Before Mistress Madelon headed home, as she was getting into her car, she noticed—as always—that she was being spied on by her nosy neighbor; Diana had complained about this too.
On Michaela’s advice, cameras had been installed that captured him in the act of spying, showing him alongside the person he was watching. She could review the footage on her phone and laptop; Diana had already compiled a collection of images that were compromising for him.
When she arrived home, the rest of the household was already there. Peter closed the front door behind her and immediately knelt before his Mistress; at her command, he kissed her boots, and he was required to follow her around on his hands and knees.
Madelon took her seat, had Peter kneel before her, and made him report on his day and the tasks he had performed at home. After pouring her a drink, Peter returned to work in the kitchen; in a few hours, they would be having dinner—or rather, the two Mistresses would; Peter and Paul would have to make do with the leftovers in the kitchen afterward.
After her martini, she went upstairs to wash and change. At the top of the stairs, she heard soft sounds coming from Diana’s room; by the sound of it, Diana was enjoying herself—likely with her brother, Paul. She wished Diana a good afternoon and called through the door that Paul needed to be in the kitchen at five o’clock.
“Will do,” the young Mistress replied. Diana was doing her homework at her desk, sitting in a peculiar chair; it featured a hole in the seat and various restraints to secure a slave so he could serve his Mistress. The chair was enclosed on three sides, leaving only an opening where a slave could lie, and Paul—her stepbrother—was currently positioned there as a slave, tasked with licking her slit from beneath her pleated skirt; she urged him to do his best, using the stiletto heels of her short suede boots to spur him on.
The chair was a gift—or a hand-me-down—from Michaela; like her stepmother, Diana was deeply impressed by Michaela, though for Diana, the connection ran much deeper than it did for Madelon. Diana was a quick learner and talked a great deal with Michaela; in fact, she was far more open and uninhibited in her conversations with others than Madelon, who was much more reserved.
At first, she copied Michaela’s style and borrowed heavily from her wardrobe; later, she developed a style of her own, though it still bore a resemblance to Michaela’s—favoring pleated skirts, both short and long, including leather ones. She earned a good income but spent virtually everything on her career as a Mistress, which meant significant expenditure on makeup, clothing, and shoes.
There were many items she didn’t yet dare to buy in public, so she ordered things like wigs, lingerie, and BDSM gear online. Paul had been forced to clear out his wardrobe to make room for her clothes; his own garments hung on a rack in the attic—sharing space with his father’s—and, like his father, Paul slept on a cot in the attic room.
Paul’s former room had effectively become Diana’s walk-in closet; her desk and that special chair were kept there, too. Diana was studying in between orgasms; while studying didn’t distract her from climaxing, the climaxes did distract her from her studies—though since she was off work the next day, it didn’t matter.
She made use of her brother for another half-hour before heading to the shower; recently, her brother had been required to assist her with this routine. Paul would wash his Mistress and dry her off, help her get dressed, quickly wash himself, and then be in the kitchen on the stroke of five to help his father prepare the meal.
The Ladies always had plenty to discuss during their meals, but tonight there was even more to talk about; their conversations were always animated and cheerful. Orgasm-heavy days no longer left them exhausted—after all, they no longer performed any physical labor, limiting their activity to the gym, horseback riding, and shopping.
The actual work was handled by their servants. The conversation usually revolved around their professional activities; Madelon was earning a tidy sum working for Michaela in the dungeon and on house calls, steadily building up a solid client base.
Diana was earning even more with Michaela; although she wasn’t yet permitted to make house calls, she was already earning twice as much as her stepmother while working fewer hours. Madelon recounted the events of the afternoon—how Michaela had decided against fitting out the attic due to the high cost of waterproofing the basement—and described the punishment she had meted out to the contractor, noting that Diana was also required to punish him on Michaela’s orders.
Diana asked if she had climaxed during the punishment; Madelon didn’t even blink at the question. Diana had witnessed her climaxing with loud moans during punishments inflicted on her father, her brother, and all the slaves they had disciplined together, so Madelon admitted she had thoroughly enjoyed herself that afternoon, despite the disappointing news.
Diana suggested they fit out the attic themselves with the help of Peter and Paul, adding that they could perhaps enlist some of their own regular slaves for the task. “I can’t think of a slave of mine who would be suitable right away,” said Madelon.
“I can,” said Diana; “I have a young slave who wants to serve me completely—24/7—but that isn’t possible here in the house, and he still lives with his parents. However, it would work in Katwijk; that house is much bigger than this one, and you could take on a slave there too, Mom.”
It is only possible if the young man is of legal age and—naturally—we don’t run into trouble with his family. Madelon actually knew she didn’t need to say this; Diana was very intelligent and thought everything through carefully. The young man was eighteen and lived with his father—an alcoholic—while his mother’s whereabouts were unknown.
He wanted to get away from his father as soon as possible; he worked as a shelf stacker at a supermarket and spent almost all his money on Diana. Diana saw no future for the boy as a client; her rates were now so high that he couldn’t afford them, though she had kept him on at a reduced rate because of her plan to turn him into a total slave.
“That gardener of Michaela’s would be just the thing for you, I imagine,” she said. Madelon blushed; she hadn’t realized Diana had noticed her interest in the gardener—she had been keen on him and would have gladly taken over Diana’s sessions with him.
Madelon harbored no illusions that this might actually happen, but Diana knew more; like Madelon, she knew that cutbacks were necessary, but she also knew that Michaela was on the verge of bankruptcy and needed to get rid of slaves who were merely a cost and generated no revenue.
Peter and Paul were told they had to go to Katwijk to assist, and Diana offered to take charge of supervision that evening; Madelon would stay home to review the contracts they had finalized.
Paul had to help Diana change; she instructed Peter to pack a bag with various whips and canes and to bring towels for her. Meanwhile, Paul had to lay out her long black boots and pleated leather miniskirt, and help her put on her crotch less pantyhose—a task for which he had to wear special white gloves. Ultimately, she wore a leather bra topped with a short leather jacket, a matching pleated leather skirt, and black stockings.
At half past seven, the two slaves set off with the young Mistress for Katwijk; to avoid attracting attention, she had a long black leather coat draped over her shoulders so the neighbors couldn’t see the details of her outfit, while Paul and Peter wore work clothes.
Paul opened the door for Diana and she took the back seat, while the two men sat in the front; twenty minutes later, they arrived in Katwijk. Neighbor Jaap heard their car in the driveway and stood there, unabashedly watching as Diana stepped out; she made sure he could get a glimpse up her skirt, hoping the cameras would do their job—she had brought along her laptop containing the compilation, as she intended to pay that neighbor a visit later that evening.
Neighbor Jaap saw them approaching along the path; he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Diana, taking in her shapely breasts, short skirt, and high boots—Diana had opened her coat so he could see everything clearly. They went inside, where the contractor was already waiting; he hadn’t expected a Mistress—certainly not Diana—and although he didn’t recognize her, he knew instantly that this stunningly beautiful young Lady was a Mistress.
He didn’t know what to do. “Kneel, slaves,” she commanded, and all three men knelt before her. “You two”—she pointed to Rob, the contractor, and Peter—”go upstairs and get to work now; Paul will come later.”
Paul had to unpack her bag and lay everything out for her; she told him she was going to see the neighbor for a discussion and that he needed to be on standby in case she called him. Diana rang Jaap’s doorbell; he had seen it coming and was slightly surprised that she was paying him a visit.
“I want to speak to you, Jaap,” she said. “Please come in, Madam,” he said, taking her long coat from her shoulders and hanging it on the rack in the hallway by the front door. She waited for Jaap to lead the way to the living room and open the door for her; he then showed her where she could sit.
Diana sat down in the armchair in such a way that her already short skirt rode up even higher, while simultaneously giving Jaap a clear view down her cleavage; she made a stunning impression on him. Even though he could clearly see she was very young, Jaap consistently addressed her as “Ma’am,” while she called him Jaap.
“Would you like something to drink, Ma’am?” he asked. “Coffee—black, no sugar,” she replied. Jaap disappeared into the kitchen. Diana looked around; the layout mirrored the house she was about to move into, except that their house had a large rear extension and a basement, whereas this one didn’t.
Jaap returned with the coffee, and they took their first sips together. Diana got straight to the point, telling Jaap that both she and her mother had noticed the significant—and rather conspicuous—attention he had been paying them. Jaap was always full of confident talk from a distance or over the phone, but when faced with someone in person, he was just a small, cowardly man; he stammered that he hadn’t realized it and apologized.
Diana pressed the issue: she grabbed her laptop, sat on the sofa next to Jaap, and showed him all the photos, complete with timestamps. She told him that some of his behavior bordered on—or perhaps even crossed—the line of what was acceptable, showing him a photo where he was standing there with a visible erection, leering at her. “A private investigation agency took these for us and was willing to take further action, but the bottom line is that we want an amicable solution.
We have clients—ladies—coming over, and we can’t have the neighbor standing there leering with a hard-on. So, a privacy screen is going to be installed to block the view, and you’re paying at least half. If you refuse, we’ll file a formal complaint; it might get dismissed, but your reputation will be ruined—and our relationship, too—so it’s up to you.”
As she said all this, Diana stood up and placed her boot on the coffee table; her short skirt rode up, revealing a great deal—especially from Jaap’s vantage point, as he was looking straight up her crotch. She stood right next to him, relishing his discomfort as he no longer dared to look.
Diana found her daring display thrilling and a turn-on; she enjoyed Jaap’s unease, which aroused her intensely. Ideally, she would have whipped him then and there, but instead, she had him sign a declaration of intent stating that both neighbors would erect a boundary fence and share the costs. She said goodbye to Jaap and let him help her on with her coat; then, turning around, she grabbed him by the crotch and undid his fly.
Completely flustered, speechless, and even more aroused—his cock growing harder—he watched as Diana expertly pulled it out of his trousers. “I assume we’re agreed, Jaap,” she said, opening the door fully; now, there was a clear view of Jaap standing there with his bare, erect cock.
Diana returned to the house next door, while Jaap collected his wits and hurriedly closed the door; he had plenty to think about. The next day, her mother was coming to visit with the quote and the order to install a boundary fence. Once inside, Diana called her brother and told him to send the contractor downstairs; a minute later, the man knocked on the door.
Diana stood up and opened it for him, and he immediately knelt before the young woman. Diana explained that a screen was needed in the front garden to block the neighbor’s view and ordered him to walk out to the front garden with her.
“I see what you mean, Mistress,” he said, and they went back inside to discuss it; he was allowed to sit at the table opposite Diana. She was getting used to men—including her slaves—being unable to take their eyes off her, and she found the fear in their eyes when she caught them doing so highly arousing.
Diana noted that he had quickly assessed the situation. The answer was clear: preventing the neighbor from looking in required a fence of a certain height, which wasn’t permitted—though a hedge of that height was allowed—and he knew a landscaper who could handle the job.
“I need a quote by tomorrow evening, and you’re to hand it to my mother here tomorrow night; I’ll give him a call right now,” said Rob, as he prepared to head back up to the attic.
“Stay right here, slave; make the call here so I know immediately—and do it while on your knees,” she commanded him. The man called the landscaper—who, fortunately for him, was at home—and explained that he had an urgent job for him and needed a quote by tomorrow evening; he briefly outlined the situation, ended the call, and then, with his head bowed, awaited the young Mistress’s reaction.
Diana had him report what the landscaper had said—the quote would arrive tomorrow—and he immediately asked for permission to share something else. After receiving permission, he explained that the landscaper was his younger brother, who did not know he was a slave and must not find out.
“I will pass that on to my mother,” she replied, and ordered him to bare his torso; the man obeyed instantly. Once he had done so, he had to look at her; he gazed into the beautiful face of this Mistress—roughly the same age as his daughter, yet far more striking.
Diana held her riding crop beneath his chin and asked if he knew her name and who she was. “You are Mistress Madelon’s daughter, but I am sorry—I do not know your name.”
“My name is Diana, and I want you to introduce yourself to me now and tell me a little about yourself at the same time,” Diana said. He introduced himself as Ron, 45 years old, from Katwijk; he had two children—a boy and a girl—had been divorced for five years, lived alone, and had his children visit once a week.
Diana then ordered him to lift her skirt and lick her, striking him hard on his battered back as she did so; she could see her mother had done a thorough job. Fortunately for him, Diana climaxed quite quickly, and after two orgasms, she sent him back upstairs; she would punish him later for his poor licking technique—in addition to the scheduled rounds of punishment she was required to administer.
Two hours later, Paul reported that they were finished; Diana inspected the attic and saw that they had done a good job. “We’re going home now,” she commanded.