In the last chapter, I told you that after the auction I flew back immediately to Nice. Itís not quite true, as I first had to pick up my rented car, which was parked beside the barns of the Resort. At the time I left the auction the barns were brightly illuminated and the main door was open. I could not resist taking a glance inside (You would have too; Iím sure, wouldnít you?).
To say the least I was amazed!
The barns were huge, as I couldnít see the end from the main doors. At the left side, close to the door, a woman was seated at a workbench in front of a pile of leatherís items; she was polishing, oiling and cleaning some straps. She was seated on a strange stool with only one leg (like the one you can see in the Swiss mountains when a farmer is milking a cow). The seat itself was a rod welded to the leg, and the rod was exactly between the womanís ass cheeks. She was naked from waist to toes and her ankles were cuffed at the bottom of the single stool leg. She had to rest her elbows on the workbench to maintain her balance. She was gagged with a black rubber ball (seems to be mandatory at the Resort). Moving a bit to my left I could see that her wrists were cuffed too and the cuffs were attached closely to nipple clamps allowing her to make only small movements with her hands. I doubt that anyone can smile under a gag, but I had the strong feeling that she was smiling and inviting me to move further inside the barns. I gently patted her head showing that I understood her invitation.
Just past the workbench there was a large opening. Through it I could see some kind of gymnastic room with all the facilities, like rings, horses, beams, and even a treadmill. But none were being used, an elegant woman was standing in the middle of the room, I could only see her back but she was surrounded by five pony girls with hoods and bits and also another mandatory item in the Resort, namely chastity belts. Except for these items, they were not bound; they had their arms extended to their sides at shoulder level and their booted feet apart by approximately sixty centimeters. The elegant woman was training them to move their breasts and buttocks up and down, by clenching and unclenching both their chest muscles and the ones around their pubic bones at the same time. This was done rhythmically and all the ponies were sweating from the exercise, small pools of water were forming around their feet. Iíd seen some go-go girls dancing topless, but the difference between these girls and the ponies was just about the same as the difference between water and wine. I stood, drinking in their beauty. The sight was gorgeous!
I had to mentally kick myself to move further onto this really strange planet.
The next opening showed me a large room with several motorized massage tables. Only two were occupied. The ponies were lying flat on their bellies. Their limbs were stretched and bound to hooks at the tablesí corners. From what I could see they were completely naked and shining from the oil two women were pouring and massaging onto their bodies. Guess what? The two women were gagged and belted, but in addition they each also wore a leather blindfold. Each massager was bound to the table by a rather long chain attached to her belt. Their ankles were cuffed together. Every time they had to move to massage a different part of the ponyís body, they had to hop from one location to the other maintaining their balance with their hands, the chain rattling on the floor.
Such sweet music for a pervert cop!
Iíve said that the reclining women were ponies, but from the way they were purring, I have my doubts now!
The following opening gives a view into a large storeroom where two men were repairing or cleaning the different kinds of sulkies.
The last one on my left -- I was at the end of the barn now -- was a huge bathroom where two naked, but gagged and belted ponies were hanging by their wrists. Their respective feet were held apart by a rod and they were at least fifty centimeters above the floor. Around them several women were working with soapy sponges or scrubbing tools. One of the ponies was being dried with a fan. At her feet was a kneeling woman giving her a pedicure. The kneeling woman was a real sight. Let me explain, she was kneeling but also seated on a real huge butt plug. The latter was embedded in the floor. She had a belt with straps attached to rings in the floor, which implied that she couldnít move upwards. Her hair was braided with a rope which went through a pulley attached on the floor to her nipple rings. From her rings two small ropes were attached to the pony belt. Every time the pony moved, even just slightly turning, the pedicure-giverís nipples were stretched. Fortunately for me she was gagged. But the predicament is worst than what I thought at first, because to do her job she had to decide to work with her eyes looking at the pony belt or with her eyes looking at the pony feet or in other words if she wanted her nipples pulled up or down.
I traced my way back and on my left I could now see several empty cubicles with barred doors. All the cells were empty, but not for long I guessed.
I had to open all the car windows and breath deeply and slowly to ride calmly back to the airport.
Sunday morning 11 am, home!
I knew that Sunday was an off day, but anyway I summoned my three maids to my office, offered seats to them and explained everything that had happened the last four weeks. When I say everything, it was everything: the Resort, Marc and his pony girl, my trip with a sulky pulled out by four pony girls, Emilie, Emiliesís staff, the napkins and ball-gag gag, the chastity belts, the auction, my fantasy, Nadine, Nadineís mother, the Contract; in brief, EVERYTHING and it was not politically correct!
I had three fish in front of me, rhythmically opening their mouths. No word, no giggle, just a dense silence.
I looked intensely at them while mentally counting slowly up to one hundred.
Silence. I had to say something more.
"I understand that what youíve learned is a shock to you (obvious, I agree, but if youíre better than me, why donít you take my place?) But you know me well. I prefer to say things frankly and completely, rather than to lie or hide things"
Silence. I continued.
They were shocked maybe because theyíd discovered my dark side, or maybe I was touching something deep in their souls (buying a woman is maybe not what a woman wants to hear). I do care, but I donít know.
I stood up, opened a closet, a refrigerant one left of my desk, and took a bottle of the best white wine you can find in the world, a bottle of Corton Charlemagne 1986 (Itís not a joke!, Corton Charlemagne is a grand cru from Burgundy, bottled in a small village called Aloxe Corton). From a closet to the right of my desk, I took four Burgundy glasses, the bigger ones (you can empty a full bottle into one glass), poured one of the glasses (donít worry, weíre not on the way to drink four bottles!), tasted the wine (I did not spit it!), it was perfect, the right temperature (room one, like for the red wines), very long in the mouth, first impression was humus, then it developed into full aroma of wild fruits.
I poured the four glasses then handed one to each girl, took mine and saluted them.
Silence. We drank. Silence again. JoŽlle soon started to relax. Nicole had red spots on each cheek. Chantal stared blankly to her glass.
Again, it was my job to break the silence.
"I want you to understand that I canít go back now. Nadineís on her way to Nice she should arrive Monday night. If you canít accept her and what I want to do to her, I can understand that and if you want to resign from your position I will accept it."
Cacophony. Three hens in the backyard when you throw corn seeds to them. The three women were all talking at the same time. I could not understand a word.
I drank. Three minutes later, silence again.
"Would please say it again, but one by one, this time, please?"
JoŽlle was the first one to speak (Iíve got to say that Iíd known JoŽlle for 27 years. When I was at the High School, I used to sail a lot during the long summer holydays. I was rented as a skipper by a small company in Cannes, and was chartering with customers along the Mediterranťe. JoŽlle was my cook on the different boats I was skipping those four years.
"Michel, I didnít know that you were in that kind of stuff too. I know about Marcís kinkiness and Iím really happy that he has finally found his pony girl. Iíve known you for a long time, so Iím sure that we will have fun with Nadine."
She stood up, came to me and kissed me on both cheeks.
Nicole was giggling like a teenager.† Was it the wine or was it because JŲelle kissed me?
Chantal looked sternly at me and said, "Iím not a member of a womenís league, but I donít like to be taken as an object and therefore I donít like that another girl is taken as an object and I donít like what you want to do to a girl you donít know."
I explained the Contract in more details and the role of Emilie and also said that as long as my three maids were staying with me and with Nadine, it would only be a game I could stop at any time and I would definitely appreciate if any of them had the courage to tell me when they think Iím going too far.
Chantal was smiling as she said, "Ok Iíll stay with you, but I warn you, I will act as Nadineís protector."
Settled. I could carry on the plot, but it was already noon.
I was not afraid by what Chantal said. She didnít know the bitch called Nadine, her arrogant look, her disdain towards other people. I bet dollars against biscuits than in less than a month I will have to protect Nadine from my maids.
I asked Chantal if she can still drive (Corton Charlemagne, is a heavy wine going directly to your brain) because I wanted to invite my three maids to "Chez Pierre" in Cannes.
It was one oíclock when we started. Just invite a girl to a lunch and she has to change clothes, perfume, jewelry and make-up. So imagine inviting three girls!
We took the Audi; I sat in the back with JoŽlle. Chantal was a perfect and fast driver, the road can zigzagged as much as possible but none of our hair was moving when inside the car, especially in the Audi.
At "Chez Pierre" they ordered un "plateau de la mer royal" for three (roughly translated into "a king plate of seafood") and I took a sea spider and asked the waiter for water and a bottle of white Cassis "La ferme blanche" (OK, OK you should never drink a wine of a smaller rank after a Corton Charlemagne, but as the latter is the top one among the white wines, there are no better ones, and "Chez Pierre" wasnít selling Corton Charlemagne, and Corton was not welcomed with seafood. But, in fact, why am I justifying my choice?)
They enjoyed the place, the sight, the food, the wine. They were totally relaxed. I ordered coffee (a strong Italian one). We were the last patrons in the restaurant. I was enjoying their pleasure, but I had to go back to business.
"OK girls, Nadine will take the position of house Mistress. She will have to take care of everything: garden, house, parties and any social events I will ask her to organize. She has the skills to do it, but I will put enough pressure on her shoulders that she will make mistakes (I was not going to explain to my three maids that the pressure would come from them because Nadine would start by being a real bitch with them. My poor maids would find that out pretty quickly). Every mistake must be punished, and I would choose the correct punishment for the mistakes. One of the punishments would be, of course, enforced nudity for a certain length of time. As Chantal wanted to act as Nadineís protector, I was sure that I would not be carried away."
"I have to add for the sake of completeness, that I wonít command you after Nadine arrives. You will all be under her thumb."
"Nadine is coming tomorrow night and Chantal will pick her up at the Nice main station. Questions?"
None. I paid and we went to the car.
During this small trip, Nicole explained her thoughts about nudity. Saying that nude or clothed it is the same for her, that she will certainly not be affected if she had to do her maid duties in the nude, that she did not see why it could be interesting to have a nude woman in the house, even for a man. She continued to utter nonsense like that until we reached the car. I suspected that she was a bit drunk.
The car was parked along the covered market of Cannes, it is a big place but no one was wandering around at that time of the day.
JoŽlle had a demure look (nothing good was ever coming when she had such a look).
"OK Nicole, let us qualify what you have just said. Strip now!"
Nicole paled. She was mumbling something about being naked at home and that in the street was not the same and she did not want to strip here.
I forgot to tell you that if they took one hour to be ready to go to lunch with me, itís because they put on their Sunday suits. Nicole was wearing a very good-looking knee length red dress with big white blossoms, with at least three huge petticoats that made her look like an upside down tulip from her waist to her knees. The top of the dress was cinched to her waist and largely cut showing completely her shoulders and most of her cleavage. She wore high heels, very high red sandals of about 11 cms.
JoŽlle opened her purse and removed two small leather belts. She made a loop around the left ankle of Nicole than passed one end of the strap under the shoe sole and then back; buckled the belt and added a small padlock into the last available hole of the belt. Nicole was still tantalized when JoŽlle completed her right ankle.
"If you donít want to obey my little slave (Iíve guessed correctly, Nicole IS JoŽlleís slave), youíre going to walk back home"
To understand why this was a chastisement you have to know that there are at least fifteen kilometers between "Chez Pierre" restaurant and my home.
Chantal dared not to say a word. Nicole was weeping silently. I was helping JoŽlle to climb into the car.
Chantal was now seated, I opened my door and started to climb when I heard the noise of a zip. Nicole was undressing in the middle of the road.
She was braless, and her beautiful pair of firm boobs were pointing straight ahead, like gravity didnít affect them; her nipples were already rock hard, protruding at least two centimeters out of her dark large brown areoles. She was soon only wearing her petticoats and she was holding her dress to JoŽlle.
JoŽlle got out of the car, opened the trunk, dumped the dress into it and stood waiting for the petticoats. Nicole was looking at a spot right in front of her sandals. She was blushing and not moving.
"We donít have all the afternoon my dear little slave, thus hurry up now!"
In fact, there were five petticoats the outer one being laced with small pearls sewed onto it. She was also panty-less and after holding her last petticoat out to JoŽlle she hid her shaved pussy with both hands.
JoŽlle closed the trunk, re-opened her purse and took out another leather strap.
"Modesty is not in order after what you said. Hands in the back!"
Nicole was still looking at this so important spot on the road, but she complied with JoŽlleís command and soon her hands were bound in the small of her back.
She has stripped from her red dress but she is still red, this time without the white blossoms. Her labia are already fully engorged and I could see the head of her clitoris pointing out of its hood, and she had been telling us that being naked would have no impact on her.
JoŽlle helped her climb into the front seat, and then fastened her seat belt.
The trip was made without a word, and Nicole found another very interesting spot to look at under the dashboard.