Content Warnings: BDSM Fantasy, non-consensual, extremely dubious consent, M/f, Maledom, M/fff, slave harem, bondage slavery, bondage, sexual slavery, fetish clothing, oral sex, vaginal sex, Bellemisère Academy

Bellemisère Academy belongs to Cotinusa

“I think my husband owned people too.” 

My third sex slave’s soft, lilting voice pulled me out of the pleasant fog that had settled over my mind. I shifted in place on my bed and let myself moan. She was in the process of massaging my feet, having finished up with my shoulders a little while ago. 

“Is that right?” I replied. Maybe that was a mistake. More than one person has told me that I’m too nice to my toys, and letting one of them speak unprompted like that was the kind of thing they were talking about. But I didn’t say anything else. It didn’t bother me when Number Three talked about her life before I bought her. Probably because she wasn’t as whiny about it as Number One. 

“Yes sir.” Originally from Dubai, Number Three had a slight British flavor to her accent. “He always kept me away from his private rooms. I knew he had men brought to him, and that he liked to tie them up, but I realized recently that I never saw any of them leave. I think he offered to buy a man for me once, but I didn’t understand what he was talking about.” 

The idea that one of my sex slaves could have owned a sex slave of her own brought a smile to my face. “And here you are now.” 

I opened my eyes in time to see her nod, her expression totally benign. “It was one of his associates that tricked me and sent me to the Academy after he died. I… I think he used to buy men from her.” 

I glanced over to my bedside clock and saw it was 9:17 in the morning. The warm light of a sunny summer Saturday filled my bedroom. I looked back to Slave Number Three just as she switched from one foot to the other. 

Her heart-shaped face was scrunched up in concentration as she worked her Bellemisère Academy-trained magic fingers on the muscles of my feet. Three was a real beauty. Her soft features, her generous figure, every single inch of her frame… In another life she could have been a world famous model. I think I might have been the very first Academy client to see her profile in the catalog, or at least one of the first. There was no doubt in my mind that she would have been snatched up fast if I hadn’t bought her.

Don’t get me wrong, all my girls were gorgeous. My immediate interest switched back and forth between the three of them all the time. It was rare for just one of my toys to hold all of my attention for an entire day. I can, have, and will in the future spend just as much time appreciating Numbers One or Two every bit as much as I was enjoying Three that morning. But at that moment there was something about the way the morning sunlight shone on Three’s olive skin, giving it a lovely sheen that almost matched the golden collar around her throat, that had my full attention. 

Her long black hair was mussed up by spending the night in bed with me, but still sleek and silky. She had it pulled down over one shoulder, but had been careful not to obstruct my view of her bare breasts. My gaze traveled downward so I could fully appreciate the sloping hips of her natural hourglass figure. 

Making it all a million times better was the knowledge of everything I could do with this gorgeous thing. With a single word or gesture, this beautiful woman that was my property would abandon her work on my feet to lean down and take me in her mouth. The sight of a head I owned hard at work between my legs never got old. 

Just thinking about it woke my cock right up. I saw her glance at it, clearly expecting me to give the order. But… I held off. I wasn’t quite in the mood for that. At least not yet. 

I suddenly heard the sound of high heels tapping their way towards the bedroom, steadily raising in volume with each step, until they stopped and there was a knock at the door. 

“Come in!” 

Number Two stepped into the room with a slight, perky little smile. I didn’t miss the way the blonde woman arched her back to push her tits out for my viewing pleasure. It was only to be expected from an Academy-trained slave, but Two was always especially enthusiastic compared to the others. She was a good girl, and had been feeling neglected since One and Three came home at the end of the Bellemisère semester a few weeks earlier. 

Well, that was too bad for her. She needed to get used to not being my only toy now that One had graduated from her two year program. I had every intention of keeping at least two of my girls at home with me at all times. 

The short, curvaceous, and delightfully well-endowed Number was wearing a pair of white leather pants that were of the ‘so tight they looked painted on her legs’ variety. She would definitely be showing off her ass when she turned around. On her feet were a pair of classic white pleaser heels, the platforms giving her a bit more height than most of the shoes I bought for her. Above her waist she wore a backless cross lace blue crop top that functionally covered only the front half of her torso. The fact that it could contain her impressive bust was downright miraculous. Two’s chest was a little smaller than Three’s, but her considerably shorter stature made it look bigger. 

“Good morning Master Neil,” she spoke in her own Belarusian accent. “Your breakfast is ready.” 

Oh right. I had groggily ordered Two to prepare breakfast for me not too long ago, hadn’t I? I must have fallen back asleep. 

I maneuvered myself to the edge of the bed, ending the foot massage a little early. Just as well, Three was pretty much done anyway. She moved to grab my robe while I pulled my silk pajama pants on, then slipped it onto my shoulders without my needing to order it. I felt her breasts press up to my back a split second before her chin came to rest on one shoulder, accompanied by a quiet little moan and her warm breath on my ear.

Three was a good girl too. 

“Would you like company as you eat this morning, Master?” Three’s hands were on my chest as she pulled herself a little more tightly against me. I could see a sour storm of a look briefly cross Two’s face.

“Not today, Number Three. I want you getting dressed and ready for the day while I eat,” I told Number Three. Her own meal would be one of the breakfast bars I kept stocked in the slaves’ room. “Then wait for me in the living room. I’m not done playing with you this morning.” 

“Yes Sir.” I could hear the false pout in Three’s tone as she reluctantly withdrew her body from mine so she could kneel on the bed and bow her head. “What would you would like to see me wear today?” 

“Surprise me,” I shrugged. She went a little stiff in dismay. It was barely noticeable, and over in less than an instant. But I’d spent more than enough time with my most recently purchased slave to see it. Three had a lazy streak, a natural consequence of spending over twenty years living a life of comfort and wealth before that friend of her dead husband sent her to Bellesmère. The Arabian woman was perfectly obedient, but more will than a sex slave should be. If any one of my slaves can be called spoiled, even in light of how permissive I could be, it was Number Three. I’d be sure to mention that to her teachers in the fall when she went back to the Academy for her second year.

“Yes Sir,” Three repeated while I followed Number Two out of the room. My attention had already moved on to the blonde’s swaying ass and the lovely shape of her almost completely bare back. It was easy to get lost in the delicious sight before me, and I saw no reason to try not to be. I bought her so I could enjoy her, after all. Before I knew it I found myself seated at the dining table while Two set my meal in front of me.

A few minutes after I delivered that first strip of crispy bacon into my mouth, I spied Number One going about her daily cleaning duties in the living room and called her over. 

Unlike Two’s outfit, which was skimpy as hell but could still be worn out in public, One had put on something far more fetishistic for the day. It was called a reverse bunny suit. I’d only heard about them a few months ago, and almost immediately bought one for all three of my toys. A normal bunny girl outfit was basically just a teddy with leg-wear; and of course the ears, bunny tail, and all the other extra pieces that helped make it so much fun. The reverse bunny girl suit consisted of a sleeved bolero top that covered only the shoulders and arms, a pair of very tall hip-high boots, and came with all the same extra bits as the classic outfit. It essentially covered everything the classic bunny look did not, while showing off everything it hid.

In other words, Number One’s naked tits, pussy, and ass were exposed for all to see.

The bolero and the boots were made of shiny red leather. The top’s collar, the cuffs at the end of its’ sleeves, and the heels and platforms at the bottom of the boots were all black, as were the bowtie and the ears. The panties, bra, and puffball tail that came with the getup were all in black to, but I told One to leave those behind when I informed her what she would be wearing today. Now that morning had come and I was able to see her dressed up with my own eyes it was hard to tell if I had more fun looking all that sexy leather sheathing her limbs more or less than I enjoyed the sight of her excellently toned naked parts.

One had been wearing super sexy outfits like this for me all week long, since last Saturday when I decided that she was falling back on sexy librarian outfits too often. You know what I mean. Sweaters, skits, tights, the reading glasses I chose for her as reward for graduating with high grades. Normally I was more than happy to see her dressed up in that style. One always looked great in that kind of outfit, and the effect was enhanced by the fact that she actually was a librarian before I paid the Academy to abduct her for me. But it was always obvious that as much as I enjoyed them, she chose those outfits as a way of covering up her body as much as she could get away with. So when my patience ran out last week I ordered her to wear fetish costumes instead, until I said otherwise. Since then she’d been a nurse, a nun, a more classic bunny girl, and so on.

Hot damn was that reverse bunny suit amazing to look at. I probably would have set aside my breakfast to bend her over the table or have her sit on my lap so I could feel her up as I ate if I hadn’t gotten so used to seeing her in so many sexy costumes over the week. But as things stood, a full seven days of outfits like that meant I was still anticipating spending the rest of the morning with Three.

One’s face was schooled into a pleasantly blank expression as she stepped into the dining area looking hot as hell. She showed no hint of distress at wearing that incredibly sexy outfit that showed off what used to be her most private areas for her owner’s viewing pleasure. She’d come a long way from swearing at me and looking nervous all the time. That was the end result of a Bellemisère education.

“Good morning, Sir. Is there something you need?” 

I took a sip of orange juice. “I want you to help Three get ready for me, in whatever way you think is best. I’ll be playing with her all morning.” 

I didn’t pay One much mind as she nodded and scurried off to obey me, though I did savor the sound of her footsteps fading away in the direction of the slaves’ room. And even when she reached that carpeted floor and the sound disappeared, I could hear Two at work in the kitchen cleaning up after herself and getting my second helping ready for me. I always get a charge out of listening to my property, the gorgeous women I owned and had at my beck and call, obeying me.

There was no reason to rush through breakfast, so I took the time to enjoy each and every piece of food Number Two had prepared for me. Scrambled eggs, hash browns, some pancakes, a few pieces of cantaloupe, and so on. Most of the first helping was already gone when I sent One off to help Three, but Number Two was ready with a second serving as soon as I called for more.

It was a perfect start to a Saturday that I only expected to get better from there.

Once I was done eating I left the table for Two to clean and made my way to the living room. Three wasn’t there waiting for me yet, which wasn’t surprising. ‘Getting ready’ included doing some makeup and hair care before getting dressed. And maybe I finished breakfast a little sooner than I thought I would. It was hard to say. So I turned on the TV and picked up a tablet to pass the time until Three arrived.

It wasn’t too much of a wait. I was most of the way through an episode of an old sitcom I liked when I heard two sets of footsteps approaching from the hallway and turned to see Three and One enter.

Three was now dressed in a hot pink leather minidress. I most often had her wearing shades of purple, but pinks suited her almost as well. Her shoulders were bare and the skirt hem was an inch or so too short to make it halfway down her thighs. A built-in corset did wonderful things to enhance her natural figure. Really, the whole thing wasn’t much more than a corset that was extended far enough up and down to double as a dress. On her legs were black fishnet stockings and heels in the same vibrant shade of pink as the leather dress. Her long, freshly brushed hair cascaded down her back.

And on top of that sexy ensemble was Number One’s contribution: Rope. I could see two lengths of black rope coiled around Three’s midsection. One length was just above her hips, the other right beneath her breasts. That meant both her wrists and her elbows were tied together and then further lashed to her torso. Sure enough, Three gave me a neat twirl as she stepped into the room to show off the rest of the rope binding her wrists and elbows tightly together in uniform rows.

I’d enrolled One up for rope-tying and shibari classes for her Academy curriculum. Those classes had paid off, and now one of her most important duties in my home was to tie up my other slaves when I wanted to see them in classic rope bondage instead of metal or leather gear. Her ropework was excellent. Neat, visually appealing, and taut enough that it only came loose enough to maybe slip out of with a lot of hard struggling. Three would be getting the same lessons when she went back to school in the Fall.

Finally, there was a strip of black cloth tied flat over the lower half of Number Three’s face. Everything beneath the nose. I could make out the outline of a cleave gag beneath it. There was no real need for a gag, my apartment was both soundproofed and located in a building that had never let one of its’ residents unwilling property escape. No, just like everything else about my living property, that gag was there for me to enjoy.

One came to a stop at the door behind Three as they entered the room. She was shorter than Three, who stood a little taller than I did when wearing high heels.

As hot as One looked in the red leather of her reverse bunny outfit, at that moment I only had eyes for Three. Can you blame me? The bunny suit was sexy as hell, but that twirl Three did when she walked in the room wasn’t the end of her performance. She showed off her long, fishnet-clad legs with wide, deliberately made steps that thundered every time her shoes made contact with the floor. Her hips, made all the more pronounced by that corset-like leather dress swayed back and forth as she took a meandering path from the door to the couch.

Number Three didn’t seek out my attention like Two did. But when she had it, she threw everything she had into making sure I liked what I saw. I wasn’t exaggerating earlier when I said she could have been a world famous model in another life. While Two and One both knew how to perform, presentation and deportment were standard Bellemisère classes, Three was an absolute natural.

I waved One off to go back to her cleaning before patting the empty space beside me on the couch. Number Three barely had enough time to sit before I was on her, pulling her against me and running my hands up and down that sexy leather dress and the fishnets she wore beneath it. She responded with excited giggles and shrieks, followed by soft little moans as she pressed herself up against my side and nuzzled her head into the crook of my shoulder.

She really was a good girl.

Before you go rolling your eyes at how gullible I am, know that I’m not one of those owners who are stupid or delusional enough to think the women I held captive in my home actually wanted to be there. I’ve met people like that, some of them were even my neighbors, and it’s always best to avoid them. But Number Three was a lot like Number Two in that both were firmly of the opinion that I was as good of an owner as they were ever likely to get. I didn’t push them too hard, I wasn’t nearly as sadistic as many of my people-owning peers, and I even let them have some free time when they weren’t busy and I didn’t need them. The worst I ever did to my slaves was let my aunt borrow them from time to time.

No one has ever accused Aunt Morgan of spoiling her sex slaves.

I’m also not asking you to trust in my impeccable ability to read people when I tell you how my slaves feel about me. I know what they think of me because I listen in on them from time to time. Not often. There are only so many hours of the day and I don’t want to accidentally let slip to any of them that I eavesdrop sometimes. The point is, I’ve heard them talk about me when they don’t know I can hear them. So when I tell you how the members of my little harem feel about their Master, know that I’m usually repeating things I’ve literally heard them say to each other.

Besides, Two and Three had led more eventful lives as free women than One had. They were both far less likely to make escape attempts than my first slave simply because, unlike One, they had nowhere to escape to. Being good sex slaves for their owner, me, was the best option available to either of them.

All this was to say that Three was more than eager to please me as I toyed with her there on the couch. I groped her, pinched her, stroked her hair, and even planted the occasional kiss or bite on patches of her bare skin while the TV ran in the background. She was very responsive throughout it all, moaning and giggling beneath the layers of her gag the whole time. When the next episode ended I pulled her onto my lap and devoted more attention to her hips and legs. I wasn’t the least bit surprised to find that she had skipped putting on a pair of panties beneath the minidress. The gag-muffled noises she made rose in volume when stuck a couple of fingers in there for a minute or two.

I hit my limit for delaying my gratification when that episode ended, and put Three on her back so I could crawl on top and put myself inside of her. She responded in kind, moving herself in rhythm with my thrusting and doing everything she could to enhance the experience for her Master. Rubbing her fishnets against my bare skin, pressing her leather-covered chest up to mine, and making all the right noises.

“Good girl,” I whispered at almost the exact moment I climaxed. Even beneath the gag, I could see a wide smile spread ear to ear across her face.

Two showed up not long after I was done with that first round, ostensibly to ask if I needed a snack or anything to drink. I rolled my eyes, but decided to indulge her need for attention for a little while by ordering her to join us on the couch so I could enjoy having two of my sex slaves on either side of me while I watched yet another episode. One was bound and gagged, the other free to caress me just the way I liked it.

My cock was ready for another round within ten minutes, but I gave it another fifteen or so before I was ready to start back up.

First, I had Two take the gag out of Three’s mouth. Once it was out and Three was working the stiffness out of her now free jaw, I ordered the blonde to gag herself with it instead. Two was more than a little surprised by the order.

“What?” She asked, momentarily forgetting her place. Even the best trained slaves couldn’t manage unthinking obedience all the time.

I chuckled. “You think I can’t see what you’ve been doing all week, Number Two? Begging and whining for attention? It’s usually pretty cute, but I don’t need to hear it all day today. So you get to go gagged for a while to remind you to keep quiet.”

“I—but…” Seeing Two flustered was a rare sight. She had been with me for a year and a half at this point, and was normally very good at reading me. Today had been a rare miscalculation on her part. But she knew the score, and it didn’t take her long to accept what was happening. “… Yes, Master.”

“And you,” I turned to Three and gestured at my erect cock. She nodded and hurried down to her knees to obey. Meanwhile, Two decided to make the most out of her situation by putting on a little show of gagging herself for me—putting in the sodden and mouth-filling wad of cloth, tying the cleave gag tight enough to dig into her cheeks, and pulling the final cloth taut over her face—while Three’s mouth enveloped my cock and she began her work.

It was a good effort on Two’s part, but the lion’s share of my interest remained firmly on the woman whose head was between my legs. Number Three was my favorite for the day, or at least the morning, so I sent Two back to her chores just as she finished gagging herself. I was moaning soon after that, long and loud, as Three blew me. She did an excellent job pacing herself, drawing out the process or speeding up as needed. Her head of silky hair bobbed up and down on my shaft for what felt like hours, but was probably closer to ten minutes. Maybe fifteen, since it was so soon after my last climax.

When she was done, and I had ridden out the pleasure of her efforts, she stayed kneeling at my feet. I reached out to give her head a pat. “Good girl, Three. Great job.”

She blushed and lowered her head. “Thank you, Sir.”

Leaning back into the couch, I let out a contented sigh. After a minute or so spent basking in the moment, eyes closed, I heard Number Three speak unprompted for the second time that morning.

“I think I’m better at being a concubine than I was at being a wife.”

I snorted, amused. She used that word from time to time. Concubine. I always thought it was too much of a mouthful to be sexy, but I liked the way she said it in that lovely hybrid accent of hers. She gave it a musical quality that was hard not to appreciate.

“Is that so?” I kept my eyes closed. I didn’t miss the way she said she was ‘better’ at being at being a concubine than a wife. Not that she actually enjoyed it more. She was flattering me, and doing a decent job of it.

“Oh yes, Sir.” she said. I could hear the gentle smile in her voice. “My husband was nice enough. We were friends. But it wasn’t really him that I mourned when he died. And the man I was going to be married to next…”

“Yeah, yeah,” I cut her off. I didn’t mind it when Three talked about her past from time to time, but I didn’t need to know every detail of her life story. The most important part was that she ended up as my property. Everything else was just details.

“Find One or Two and have them help you drink a glass of water,” I ordered. “Then go and wait for me in the playroom. I’m not done with you for the day.”

Another bowing nod, another polite ‘Yes Sir,’ and yet another chance to watch one of my slaves sway her hips for me as she left the room to obey my commands.

I checked the clock. Saturday morning was almost over, but I was just getting started.

You can read more about Neil Caldwell-Voss and the Academy students he owns here.