Florida Submission

She looked at me, then simply smoothed down my dress from top to bottom and brushed the tear from my eye. "You should have invited whoever this was to visit your website, Slut, you could have added to your quota. Think about that next time."

The party began with a harbor cruise, a cocktail hour where she led me from group to group as they chatted, all elegantly dressed men and women on some sort of museum donor charity event. I sipped a club soda and lime, as Ms. Sabrina introduced me as her newest staff member and got knowing smiles in return.

We were on the edge of group, with more of the same chat, when she turned to me. "Five, the staff needs more help with the service now, give me your dress and get to work." She did not explain more, but stood waiting with a firm look. Conversation around us wound down, with the guests looking at me curious about what this meant. I knew my role, and put down my drink on the table near us. Reaching behind my neck, I pulled the back zipper down and slid the dress to pool at my feet; I was left wearing nothing but my chain belt and the shoes. The unstoppable blush went up my neck and my nipples hardened, and I felt the wetness between my legs. "Wait Five, one more thing." She stepped behind me, and reached into her pocket for a marker. I felt the marker pen across my shoulders on my back, and I realized she was writing out the names of my two paid websites, for the guests to read and hopefully call later. "Now, go get a tray and help with the snacks".

I knew everyone was watching as I crossed to the bar, where the woman bartender handed me a silver tray but took my wrist to stop me from moving away. She splashed some white wine over my breasts, and as it dripped away she dusted my nipples, one with salt and one with sugar. "Hon, as you serve the cocktails, bow a little and ask the guests if they want salt or sugar with the drink, you'll need to explain which tit is which flavor." She and the other servers were laughing as they loaded my tray with drinks, and she slapped my ass as I headed into the crowd.

17.

My new life took a sudden turn a week later, when Ms. Sabrina announced I was going back to work outside. She had found me a job in a bank, like the one I had in my old life up North, and took me shopping for a new wardrobe with everything from designer suits and dresses to expensive LaPerla lingerie. I still lived in the second house, where the others washed and groomed me, but every morning Deb took me to the main house to dress for work in my new clothes, and dropped me at the bank.

I worked a few weeks, and got into this new rhythm of having a professional life again, which I was good at. The contrast was never far from my mind, since I wore my chain belt and tags under my new professional clothes. I looked up one morning at a knock on my office door, and my assistant Kristin walked in. She was young and slim and brunette, and had no idea of my life outside the bank. She was smiling. "These came for you." She handed me a small arrangement of pink orchids in a glass square vase, with a Good Luck! tag and a card with 'Ms. Sabrina' in calligraphy on one corner. She was waiting and smiling, as I flushed and opened the card.

"Keep smiling, slut five, at that young assistant with the nice tits. Now that you are working at the Bank, you will still have special assignments sometimes, which I expect you to do without fail All the photos from your web call site are still archived, they can go out to the whole world anytime, starting with my friend CEO Robert there at the Bank. I have some important real estate deals in progress in town, and your role is simple. When Master Jeff shows up for his appointment with you tomorrow, you will do ANYTHING he asks with no question and no mention of me. Is that clear? Sabrina."

My face was red, as I folded the note. "Kristin, do you have my calendar for tomorrow? I need to plan some meetings outside too."

"I was just going to drop off this agenda; tomorrow looks pretty busy, you have the staff meeting at 8:30, then the bank auditor, Jeffrey Rivers, is here for you at 10, then you have an 11:30 lunch with the guy from Realty Investors, Jeff Soprano, and at 3 you have a new business meeting with Jefferson Monroe, the CEO of Masters Intimates, the clothing makers out on Route A2A. And a dinner at the country club, some kind of fundraiser I think for Congressman Jeffers."

I looked at Kristin, to see if her face showed any hint of planning by Ms Sabrina here, but she was simply waiting for my reply, so I took the paper and waved her away. Somewhere I was sure Ms. Sabrina had a hand in this continuing humiliation.

The next morning, when Deb took me to the main house to get dressed for work, I saw that Ms. Sabrina had laid out my choice for the day, with a note: "Dress up for your important meeting!" I had been groomed and showered by the others already, so I slipped off the t shirt and shorts I was wearing. I put on what she had left for me, in the order I had been taught: sitting naked while I rolled the stockings on, and then the heels, and a glittery silver thong. There was no bra today, just a bronze silk blouse with only two buttons, and a pleated charcoal wool skirt and a lighter gray wool jacket. This was a long way from the fashionable layers of office wear I was used to.

At the bank, I kept the jacket on while I got coffee and sat through the usual staff meeting, where everyone else was much more casual. I ignored their looks, and thought about the day ahead. There was no question, I had no choice but to do exactly as Ms. Sabrina had asked, I could not risk even more exposure and I wanted this new job, not a return to the web chats.

It was after ten when the bank auditor showed up and Kristin brought him into my office. I came out from behind the desk to sit with him at my table, where he spread out his work papers and his notes. He was a very average looking man, sort of a young middle age, a gray person in a gray suit, and I was nervously half listening as he went on and on, until I caught what he was saying.

"... so you see, having the right records is the key here, to avoid problems you will need, um, a full disclosure of all the key assets, we need to have complete transparency and make, a ahh, clean breast of things to try to avoid complications, so..."

Was he Master Jeff? It seemed unlikely, but he had paused at that point, and he was looking at me as he searched for the words to continue. I casually tried to slip off my jacket, and then to sip coffee as I moved my chair to the side. With no bra, my hard nipples poked at the low cut blouse that was barely buttoned, and I found a way to lean and cross my legs so that the pleated skirt rode up and opened. I moved some more, releasing a button, and I knew he could see the flash of the silvery thong under my skirt, and all of my cleavage and the curve of my breasts exposed like a starlet on the red carpet. I sipped coffee and moved to allow him better views, and I watched his face go very red. He was trying to think of what to say, and I realized he was not the Master Jeff I was looking for. I had to pretend nothing was happening until he fumbled his briefcase and left.

My lunch meeting with Jeff Soprano was at the dark steakhouse down the block, which suited his developer style, a younger man with swept back dark hair and a lot of gold jewelry. I slipped my jacket off in the restaurant, in case he was the one, but tried to look interested as he went on and on about all the business deals he won and the great opportunities of this new project. "...but the problem is always getting others to see what you really have, most bankers have no vision at all, they are so, um, buttoned up, they are not truly open to the excitement of new ideas, they need to let their hair down and let their instincts take over, to really get the potential of an opportunity like this one.."

We had chosen a table toward the back, and I was sitting facing him but with my back to the half-empty room. We were finishing the last of the steaks, and the waiter had disappeared. I saw him pause, and look at me with an arched eyebrow. I slipped a clasp out of my hair, to let it fall down to my shoulders, and I looked down at the table and said nothing as I undid the two buttons to let my silk blouse fall open, and moved it to the sides to expose my breasts, and I could feel my nipples hardening. I sipped some red wine, saying nothing, feeling the dampness between my legs. There was a clatter as he put his wine glass down on top of the silver, and it tipped over and collided with his water glass. His wide eyes and his confused stammer of words told me that once again I had assumed too much, and humiliated myself. I was slipping my jacket back on and standing as he tried to clean up and promised to send me a full brochure, while he tried to hide his obvious arousal too.

The third Jeff meeting of the day was out of the office, so I had to take a taxi out to what turned out to be a small factory building in the swampy pine woods along the highway, actually two buildings I saw as the cab stopped. The offices were in a small, gray building with dark glass and metal trim and on the other side of the lot was a metal industrial building and a parking lot full of small cars and pickup trucks. The only car at the office building was a dark, gunmetal gray Italian sedan, parked next to the rattling taxi I was paying. I would need to call another cab to get back to town later.

I took my briefcase into the glass entry, where I was facing a dark glass door with a security box. I pushed the button, gave my name, and heard the buzz and click as the door released. When I stepped in, the reception area was empty and it was very chilly and dry, so I shivered. I was standing, waiting a moment, when the door beyond the reception desk opened and an older man came out. He was much older, certainly past his 60s, and so slim I wondered if he was healthy, with well-cut grayish hair.

"Sorry, the office staff is off at a meeting today, you must be from the Bank? I'm Jefferson Monroe, the founder and CEO here. Come on back to my office, I think you'll find it more comfortable." He turned and left me to follow him through the heavy door and down the carpeted quiet corridor. I made the usual nervous new-business small talk, as we passed photos of company events and group meetings on the corridor walls.

His office was a surprise, after all the gray corporate spaces. It was more like a library, with French doors to a patio surrounded by the Florida pine forest, and no view at all of the factory areas. The leather sofa, wall of books, and dark wood furniture seemed to be from some well used mansion, not an office supply catalog.

"I'm named Jefferson, after my grandfather and a long line of Southern politicians, but I think, Five—you should call me Master Jeff."

I was very nervous now, and I froze at first, with my fears confirmed but knowing I had to do the right things. He took my briefcase and set it aside, then took a step back and crossed his arms to look me over.

"Strip for me now, Five, the jacket and blouse and skirt, but keep the rest."

My face was hot as I unbuttoned the jacket and then the blouse, and unzipped the skirt to step out of it. My nipples were hard in the chilled air, and the too-small silver thong curved under my belly, as I stood in heels and stockings, with my slave chain and tag exposed. I could see birds among the pines outside, as I waited and he examined me.

His hands were confident and matter of fact, as he inspected all of my body, lifting and lightly slapping my breasts, tugging on my hard nipples, fingering the chain and the tag between my legs, cupping the silver thong, tracing my legs, opening my mouth and arranging my hair. I stood and offered myself silently. He pushed my head down, to bend at the waist, and I braced my arms on my knees. His foot pushed my legs wider apart and he studied my exposed ass and unshaved pussy lips. He pushed two fingers into my wet cunt, without comment, and moved them to feel how wet and loose I was now.

"Stay."

He left the room, and I waited like that, bent over, with my breasts hanging, wet and aroused. When he came back in, I saw he had exchanged his business clothes for a rich burgundy paisley robe with an embroidered monogram and a golden silk sash, worn with soft tan leather riding boots. The half-open robe did not hide his short but thick hard cock.

"This robe is part of our new line; we're bringing out a new "Story of O, Chateau d' Roissy" collection of 'passionate fashion for men and their women'. We are thinking that with new interest in '50 Shades' and the like we can time it to do quite well. We'll do some modern takes on the classic "O Dress" and some upscale Master and Slave wear. Ms. Sabrina is one of our investors, and she is quite interested in this. She said she knew just the executive who could help us test the collection, and do the business plan, working in her spare time. Welcome to the project, Five."

He pulled hard on my hair, as he stepped behind me and slapped my ass. He roughly spread my lips and thrust into my cunt, using the other hand to grab a breast hard. He was tall enough to lean over my back as he plowed me, using me roughly with no comment. His thrusting continued until I felt the hot spurts, when he pulled out and swung me around to put his pumping cock to my lips. I was trying to gulp and swallow and lick him, as the cum covered my chin and lips. He gripped my chain belt as I cleaned him, and looking past his hip I saw the pine grove and the blue Florida sky.

18

My life changed again, after meeting Master Jeff. Deb still took me to work at the bank every day, where I did the usual mid-level manager work, but most days at the end of the work day a car was waiting to take me out to the factory offices for evening meetings with investors and designers and managers. The difference was that the car now took me to a side door, where I used my key to enter a small, unused old locker room. The metal lockers were dusty and starting to rust and the tile floor was patched. The small toilet room had an old shower stall and a toilet with no seat and had a strong smell of mildew. One locker had "5" written on it in black marker, which was where I left my fashionable new work clothes every time. I stripped, trying not to get things dirty, and tugged on a small red thong and slipped on very high red heels. I used the cracked mirror to put on red lipstick, with a smear of it on each nipple. My gray metal chain hung around my hips with the tag hanging between my legs.

When I went through the door to the offices, I was in the carpeted corridor of ordinary office space, standard offices and a conference room, with Master Jeff and his senior people having regular business meetings, in which I was included. This was more humiliating and degrading than even the web cam; instead of being on stage alone in a room, or a slave at a party, I was required to do a real job while being the only naked person in the room. It was like the reality of a common bad dream. I would be part of a discussion of marketing or business strategy, in the conference room with flip charts and white board and PowerPoint slides, trying to make my points while naked except for my chain, the thong, and the heels. There was nothing subtle about the looks, as the business people stared frankly at my exposed body and hard nipples, and my breasts swayed and my ass jiggled as I wrote on the board. Anyone in the room was free to come close and touch my body in the most obscene ways, and within a few days all of the men and most of the few women knew what my breasts, belly, thighs, ass, and mound felt like.

Some days it was these business meetings, other days were fittings and trials of the new clothing line. Just as in the books, the O Dress was a long skirted gray satin dress which could be opened easily in many ways. I stood on the fitting platform, as the design team tested it, to expose my body under it. I also modeled the other items, from the metallic female slave outfit to the men's breeches, which I wore while topless as they laughed at my trying to even look male; they stuffed my crotch and laughed harder at my new cock and tits look.

During the breaks for coffee and sandwiches, anyone might decide to use me; with no comment or question someone would be touching or using my mouth or my sex or my ass, since that was obviously my role, then work would continue. I was always the only one naked and wearing the chain, and as the meetings wrapped up I would go alone to the dingy locker for a cold shower and dry myself with rags before being driven back to Ms. Sabrina's.

19

After weeks of this, when I showed up one evening and I saw that along with the red thong to wear, they had left me the plastic mask from my web chat room. I put it on, and walked into what turned out to be a Board of Directors meeting, with 20 men and women I had not seen before. In my mask, I was a plastic-faced doll with a woman's naked body. I saw that Ms. Sabrina was in the midst of a presentation.

"..so as the chart shows, initial shipments of the Roissy line will be $5.7 million starting next month." She smiled at me. "And, let me introduce our new VP of Development, Ms. Fivre, who as you can see is totally committed to the 'passionate apparel' concept." There was no place to sit, except a high stool at the front which left me facing the audience with my legs braced wide, fully exposed.

She changed to new slides, ones I had not seen before. The first slide had images of the Roissy clothing, along with classic erotic images of women in gowns and corsets, stockings and heels, and elegant black leather and latex.

"This is classic erotica, all about upscale fashion and ideas, and clothing with satin and lace and at least pretending to be elegant." Her second slide came with country music, and images of pickup trucks and guys in cowboy hats and women barely dressed in denim and country costumes. "This however is where most of the market is, the same people who work in the factory here and down at the big box stores." Her next slide was rough images from the web, of women as outdoor slaves and pony girls and in training. In one image a frightened looking thin woman was naked on a meadow trail, with her hands secured in a wooden pole across her shoulders, scared of something behind her. "And this is the new taste, for things darker and outdoorsy and not so elegant. So we will start work now on a new line, with Ms. Fivre leading the study, something we are calling for now "Everyday Slut."

I was hidden behind my plastic mask, looking at the business crowd making notes and chatting, while my mind kept going back to the frightened woman, in bare feet on a muddy trail, a long way from the idea of elegant Masters and fashionable slaves in a French mansion.

The work started the next Saturday, when I came into the fitting room in my usual thong and heels. Shirley and Dave, the designers, and Master Jeff were there, looking over a pile of fabric. She spoke up. "Five, take off everything now, we have some new things for you to try." I slipped off my heels and tugged the thong down, to stand naked in front of them wearing only the chain and tag.

Shirley took a critical look, and reached out to touch my trimmed mound. "No more trimming, Five, this new look needs a bushy natural style, sort of a womanly MILF-in-distress look. You need to be overflowing your bikini line now. Here, put these on."

She handed me a sort of soft corset, in camouflage fabric, and a denim thong, with work boots in a woman's size. Putting them on, I looked like the women in the last slides, with my feet in low boots, bare legs, and a corset that rode above my hips and supported my breasts while leaving them almost fully exposed. She handed me the plastic mask. I was an outdoor slut doll now, looking sexy yet ridiculous.