Story: New Employee. Chapters 36-37.

by BigBird74

36.

Our drive back to the hotel started out in complete silence. The manageress drove carelessly, obviously angry that I had been silly enough to leave the hotel, something she clearly had not considered likely. Her sharp, disjointed handling of the gear stick conveyed a sense of profound irritation. Not once did she look at me or even attempt to start a conversation. For my part, I was resolved to complete silence, unwilling to test these shark-infested waters for fear of having my head bitten off.

Yet this day also showed me something else. She cared. When I say cared, I do not mean in a loving or nurturing sense, at least I did not suspect that. No, she cared in a way that an owner of a proverbial golden goose might do to preserve their investment. That sense of protection helped to soothe my strained nerves as I lay back in the passenger seat of the car.

As we passed through the downtown and out towards the edges of town where the hotel was located, the passing images began to correspond with my own mental map. It was then I realised we were not going to the hotel and was instead going to the other side of town. The easy calm that had descended on me suddenly evaporated and my anxiety levels rose at a steady clip.

It took me several moments to build up the courage to ask where we were heading. I was not sure how she would react, but I knew how to soften the impact. I spoke with the thickest accent I could muster: “Miiiss. Where we headed? ‘Otel be thataway.”

The manageress’ lips curled upwards ever so slightly and she remained silent. My courage duly crumbled and the sullen silence overwhelmed any drive I might have had to continue asking. If it needed any more underlining, that moment illustrated how certain people are just comfortable with a dominant persona and others are not. Were some of us simply born to rule and others to serve? That thought, careless though profound sent a delicious erotic spasm through me, leading me to conclude that yes: I, at least, was born to serve and not to rule.

We pulled up in front of a large, gated complex about 20 minutes from the hotel. After keying in a code, the manageress drove into an underground car park with a reserved spot. In silence we walked to a side elevator and then travelled up a few storeys to what I presumed was her apartment. I say presumed because this was not the apartment of a mid-level manager of a second-tier hotel. This was approaching the status of a senior manager: plush furnishings, all tiled floors.

Her heels clacked noisily on the gleaming marble tiles. I followed after her, my eyes once more drawn to her legs and shoes, adopting a naturally submissive stoop as I followed her. When the manageress did finally deign to talk to me, it almost came out of the blue, catching me off guard.

“You were stupid. You have forced me to change my plans now. We cannot have you gallivanting about town as you wish.” She spoke in short sentences, a staccato rat-a-tat kind of speech similar to a mother telling off an errant child. Her next observation, brief and to the point, caught me off guard.

“I am being promoted and will be moving to New York. After this near debacle, I have decided you will come with me.” And, just like that, my near future was decided for me in an instant. If I looked shocked, it seemed to make very little difference. She walked away from me and into the front room. 

Her tone was authoritative and stern, “come.” All I could do was follow, all traces of my will to resist left behind in that prison cell downtown. I supposed she had read the situation perfectly and had seen my confidence was in pieces. In that moment, my transformation from Katherine, one of the richest heiresses in the land, to Marta, a penniless immigrant maid, was almost completed. I felt such comfort in her protection. She had rescued me from potential oblivion and unquestioned obedience now felt a natural extension of this. Everything depended on her. I decided nothing any more.

Before the last two days, I had been itching to find out more about ‘Katherine’ and how things had been evolving there. In the darkness of the past 48 hours, I had lost track of everything. I had felt so helpless. So powerless. Now as I reflected on that experience and felt safe for the first time in days, I could also add to that list that I felt …. on fire. As the manageress reclined on the edge of an expensive looking leather sofa, totally unbidden I kneeled some ten yards from her.

“Good girl!” She purred. “You understand much better now the hold I have over you. One phone call and you would be ruined. Your only choice then would be to either keep up the charade and be deported or face ridicule, humiliation and possibly jail.” She snapped her finger and thumb and I crawled to her feet. I had witnessed this scene before, in a few of the videos I used to watch online. Was it possible, she had too? My phone browsing records probably made interesting reading for the manageress. Right now though, as her fingers stroked my head and I kissed her feet, I was burning up like a piece of kindling. My future completely in her hands and my will to try to resist gone.

37.

The next few days could almost have been considered a holiday for Marta, shorn as she was of her duties at the hotel. I was not having her wandering off again and ruining my plans yet further. Once I had the heiress busy worshipping my feet and legs, she was so erotically charged I could have demanded almost anything from her. I had spent a few happy hours wandering through the meandering lanes of her darkest desires. The time spent perusing her browser history had proved eye opening. I had considered myself reasonably experienced in the fetishes and play surrounding the BDSM world, but even I was taken aback by some of the things I found buried in there.

It was little surprise that the girl was virtually in heaven as I secured onto her a pair of leg cuffs, chained a dozen or so inches apart, with wrist cuffs similarly connected, both of which restricted her movements to a swaying waddle. A collar containing a GPS tracker completed the humiliating ensemble and removed all thoughts she may have had of making a run for it. Not that she had anywhere to run to. Still the effect of such props is typically huge and it was no different for Marta. A slave in her own mind one moment and then, with the application of a few items, a slave in actuality. 

I saw how her body tremble and leak pure happiness as she was bound up like a common slave.

Much had happened over the past few days. Things I felt Marta should know about and things I resolved to keep from her at any cost, at least until a moment of my choosing and profit. The news that we were going to New York had started this latest wave of depravity in the rich heiress. It had obviously shaken her and shown her again, if any emphasis were now needed, that she had lost all ability to shape events herself. My reassurances that everything would be okay calmed the poor thing’s nerves and she was soon literally eating from hand. I explained how I had obtained a promotion from Katherine Webb. The introduction of Katherine into the moment had pushed Marta to begin stroking herself, her wet fingers now making a lewd slurping and squelching noise as her excitement grew. She implored me to tell her more about Katherine’s life now, finding the widening gap between what she understood as Katherine’s life and what I was making it in reality to be clearly intoxicating.

I threw her a few bones. The news that I was to be Katherine’s assistant now almost sent the poor wench over the edge. But a sharp tap on the nose pulled the little bitch back from the brink of an orgasm. I had figured it would make it simpler to keep this charade going for a bit longer, considering the other news I had not let onto. Whatever her current delusions and lunacy, Marta was a smart girl with finely attuned senses and I knew I must not let on that I was hiding anything from her. She was looking at me in a way that I perceived to mean trouble, as though she could somehow tell I was not telling her everything.

It was at that moment, I decided to indulge her fantasy to the fullest and divert her attentions. “Of course. I will need somewhere to stay while in New York. Katherine suggested I live in her apartment.” I smiled knowing that this seemingly throwaway comment would send Marta into raptures of pleasure. Her gasps of raw energy told me I had hit the mark and I did not let go.

“Yes I will need a maid there. And. Well she agreed I could use a hotel maid. I am not sure how long it will be for. Katherine is out of the country right now and will not be back for a little while yet. We may need to work on your disguise a little more…….” I paused. Marta was climaxing on the floor in front of me. I slid a single foot to her lips and she duly kissed and licked them.

Make no mistake: we were not lovers and would never become so, though we were clearly hardening our relationship into that of a Mistress and slave. Yet all plans unravel and I had already seen the warning signals on the horizon. The move to New York was for two reasons: the stated one of furthering my career and the unstated one of moving careers. Not everything was happy in the Webb family corporation and I needed to protect myself in the best possible manner. If I could pull this off while also enjoying myself, what harm could there be in that?

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