The training of Ophelia (Masters of the Mansion Series) Read online

  “Follow me,” was all that he said as he led me through the opulent foyer and into a very impressive office.

  The walls were lined with bookshelves and the décor was definitely that of the male species.

  The walls were painted beige; with a chocolate trim. A huge antique desk sat in front of a large window that overlooked the perfectly manicured lawn.

  The office was decorated with nothing but the finest of antiques and collectables.

  When I entered, there was a man behind the desk, but his leather office chair was turned towards the window.

  A rich and authoritative voice was directed towards me. “Sit, please.”

  I could feel my heart race, this was nothing like the feeling that I had with the man who answered the door. I felt confident and in control with him, but this man was throwing me off of my game, and I had not even viewed his visage as of yet.

  I sat and resisted the temptation to squirm, waiting for him to say something. Finally………..he spoke.

  “Do you know who I am?”

  “I haven’t seen you; how could I possibly know you?”

  ***

  I chuckled as I listened to her response. Even though I had put her on edge, she was still pressing through it.

  “Your name is not ‘Olivia,’ your name is ‘Ophelia’ and when you are in my presence, you shall be referred to as such.”

  “I hate that name,” I hissed. It is the reason that I never use it. (It was my birth name)

  I turned my chair for the first time, viewing my new toy.

  I gasped, as he turned looking at me. I mean—that I literally gasped.

  The man that I viewed was dark and dangerous. His coal black hair and cold black piercing eyes were challenging me.

  He donned a beige suit with a black button up shirt, complete with cufflinks and a printed tie. His hair was jet black and cut in layers. He was large and none of it appeared to be fat; only thick, solid muscle. He looked like a rich business man or an Italian mobster.

  He was spit polished from top to bottom, as were all things that pertained to the mansion.

  He interlocked his fingers behind his neck, as if preparing for a response. He stared, just stared.

  I met his gaze for as long as I could and then looked down fiddling with my fingers. Why did I feel like I was in the Principal’s office being reprimanded?

  “Ophelia, you work for me now.”

  “I work for the Magazine,” I countered, with a sudden surge of courage.

  “I own the magazine, Ophelia,” he calmly stated.

  My mouth literally fell open.

  “Close your mouth Ophelia, before something flies in.”

  “Excuse me,” I stuttered, not believing that he had said something that I dreamed the night before.

  “Close….Your…..Mouth…….Before something ……..Flies in…….”

  He drew the words out, as if he was speaking to a child.

  I shook my head, trying to process how I could have dreamed this. Suddenly, my face and neck flushed a crimson glow as I thought of his assault on my body; the assault that my dream lover had performed on me the night before.

  “Are you nervous, Ophelia?” He chuckled, but it was more of a sadistic laugh.

  “I don’t think that I am the person to conduct this interview.”

  I rose to leave and his voice cut through the air: “Sit, Ophelia!”

  I sat more out of fear—than obedience.

  Master Richard Baron

  I rose making my way towards the professional blonde. I bent whispering into her ear. “You don’t have a choice Ophelia. I am your employer.

  Now, I know how that independent little mind of yours works and if you try to quit my magazine, I will ruin your career. If you try to leave this area, then I will ruin your career internationally. I am a very powerful man Ophelia, with a tad of a sadistic streak to my personality. You don’t want to get on my bad side.”

  He pulled me up out of my chair, but not before I viewed the hardening in the outline of his suit pants.

  The bastard had gotten a hard on by disciplining me. What would he do to me? I sexually excited him. What would he do?!?

  He pulled me from the chair, ushering me into the sitting room—the sitting room that looked just like the one that I had seen in my dream.

  I panicked; Oh no. Had this Master of control abducted me the night before and somehow drugged me?

  He had. I knew that he had by the sore, used feeling, and the throbbing between my legs. I had felt it earlier this morning and dismissed the thought, making excuses to myself that it was due to the dream.

  He pulled me down on his lap and growled in my ear, “Does this look familiar?”

  “Why are you doing this? I whined; “Why, why, why…”

  “Because I can,” he drawled.

  I looked up to view the woman from the night before; being brought in and chained in the door way.

  The European man from earlier accompanied her.

  He began to whisper in her ear and I could see tears welling up in her eyes as he spoke to her.

  ***

  I was rock hard as I began grinding up under my little victim. My hand made its way up her inner thigh, as my threats were whispered in her ear.

  “You belong to me now Ophelia! Get rid of your little vanilla boyfriends that cater to your every whim or I’m going to hurt them. You are not going to be slutting around and fucking whomever you please.

  Now you will be my slut. You belong to me now. You are my property now. You are no longer permitted to so much as have an orgasm without my permission.”

  “You’re crazy; you can’t do this!”

  “Silence! Or I am going to strap you down and use you in front of William and my slave!”

  “Oh gosh; you are crazy.”

  “You have no idea, Ophelia; no idea whatsoever. You have no idea the lengths that I will go to in order to keep you.”

  “I’m going to cum,” I groaned.

  He jerked his hand from between my legs and yanked me from his lap, pulling me into the Master suite that he had ravished me in the night before.

  He sat in a chair and commanded me to strip.

  My fingers trembled. I was barely able to undo the buttons that would soon open and leave me naked, vulnerable, and at his will.

  Master Richard Baron

  I watched her trembling hands and it only excited me more. It excited me to know that I was the cause of her distress.

  “I’m going to fuck you Ophelia, does that you scare you? Does it excite you? Does the thought of knowing that you were taken by a stranger excite you? Does it excite you knowing that you are once again under my control, Ophelia?”

  “No!” I hissed.

  “Liar,” I calmly answered. “Leave your shoes on Ophelia and crawl over here. If you don’t obey me; I am going to turn you over my knee and wear your ass out.”

  I knew that he would do it; so I made my way over to him crawling on my knees.

  “I am a sadistic man, Ophelia; so you would do well to obey me……..in all things………”

  My face flamed with embarrassment. The bastard was getting excited humiliating me.

  I wrapped my fist in her hair, pulling her head back and forcing her to look at me. “You will address me as Master—in my bed chamber!”

  I began begging and immediately I could feel the liquid literally pouring down my inner thigh.

  “I’m going to fuck you, Ophelia. I’m going to fold your legs back and plunge into that tight little hole of yours; while I stare you down and listen to your cries for mercy. Get your ass over on that bed”

  I scurried to get up, when his voice cut through the air, “Crawl Ophelia!”

  I swayed; crawling and conscious of the fact that I was totally exposed to this man who was now proclaiming, ownership of me.

  I looked away, as he undressed.

  “Look at me!”

  I meekly eyed him as he stripped, neatl
y placing his tailored suit over the chair that he had been sitting in.

  ***

  I stroked myself, eyeing her and listening as her begging ensued.

  “Please don’t hurt me; I promise that I will be good.” I had no intentions of getting on this guy’s bad side—at least until I could get a read on him and figure out just how far that he would go to maintain control. I had no intentions of crossing him for now—I was biding my time.

  There was also a part of me that knew that I could take what was happening to me and use it as research. As kinky as things were in the mansion; safe, sane sex was practiced and the rules were followed with strictest discipline—I was actually in a safe environment to experiment sexually. Ironically enough I couldn’t be in better hands as far as being taken care of and kept from any manner of danger.

  “Say I will be your good girl and then put your legs back—do it!”

  I commanded her harshly once again, when I noted her resistance.

  ***

  My fingers trembled as I spread myself open and began to beg for mercy. “Please don’t hurt me, I’ll be good; please. I’m sore from last night.”

  He lowered his head between my legs and began lapping as I ran my fingers through his raven hair. I had no idea that under normal conditions Master Richard Baron would have corrected a slave for touching him without his permission.

  Over and over, he brought me right to the edge of orgasm and stopped.

  My whines had now become cries of agony for release. I knew from research that I had done that Masters and Doms use orgasm denial as a form of gaining control. It is unlike any other experience and unless you have experienced it, you don’t understand how a person can be brought to the point of begging. Once that you have experienced being brought to the edge over and over, you understand the concept of it—and why it is such a powerful tool in the hands of the Dom or Master.

  ***

  Listening to her beg me—like I knew that she had never begged any other man, made me feel like attacking her and consuming every single bit of her; body and soul.

  But when I saw the tears streaming down her face; I gave her what she cried for and I licked, lapped, and sucked, until she was a quivering mass of submission.

  I slid over her and huskily whispered in her ear, “Pin those legs back. You better keep them pinned back, or you’re getting that sweet little ass of yours whipped black and blue.

  I watched her eyes roll back in her head as I pushed into her. She immediately began begging me.

  “Please, please, don’t hurt me; it feels like your tearing me open.”

  I leaned down and tenderly took her breast in my mouth suctioning and flicking my tongue over it and the fluid in her between her legs began flowing.

  “Oh, you make me feel so good; I’ve never, I’ve never; ahhhhhhh, ahhhhh, soooooooo fucking good.” She was crying out to me.

  “Cum for me baby,” I commanded as I plunged in and out of her. Her contorted face told me all that I needed to know.

  Man, she was so tight, like a vice gripped velvet glove—and she was mine…

  Chapter Three

  Ophelia

  I sat on my bed with my laptop trying to write an article for the magazine that had hired me.

  How in the hell was I supposed to write an article on, ‘The training of a slave;’ when I was the ‘slave’ that was being trained?

  Not the same way that these women were being trained; to be sold off to some Master. Was this even legal—I mean seriously?

  Maybe that was the reason for the whole cloak and dagger mystery. Hell, I didn’t even know Richard’s surname. And the worst thing of all was that I was suffering from ‘writer’s block,’ an affliction that I never suffered with.

  I was one of the rare Author’s that never suffered from the dreaded plague of being ‘blocked up;’ with no flow of words. Richard was not inspiring me, he was hindering me and that wasn’t going to work for me. I would most certainly be letting him know about it too. If he thought that he was going to intrude on my creativity, screw him and his job, he was probably ‘bluffing’ anyway.

  Nobody was that powerful—were they?

  Master Richard Baron

  Richard leaned back in his chair and let his mind drift back to the night before. The look on her face as she cried out begging him for mercy; was priceless.

  He felt a stirring in his loins immediately. This girl brought out something in him that he had not experienced in a long time.

  He wanted her, in the worst sort of way; the kind of way that would not take no for an answer.

  He thought back to the first day that he seen her. Her long, tall, and full busted figure filled out the suit that she wore. Her long layered blonde hair had a wild, but yet classy look to it. She had addressed that room full of men with no fear and by the time the meeting was over, she had them eating out of the palm of her hand.

  She was everything that intrigued him, a strong and in control woman. She was beautiful, smart, independent, but more than anything—she was a challenge. She was a challenge and by the time that he was done with her, she would submit to no other man but him. Or so Richard thought…

  Chapter Four

  Ophelia

  “I have seen enough, now have one of your cronies come and pick up the story.” I spoke into my phone with courage.

  I was feeling good, in fact, quite confident—over the phone that is. I had it all figured out, if I could just stay out of his presence, I would be fine.

  “So when are they coming? I have things to do.”

  “Oh, they will be right over, Ophelia.”

  I should have known that it was too easy—just too fucking easy.

  I had sorely underestimated my opponent.

  Master Richard Baron

  I opened the door and my face fell. There stood Richard in all of his glory. The proverbial, “If looks could kill,” took on new meaning with this man. He was pissed and his coal black eyes literally permeated with the heat of that anger.

  “Get in the fucking car now, Ophelia! And you won’t be coming back here!”

  “I need to pack an overnight bag,” I screeched, as he pulled me along.

  “An overnight bag my ass!” He hissed, as he commanded the driver that accompanied him to lock my door and give him the keys when he finished.

  Geez, does the guy think of everything? Now he has got my keys

  Little did I know that those keys would be the least of my worries.

  ***

  “Richard, Richard, Richard, please, I promise I’ll be good.”

  Telling him that ‘I would be good’ seemed to be the only thing that worked with him—so I told him what I thought that he wanted to hear.

  I walked up behind my little victim and growled in her ear, “Don’t you dare turn to look at me.” I watched, as she shook her head up and down.

  I stood trembling and crying, as he growled into my ear. “I am very disappointed in you.”

  “I, I, I’m,” was all that I was able to stutter.

  “Shh, I did not give you permission to speak, tsk, tsk, you are on speech restriction, young lady.”

  I circled my little victim as I spoke. “Now Ophelia, I bet that you are wondering why I have you subdued outside with metal pipe straps.”

  When I tried to answer, he viciously grabbed me by the hair of the head and growled through clenched teeth, “What part of speech restriction don’t you understand? But……. There is always the ‘dental gag’ method.”

  His words hit me like a brick wall. I had done enough research on BDSM to know I wasn’t saying anything else and fucking up my $15,000.00 porcelain veneered mouth.

  “I thought so; being that you invested so much money into that mouth of yours.” He hissed.

  “How the fuck, did he know that?” I thought.

  As if reading my mind he continued speaking, “I have access to much more than your dental records, sweetie.”

  Sweetie my ass, I am not
your baby, sweetie, honey or anything else!

  He leaned in like we had a secret and facetiously said, “It’s because I’m going to cane you. Remember that little secret that I told you about me having a sadistic streak? That is a rhetorical question by the way—one not in need of an answer.” He continued in a matter of fact tone as if we were discussing the weather, a ball game, or some trivia fact.

  All the while I was in panic mode. I had researched enough to know how badly a cane hurt.

  I couldn’t talk and I kept trying to think of ways to get out of this ass whipping—that he was describing in such detail. It all came back to one thing: I needed my mouth to speak. Shit! This was NOT good!

  His voice cut through my chaotic thoughts.

  “Well, I think that when I informed you of my sadistic nature, that you probably would have done well to listen.”

  He got right in my face as if reading my mind and stated, “You crafty little bitch, you underestimated me didn’t you? As professional as you are you underestimated your opponent. Shame on you.” he wagged his finger in my face for emphasis—which only served to infuriate me.

  I began to struggle against the metal and he chuckled, “Someone is going to have ligature marks in the morning.”

  He reached in his pocket and removed what appeared to be a switch blade and flicked it open.

  ***

  Oh the look on that bitch’s face: when I flicked that blade open; priceless!

  “Oh don’t worry……… I‘m not going to cut you……….deeply…..”

  ***

  A sadistic chuckle ensued and he began tediously shredding my clothing from my body until I stood nude, in only thigh highs and heels.

  ***

  I grabbed a handful of her hair pulling her into my mouth as I held the knife to her throat and kissed her trembling lips. She began to whimper and whine as tears streamed down her face. I was so hard that it hurt and I was just getting started. There was no doubt that this girl—brought out the beast in me.