Wicked Spin
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Views: 19621 Created: 2007.09.28 Updated: 2007.09.28

A tale out of Africa

Chapter 1

We'd been in Africa for about a month. My wife, Maria, a beautiful Brazilian IT consultant, was getting settled in, organizing the house, hiring a maid, gardener and security personnel. The weather was warm and sticky, like an all too hot and humid day in Los Angeles (minus the smog).

My work was keeping me very busy, so I was glad that Maria was helping with the domestic stuff. Of course she exhibited a fair amount of frustration at not being allowed to work in her profession in Africa (something about work permits), and was getting rather anxious.

Over dinner, one evening, which the maid, Pane (Paw-ne), had dutifully prepared, she brought up the subject of what she was expected to do, day in, day out, and that with all of the time I was spending away from the house, she "wasn't getting enough attention". It was a subject that I tended to avoid because I knew all too well that she was referring to sex, or the lack of it. I tried to keep my cool, so to speak, rather than get embroiled in the fact that my taste for sex had diminished and that over the past year our "acts of intimacy" had been at an all time low, zero.

At 35, Maria was very active, certainly professionally, before the big move to this sub-Sahara region. This was going to be a tough gig for both of us.

She had hoped that after a couple of years of moving around the world on various projects, we could settle down for while, and get back to a normal life, which, in her mind, included a regular dose of sex and perhaps some children.

I was a 45-year-old executive in the oil business, so moving was part of my professional lifestyle and I never had given it a second thought until I married Maria about a year ago. Six months in Northern Europe, three months in South America, a year in Saudi (that had been a record stay), for me it was as natural as living in the burbs; commuting to and from work daily, and 'oh, don't forget to pick-up some milk on the way home, honey'.

During the whole dinner, Maria was calm, but her frustration was becoming visible; flushed features, higher-pitched voice. I finally convinced her that I had an idea, if she would give me a couple of days to think it through, and that by the weekend I'd lay it out for her.

Pane cleared the table, cleaned up and left for the day; she would return at 08:00, as she did every morning.

We retired to our respective home-offices, though I had no idea what she'd be doing in hers, probably sending e-mails to her family and friends about how frustrating things were. What could she be complaining about; we had a first-class lifestyle, even though we might at time be living in a third-world country. She wanted for nothing: a couple of trips year, shopping in Paris, sunning in Rio.

I sat at my desk and went over our dinner discussion. I may be a little mischievous, but not mean. I did have a germ of an idea at dinner, but I now began to plot out a scenario, which I believed would satisfy Maria needs.

Let's see: Maria is Brazilian, a people who benefited greatly from the slave trade of the 18th and 19th century. She wanted to keep busy. She yearned for more attention and a lot more sex. We lived in a fairly large and secure villa, with separate quarters for the maid, gardener and guards.

As I pondered these details, the "germ of an idea" began to sprout. I sat at the computer and started laying out what would be needed to make this happen, surfing the net to capture some new ideas. By the end of the evening, I had structured a simple but, I thought, effective program that would allow me to focus on my work, yet provide Maria with what she desired.

Over the next few evenings, I continued refining and documenting the many scenarios that would keep my dear Maria out of trouble and surfed the net to find the kind of items that would enhance the overall experience.

On Friday evening, Pane prepared dinner, as usual. Pane was 23, nice features and curves, single and totally dedicated to her work. By local standards, she was very well paid.

While Pane left us to enjoy her simple, but nicely spiced local cuisine, Maria and I had an opportunity to relax and exchange the usual "end-of-day pleasantries". Somehow I knew that Maria was anxious to find out about my "plan", but I convinced her to wait till after dinner, when Pane had left for the weekend. Maria seemed even more anxious now.

Once we had locked-up for the night, the guards on perimeter watch, I suggested that Maria and I get comfortable in the living room and that I would outline my proposal.

In my usual fashion, I covered what I understood to be her needs, which she confirmed by a simple uh-uuh, or nod of the head. She added to or re-emphasised a couple of area, but on the whole, she seemed comfortable that I had identified the salient points. I also told her that she was beautiful, warm and caring, but that my lack of attention was, in large measure, due to my focus on my work, at least in the beginning of this long-term project, but that in about a month or so, things would settle down.

Somehow her eyes and body language spoke volumes of incredulity; I guessed I'd used similar words before.

I then asked her if she was prepared to make a deal, a pact so to speak, which, when realized, would provide her with the level of personal satisfaction she desired. She was hesitant, but wanted to hear more.

I told her that one of my fantasies was to have a full time house-slave. The slave would have to perform all of the duties set out by the master or mistress, without question, and would, for all purposes, be kept in bondage (figuratively or literally) for a period of one month. At the end of the one-month period, all transgressions, failures to comply in a timely manner, insubordination, etc. would be tabulated, with the corresponding score used to determine the duration of an extension after the month.

Her eyes were beginning to light up, as she inquired as to what was permitted during the enslavement period. I told that everything was possible, save for causing any permanent damage or injury. She was now getting visibly excited, squirming in her chair. That's when I gave her the "coup de grace"; the one thing that I knew would put her over the edge, one way or another.

"My wish is for you to be that house-slave", was all I said.

Her jaw dropped, but I also think that she shuddered for a brief moment, and I bet that her panties were a lot wetter than before.

"But what do I get out of it", she said. "I've never done that kind of kinky stuff before. And for a whole month?"

I knew I had her. I went to my desk, pulled out a file and returned to Maria, still sitting in the living room.

The first document I pulled out was a one-page contract. The terms were purposely left simple, without the expected legalese, but certainly covering all of the points I had mentioned earlier, including a table for how transgressions would be dealt with. This was to be a binding agreement with no out-clause, save for health or security reasons. This was not meant to be coercive, but entered into of her own free will.

I then went to the closet and pulled out a tripod-mounted vidcam. I positioned it close to the coffee table, clearly framing her and the contract. I told her that in order to protect herself and me against any form of prosecution or external pressures, we should record her reading the contract aloud, and witness her signing it.

She brought the contract closer and sat straight at the edge of the sofa. Looking at me, then at the contract, she began:

"I, Maria Lopez, a Brazilian citizen, of my own free will, with full knowledge of the content and of the stipulations described herein, do declare the following:

One. I have agreed that as of this date and for a period of no less than one month, I shall faithfully serve my Master or any person specifically designated by my Master.

Two. That I will discharge those duties as required, without question, objection or complaint to the best of my ability.

Three. For the period specified herein, I hereby accept that any transgression, omission, or other performance shortfalls will result in the application of the penalties as described below.

Four. I will accept such penalties during the enslavement period as may be dispensed and recognize that the enslavement may be extended, beyond the initial one month period, depending on the tabulated score at the end of the said period.

Five. I will not communicate the terms of this agreement to anyone and that I will only beg for relief if my health could be adversely affected.

Six. I further agree that during the enslavement period, I agree to follow all of the rules as posted from time to time, including but not limited to the complete removal of all body hair below the neck and to maintain said hair removal during the enslavement period."

She swallowed hard, and continued.

"Seven. I will maintain a strict diet and exercise routine in order to shed at least 10 pounds but no more than 15 pounds by the end of the enslavement period.

Eight. I declare having read and fully understood the list of penalties that may be applied during the enslavement period."

She then looked straight into the camera and said, "I agree". She picked-up the pen and signed at the bottom.

I turned off the camera, joined her on the sofa and pulled her towards me in a warm embrace. "I really love you, " I said, "one month will go by quickly, and if you follow all the rules, it'll make it easier on you. The formal portion of the agreement starts on Monday, though there are a few things we can dispense with this weekend."

She looked at me with some surprise, yet I could feel her excitement and acceptance of what the road she had voluntarily chosen.

After a few minutes I got up, pulled the tape out of the vidcam, picked-up the signed contract and locked it securely away in my safe.

I found her missing from the living room upon my return; the sound of the running bath confirming that she probably wanted to relax, alone, and finish what she had started, bringing herself to a quiet climax.

Around mid-morning on Saturday, I told her that I had made an appointment at one of the city's better health and beauty salons. She was to be pampered, cared for and take full advantage of the wide range of services available. I knew that she was in for several sessions to completely remove her body-hair, including her pubic region. By the end of the day, when I would pick her up, she'd have gone through massages and other therapies, that she would likely feel like a wet rag, and yes, experience for the first time a completely nude cunt rubbing against her silk underwear.

Sunday was pretty uneventful, save for going over some of the key rules that she'd be meant to strictly following in the coming weeks. One of the first rules was that she would have to have at least one orgasm a day for the first week, two a day in the second, until she would be climaxing four times a day by the end of the month. She obviously liked that part a lot, squirming in her chair, getting visibly uncomfortable. That contrasted sharply with her reaction when I detailed some of the punishment for offences, which included:

* Not reaching the daily orgasm quota: transferred to the next day + double the quota for that day.

* Exceeding daily orgasm quota: excess number transferred to the next day + double quota for that day.

* Not following an instruction: paddling, canning or whipping as determined by the offence.

* Failure to effectively keep all body hair removed: possibly permanent removal (discretionary).

* Failure to lose contracted weight: increase diet and exercise regime (from 1 to 2 hours per day).

* Exceeding contracted weight loss: forced-feeding until weight loss is reversed to starting level, followed by extreme exercise regime until weight is at satisfactory level (beyond enslavement period if needed).

* Failure to dress as instructed: deposited at the edge of town wearing the slutiest of clothing - appropriate security would be provided to ensure personal safety, yet without interfering in activities deemed necessary to "earn a ride home".

There were a few other items, but by this time Maria was probably having second thoughts about the enslavement, but I reminded her that she had committed to this on her own, without any recourse, and that the tape could be made available "to interested parties" to ensure her compliance.

By the end of Sunday afternoon, with only a glass of orange juice and a coffee as her sustenance for the day, I invited her to try on a highly-boned rubber corset, just to see if I had picked-out the right size. She was hungry, but I insisted that she put it on before dinner, because it would less comfortable on a full stomach.

I went to bedroom closet and pulled out a large box containing a number of items, including the corset. Meanwhile, Maria was removing her clothing, leaving her only clad in her panties; probably a little shy about her nude cunt area, though it didn't really matter either way as it was probably the last day she'd be able to wear them for a while. I moved towards her and wrapped the corset around from back to front, I attached it using the twelve hooks, the corset's loose lacing making the job easier. (The corset covered her body from just above the pubic area, over her hips, and ending in two semi circles just below her tits, lifting them slightly.)

I moved to the back and started tightening the lacing, ensuring that it was well adjusted around her body. I pulled at the laced, causing her skin at the back to fold somewhat against the increasing constriction. She was taking shorter breaths, but I still had not tightened it completely, giving her a chance to adjust. By the time I was through, she was beginning to complain a bit, though there was still about two inches of space left between the two rear pieces at the waist. I tied the ends into a bow and moved to the front to admire the results.

"It's still not fully tightened," I commented, "but we'll keep working on that in the days to come." The look was fantastic, the shiny rubber, contrasting nicely against her beige, Brazilian skin. I figured I had knocked off about three inches around her waist, providing a much more feminine figure, but still not the hourglass look I was hopping for. The remaining two inches would provide for that.

She turned and looked at herself in the full-length mirror. She gasped and a wry smile came onto her lips, she was loving this.

"I don't remember having this small a waist", she said, "at least not, well, for many, many years." I agreed.

I took out the tape measure and circled her waist with it. "Twenty-six!" I said in mock amazement, knowing that she'd be down to twenty-four by the end of the second week and that a new corset, on order, would allow for a reduction to twenty-two by the end of the month.

I took more measurements. From her waist to cunt, under and through her ass (a little difficult through the underwear's fabric) up to the rear at waist level. While I had the tape, I figured I take all of her measurement: hips, chest, above and below her breasts, leg inseam, ankles, wrists, neck. In fact there wasn't one area that missed the tape measure, logging all of the details in my notebook.

"I'm starving", I said, "how about you?"

"Do I have to keep this on?" she said.

"Well, you might want to start getting used to it. It may make sitting more difficult, but with a little practice, you'll get the hang of it."

"Well Ok, " she responded, unsure. "Frankly, I was very hungry before, but right now I think that a small salad would be about as much as I could eat."

She put a silk housecoat on and an old pair of pink slippers. The slippers would have to go, but later.

While we were preparing dinner, I noticed that her posture had already improved; no more slumping shoulders. She moved around more slowly than usual, having to catch her breadth more often.

I expected her to want to remove the corset bed.

"Honey, can you help untying this thing please, I'd like to take a bath and get some rest," she said.

"No problem, " I replied, "I hope you enjoyed wearing it as much I as enjoyed watching your much slimmer figure." She gave me a dirty look, as if I'd hit a hot button.

I unlaced the corset till it was loose enough for her to unhook it at the front and left to finish up some work before the week ahead.

By the time I returned to the bedroom, she was already under the covers, her eyes closed. 'Another intimate bath', I thought.

An early riser, I was up at six. At a quarter to seven I returned to the bedroom to wake Maria up. She was her usual non-compliant, early morning, gruffy disposition. I told her that Pane would be here at 8, as usual, and that there were things to do before she arrived. I prodded her further to get out of bed.

At about seven thirty, having completed her usual morning rituals, I instructed her to retrieve the corset, but that she should be completely nude, no underwear.

Somewhat reluctantly, she went to the dresser and actually put the corset on, fastening the hooks without any help. She came close to me and turned, so that I could help with the lacing. I went through the same motions, tightening, stopping to let her catch her breath, tightening again until on a few inch gap was left between the corset's eyelets.

Satisfied that it was well adjusted, and tied at the rear, I reached over to the "toy box" and pulled out a three-inch wide leather strap. A simple thing, really, I wound it around Maria's reduced waist, tightening it just enough, and inserted a small lock into the available hasp. The belt was pliable yet sturdy, with an imbedded wire mesh that would make it very difficult to cut. It wasn't coming off anytime soon, and not without the key.

All this time, Maria was totally silent, save for the occasional moan as I was tightening the corset.

I then produced and affixed locking wrist and ankle cuffs, and applied a three-inch wide posture collar. She protested at how the collar was restricting her neck movement, my simple response was to say she'd get use to it. The final touch was a leather blindfold. The doorbell rang. Pane was here.

I told Maria not to go anywhere and that I'd be back in a few minutes.

I let Pane in. She wore street clothes to and from the house, then changed into a simple cotton dress to work around the house. I asked her if she had brought the items requested. She reached into her satchel and pulled out an old looking, short, cotton dress. She told me she'd had it for over ten years and that her sisters had worn it, after she'd grown out of it.

"As you asked, " she said, "the dress has been shared with my sisters and others from the dance club I go to. My friends were really curious as to why I'd want to keep such a dress; the last one complained that it smelled really bad."

"Perfect," I said, "Maria will appreciate how thorough you've been. The rest is as we'd discussed: for the next month, I want you to focus on studying for your exams, while Maria takes care of the house. You're still Ok with all of this, I hope."

"Yes, Sir," she answered, "and thank you again for helping with my studies."

"All right," I said, turning towards to the bedroom, and my newfound house slave. "Remember, from now on, Maria will be referred to only as slave, slut or whore, and she must only address you as Mistress Pane."

"Yes, Sir. I will do my best to do as we discussed, I only hope that I can be as mean as you'd like."

"Don't worry about it, " I said, "you'll do just fine. If there are any doubts, just refer to the instructions I gave you, and remember that she wanted this and that there's a sizeable bonus at the end of the month."

"Thank you, Sir", she said, a smile on her face.

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