut paneling bisecting the lower part of the wall. A rich burgundy carpet runner ran the length of the hall over a dark wooden floor. Several doors led off the hallway. Just to the right was the top of the staircase that led to the first floor.

"There are six upstairs bedrooms. The ones on each end are master bedrooms with attached baths. The other four are guest rooms with a shared bath. There used to be eight bedrooms plus the two big rooms on the east and west ends all sharing one bath but when we bought the place we remodeled. The first door we passed on the left is the shared bath."

As the domina pointed out the rooms, Denise thought whoever built this house either had a big family, a lot of servants, or both. Her tour guide stopped at the last door on the left before they got to the double doors at the end of the wide hall.

"On the rare occasions when you aren't sleeping with us you will sleep here," Domina Peak opened the door, "Take a quick look around."

Denise looked into what appeared to be a nondescript bedroom with solid antique furniture. The room had the same partially paneled walls as the hallway, except the upper wall was a green pastel with white ceiling with a ceiling fan light combo. The room had a small writing type desk, vanity, a chest of drawers and was dominated by a neatly made four-poster bed with a quilted comforter in a red floral design, At the top of the bed, sitting between two big pillows was a brown teddy bear wearing a set of bib overalls and a tiny t-shirt. It looked worn but clean. A bear that had been hugged for many years.

"Oliver Bear!" Denise shouted and ran diving onto the bed and hugging the football sized bear, "I thought I wouldn't see you for months and that you had been tossed into some box," she babbled, hugging the stuffed animal like a long-lost child.

Denise realised what she must look like to her domina and lifted her head from hugging the bear to see her boss and domina smiling maternally at the scene. Not the cross or even amused expression she was expecting.

"Domina...how?"

"I mentioned Adam supervised the movers today. He remembered you talking about that little bear and kept him out of the packing. I figured it wouldn't do any harm. Given what I have learned about you today, I am doubly glad that he thought of it."

Denise suddenly realized that her leap on the bed had shifted the carrot impaling her ass. She shifted to sit on the bed and discreetly pushed her improvised butt plug back in. The zing of pleasure surprised her.