Teacher Is Mistaken Ch. 14

Hollie couldn't speak even when the gag was removed. She was exhausted, unable to think about freedom, or anything else.

Her face revealed her plight. Her mistress gave her a look of recognition, knowing she was now completely helpless.

This girl had been flirting with her master, seeing Hollie as a rival for his affections. Now Angela had the rival out of the way, she could move in on him. What then? Would her master forget about her, not caring what happened to her? Would she be abandoned to a life of a sex slave, forever?

Her master brought out her submissive nature, and taught her to obey. So now she was an obedient slave girl, ready to be dominated. No longer a playful willing slave, she had been captured, and made into an unwilling slave, forced to obey. She was now a real slave girl!

Partly from Angela's domination, and partly from her submissive personality, she was giving in. She knew it, and knew it would be impossible to resist obeying Angela's every whim.

An adolescent girl can be cruel, so she expected to be ill used. How could the girl resist forcing a teacher to be her obedient slave? How could she resist making an adult pay for all the real and imagined slights an adolescent suffers.

Hollie would learn what it was like to be nothing, just an object to be used. She would be an owned slave girl, bullied and humiliated into acting like a sex pet. She felt so low the idea of freedom slipped away. It was buried, ready to be resurrected when the opportunity arose.

Hollie washed her mistress down like an Egyptian handmaiden of ancient times. She could see her mistress enjoyed the attention, as much as the demise of a teacher. As soon as she recovered her energy she would have to escape before she became too embedded in the lowly role.

"In you get, Cindy slave," Angela ordered. She watched her slave get into the bath, with a look of anticipation. "You need to keep the chains clean, Cindy slave. They are filthy with you juices," she admonished the woman.

Hollie split her legs for her mistress to turn the spray over her naked body. The pressure spray followed the chains down from her neck, over her nipples. The spray hit between the legs, and Hollie involuntarily raised her hips. The hard spray of hot water was played over her sex, bringing an instant arousal.

It was a complete surprise to find she was experiencing an orgasm! Now she knew why her mistress was washing her. "Damn!" She cried out in anguish.

She soon realised what was happening. Her sex had been sensitised to respond to the slightest stimulation. She couldn't hold back, as she pushed her sex up at the spray, revelling in the feeling of hot water playing upon her engorged bud and lips.

"Did your mistress allow you a nice orgasm, Cindy slave?" Angela sweetly asked.

"Yes mistress, thank you mistress," Hollie panted. Being called Cindy was nothing compared to what the girl had done to her. She was effectively becoming her little slave pet, so there was no need to send her away for the threatened training.

"Come on Cindy slave, time to serve your mistress breakfast," Angela commanded.

The prospect ahead of her was dreadful. Spending her whole life in servitude, as nothing more than a sex slave, became a terrifying and humiliating reality. Despite herself she couldn't help becoming aroused. Her pussy was oozing, while contemplating the humiliation of serving a master or mistress as a humble sex slave.

Hollie served breakfast to her mistress, and the master of the house. She was in too much of state to hear what they were saying. She was busy trying to bring herself under control, as well as serve them both. The master took little notice of her, despite being naked.

She still wore the chains, and wondered if she could find the keys in the master's study. If they were locked in a safe there would be little chance to be rid of them. She had become used to them. She hardly heard the soft jingle on links, though on occasions he felt them pull on her lips, if she wasn't careful when bending and stretching.

Back in the kitchen Angela's mother was complaining about not having a kitchen slave, as Hollie hadn't been trusted to cook anything. They still thought she was just a young submissive friend of Rogers. It was obvious she wasn't an experienced or trained slave.

"Don't worry mother. Father is going away on business for a few days and will bring one back. You won't have to do anything then," Angela informed her.

"He didn't tell me he was going away!" Bridget complained.

"He did yesterday. You weren't listening as usual. You have become an unruly slave recently and need to re-learn your place," Angela smiled.

"Did your father say that?" Bridget asked, looking surprised.

"No, he didn't. If he knew what you had been up to with a waiter yesterday, he would have, and more," Angela sweetly smiled. Bridget's face fell and she quickly turned away.

Trying to change the subject she quickly asked. "So who is this slave he's bringing back."

"The woman is about thirty, and has been into the scene for some while. Apparently she's a socialite, but enjoys the role of household slave. She's well trained, and will be very willing. He's taking her on as a favour to a friend. That's all I know," Angela informed her mother.

It reassured Bridget, for the last thing she wanted was for a rival to enter her home. That it was a favour to someone sounded right, as the state of their finances meant they couldn't afford to purchase an expensive slave.

"Considering a new slave will be joining the household, father decided I should practice the duties as mistress of the house, while he's away," Angela added.

"You have this slave to look after, isn't that enough?" Bridget asked, sounding irritated.

"Cindy is my personal slave, and I'm ready for a more demanding role," Angela quietly said.

Hollie winced at the mention of her slave name. She knew Angela was using it to put her in her place. It was having an effect on her, and not a good one. The persona of Cindy the little slave girl, was becoming harder to shake off. She dare not reveal to these people she was a teacher, or even that she was an adult woman, so they too treated her like a foolish young girl.

"If your father makes that an order, it will have to be carried out," Bridget angrily retorted. She strode out of the kitchen.

"She's off to see father," Angela said, with a sound of amusement lighting her voice.

Hollie knew something important was going on between the two of them. Something was rattling Bridget's usual calm manner. She had little time to think about it much, as she spent the morning on domestic chores. She passed the master bedroom at one point, taking the opportunity to explore the house, looking for escape routes.

A glimpse of Bridget packing was enough to show the woman was angry. The master of the house was in his study while Bridget was up here cursing under her breath. Hollie tiptoed passed, careful not to disturb the woman. She considered this would be a good opportunity. Allying herself with Bridget against her daughter, might help her escape, or at the very least save her from further ill treatment.

The master of the house had left and Hollie was sent to find Bridget. "Hi, are you alright?" Hollie asked.

"No! I am not alright," Bridget answered tersely. "Well?" she asked.

"Your daughter, err, Angela, I mean my mistress," Hollie hesitated, finding it difficult to cope with the situation.

"Sorry, I shouldn't take it out on you. I've been into this scene for long enough to know how it works. It's just a bit testing while my daughter learns the ropes. You adolescents are such sensitive creatures while you learn how to become adults. Well? What does she want now?" Bridget prompted.

Hollie felt like telling her she understood, as she had been through all that turmoil, though not experiencing it as a parent, on the sharp end. It seemed such a long time ago since she had gone through adolescents.

"She wants us in the kitchen," Hollie politely answered.

"There's no need to be so formal and polite to me, young lady. I'm just a humble slave in this house. Just wait till her father gets back, and I'll give them both a hard time. Alright, I'll come with you, don't want her taking it out on you," Bridget weakly smiled.

Hollie followed the woman trying to keep up with her long strides. The woman attended diplomatic functions, representing their country, yet at home she played at being a slave. From what she had gathered the woman had been a slave even before she married. She shook her head wondering about this new world opening up to her.

Angela was waiting for them, with a pleased look on her face.

"Father has left, so now I'm the mistress in charge of you two slaves," Angela stated.

Hollie had worked this much out. She was wondering if the mother had made some arrangements with her husband. She hoped it wouldn't upset Angela, or the fury would be unleashed upon her.

Bridget stated to say something, but Angela cut in. "You have your secrets you want kept from your master, so I suggest you behave yourself, slave," Angela said, emphasising the word, 'slave'.

Hollie heard a harrumph of disapproval, though the mother kept quiet.

"What do you say, slaves?" Angela lightly asked.

"Yes, mistress," both women chorused.

Hollie kept her head bowed. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Bridget bow her head too. She didn't look cowed, instead the woman looked angry, and resigned. Hollie was reassured, as this looked like an opportunity to gain an ally against a common enemy.

"I've decided to hold a dinner party for a few friends," Angela announced.

"How many?" Bridget asked, sounding agitated. "I need to know, so as to prepare," she added, trying to sound less antagonistic.

"Nothing sophisticated, just a few snacks in my rooms for five," Angela imperiously informed her.

"Very well, mistress," Bridget conceded.

She hoped her daughter would grow tired of lording it over her. It was demeaning, and she hated the situation. Having her husband as lord and master was one thing, but her daughter didn't have the experience, or the right attitude. The young girl, Cindy got a kick out of being humiliated, but she hated it. She enjoyed having a strong thoughtful master, who would indulge her, yet demand obedience.

"I'll need both slaves to serve my guests, so you had better start preparations," Angela announced.

"What! You can't reveal your mother, as a slave!" Bridget exclaimed in surprise.

"You are right of course. All that is in hand, I have an outfit with a mask for you," Angela said. It revealed she had planned this humiliation. It was a part of the promise to put her mother in her place.

Bridget looked as though she was going to fight, though the moment passed.

"Thanks, Mistress," she grudgingly replied, attempting an offhand attitude. Despite the attempt it was obvious how angry she was. Anger was eating at her, from being treated so disrespectfully in her own home, by her daughter. Her husband's position demanded they keep family secrets, especially this one.

Everything was prepared and laid out in Angela's suite of rooms. Both slaves were standing by to serve the guests. Angela was inspecting her slaves. "Hold your hands out," Angela demanded, while inspecting their nails.

"Your nails are filthy, slave Hooters," Angela said, looking closely at her mother.

Bridget bridled at the temporary slave name she had been given. She did have large breasts but sophisticated older woman being referred to by them was demeaning. She took a deep breath. It was a good thing wearing a mask, so obscenities could be muttered, without upsetting her so called mistress.

Hollie wore a little skirt and a blouse tied under her breasts. Without underwear it made the outfit look even sluttier. Her hair was done in bunches in an attempt to make her look young and cute, except the chains were on display. She hung her head in shame, as well as in deference to her mistress.

Angela's mother was wearing an all in one leather cat-suit, with a hood. Her eyes shone darkly from the eye slits. Her full luscious lips, painted a glossy red, were protruding from another slit. She was adept at striking a submissive pose, which was evident, despite the smouldering anger.

The skin-tight leather exaggerated a curvaceous body. It pulled in and clung to a slim waist. The breasts were held high and pushed out provocatively, with peep holes for both nipples. It dug deeply between the cheeks and lips, with inserts of red leather emphasising her sex. Everywhere else it clung to her like a second skin. She looked devastatingly sexy.

Hollie stole a glance, realising she too had been dressed like this, in a sex shop, by her master. The memory stirred feelings for him, knowing he hadn't expected her to be so cruelly used. He thought she was safely being looked after, while he was away.

The young boisterous guests walked in, suddenly quiet on seeing the two women.

"How do you like my servants? They are Cindy and Hooters. They owe money to a casino. The casino owner owes my father a favour, so he sent them over. He thinks my father asked for them, so don't tell anyone. If he finds out I'll be grounded for months," Angela lied.

Hollie could feel Bridget relax a little. She too was relieved to hear an excuse for their presence being made up. It sounded thin, but the youngsters hardly bothered to listen. They were too busy studying the way the two women were dressed.

"Cool!" John said, while ogling both women at once. His eyes swivelled from Hollie to Bridget, trying to decide which he liked the look of the most. Hooters was aptly named he thought.

"They're sluts," Sylvia disdainfully stated.

"Yes, maybe, but they belong to me for the day. I get to order them around, it's great," Angela laughed.

"So what do they do?" Mark asked.

Hollie cringed on hearing his voice. She didn't need to look up, to know it was one of her students. The damn girl had invited him just to humiliate her. He wouldn't recognise her like this, away from the classroom.

"They don't need to do anything at all," Vernon said, with a big smile on his face.

"That's not much use then," Libby added to the conversation.

"They are here to serve us. So make the most of them, they have to go back tomorrow morning," Angela grinned.

Hollie noticed Bridget stiffen. Her daughter couldn't go too far, as she was Nathanial's slave, not hers. What was she thinking? The little shit was her daughter.

Angela was supposed to be looking after both of them, and this certainly wasn't what was expected of a mistress. Angela was getting back at her mother for something, and keeping her quiet with a threat. Hollie had caught something about a waiter, but nothing more.

"Sit down everyone. Take the order for drinks, slave Hooters and Cindy," Angela commanded. She was enjoying showing off her new authority. She particularly liked the way her mother stiffened when using the new slave name. In that outfit Hooters was especially apt.

"Where is your father," John asked, looking nervous and guilty.

"He's away for a few days. Don't worry no one will get into trouble. These slaves won't let on about anything, as they don't want it known they owe money in a casino. Everyone got a drink? To us and college!" Angela said, raising her glass, and her voice.

"To us and college," everyone chanted.

Hollie and Bridget served more drinks then offered snacks on a tray. The guys got a good look at Hollies cleavage and a close up of Bridget's nipples. They made lewd remarks over how tight the leather was around Bridget's crotch. Hollie took note, and was very careful how she bent over.

Bridget felt like swiping the two guys behaving like naughty schoolboys. Their parents were known to her, though none were into this scene. That's probably why her daughter invited them. It was all the more infuriating to serve youngsters she knew, like a lowly maid.

Only last week they had all been at Vernon's parents home, served at a sophisticated party by flunkies. She had been dressed in a ball gown then, not a tight leather cat-suit, lewdly showing of her body.

The two girls were miffed, and disdainful of the two slave girls. After a couple of cocktails they disappeared to a restroom. They bitched over the two sluts, which Angela called her slaves. They were obviously hired whores from town, brought in to impress the guys. The guys obvious leering and physical interest pissed them off.

When they returned Angela judged the moment right to gain some attention. She let a drink spill as Hollie served her; careful not to let it mark her expensive dress.

"Clumsy girl, look what you've done. Get a cloth. Quickly!" Angela sharply scolded Cindy. She would have preferred it to be her mother but Hollie had been there at the right time.

"Sorry mistress," Hollie automatically responded. She scurried back to wipe up the damp patch on the chair. On hands and knees she was embarrassed to hear the awful remarks the guys were making.

"She's got a cute ass, I can't even see the thong she's wearing," John sniggered.

"The slut isn't wearing one," Libby scathingly pointed out.

"You deserve a punishment, Cindy slave," Angela briskly stated. She wanted to laugh from having so much fun, but kept a stern face, trying to fit the contrived scene.

"Please, mistress," Hollie implored her torturer.

"Over my knee, now, Cindy," Angela demanded.

"Ouch!" Hollie yelped, from a stinging slap. She realised Angela wanted to make a show of it, and played along, so as not to be hurt if she riled her mistress. It was humiliating being spanked before one of her students, but at least he hadn't recognised her.

After six stinging whacks her cheeks were red. When she stood up they could all see how red her face was too. Looking down she saw her blouse had come undone so quickly reached to pull it together.

"Leave it, Cindy slave," Angela harshly warned.

Hollie stood before the adolescents, looking down at her swollen nipples. They had seen her bare bottom being spanked, and felt this added disgrace all the more painfully.

"She has nice tits," Mark commented, trying to sound casual.

Hollie felt horrible hearing one of her students make such a rude comment about her body.

"Remove the top and show them off, Cindy," Angela ordered.

"Yes, mistress," Hollie responded.

"So where do the chains from her nipples go?" Mark asked.

"Show him Cindy," Angela said.

Hollie looked at her mistress, trying for sympathy, but the aggressive look had her quickly obeying. She dropped the skirt to the floor. Her lips were swollen and dewy with moisture, showing off the piercings and chain connecting them. She stood among the young students, with her eyes closed tight, as though in pain.

"The slut is soaking wet," Libby scornfully pointed out the obvious.

"Cindy enjoys pain and humiliation," Angela revealed.

Hollie desperately needed to run and hide, though the discipline training from Roger, kept her standing naked before them. She swayed as though in a gentle breeze, looking as though she might faint.

"She's a hot slut," John said, with a broad grin on his face. He preferred the bigger tits on Bridget.

Bridget was relieved they were all slobbering over Cindy, and left her alone. As she was tall her daughter thought it better to wear flat shoes, which was the only sensible part of her outfit. They were necessary, as it was difficult to walk with ankle cuffs hobbling her.

She sharply looked across at her daughter on feeling fingers walking up her inner thigh. A mistress should have made the rules of engagement clear to her guests. Angela should have told them not to touch, and watched out for her. She wanted to shout at her daughter that Francis son was touching her up.