La Chatte Heureuse The Happy Pussy Ch 1
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La Chatte Heureuse (The Happy Pussy) Ch. 3 free porn video
Chapter 3: A Tour of the Slave Quarters.
“How many members are here at the moment?” I ask.
“Six mistresses and twenty slaves, excluding those on the staff. There are also four members who belong to the Ladies caste who arrived with you this morning.”
“I haven’t seen many members about the place,” I observe.
“Everyone is busy working in the tower trying to finish the refurbishment before the weekend. Normally you would see the field slaves working in the gardens and around the buildings, but they’ve all been reassigned to work in the tower for the next few days.”
“Field slaves?” I query Brooke’s comment.
“Unattached members who choose to be slaves can specify whether they wish to be a field slave, a bondage slave or a general slave. Field slaves are allocated the heavy manual work around the house and gardens. Bondage slaves spend most of their time restrained or imprisoned, but they too can be put to work. As the name implies, general slaves are used however a Mistress desires. Staff choosing to be slaves can only select the general slave category since the lifestyle of the other two categories would interfere too much with our duties. Slaves belonging to a specific mistress are referred to as ‘chattel slaves’. You can recognise chattel slaves by the steel collar they wear around their neck rather than the name necklaces everyone else wears.”
“There’s a lot to remember,” I say. “I didn’t realise this lifestyle could be so complicated.”
“There’s a logic to it all, but it may take you a day or so to get your head around all the details, Lady. Just remember that anyone without a necklace or steel collar is a guest, and that the colour of the letters spelling the person’s name shows their affiliation to one of the castes.”
“I’m not sure I’m going to be able to give orders to a slave,” I say.
“You won’t need to do that, Lady. Only a Mistress can issue orders to a slave. I’m showing you around because Madame Monique ordered me to do so. I’m not allowed to leave my work area unless a Mistress requires me to do a task which makes it necessary.”
“So how does obeying a Mistress' order match with the work duties you must perform?” I ask. “Surely you must experience times when you are unable to complete your work because a Mistress has ordered you to do something else.”
“None of the staff at La Chatte Heureuse have fixed working hours, Lady. We are required to perform our allotted tasks at any time of the day or night as required. As our receptionist, you will be expected to meet new arrivals and allocate the appropriate accommodation for their needs. It doesn’t matter if it’s a dozen members arriving by boat at lunchtime, or someone arriving by helicopter in the evening. It will be your task to meet them and allocate their accommodation according to their caste and needs. We are also expected to cover for another member of staff if they are absent or on leave. For example, Lady Ruth will be attending to any urgent office matters while I’m showing you around.”
Monique already warned me that my workload will require irregular hours, and since I’m living on-site, I don’t anticipate having a problem with meeting her expectations. However, I’ll reserve judgement on that until Monique explains my duties tomorrow.
We approach the third single-level building, which is quite different from the other two accommodation blocks. Firstly there’s a steel grill door across the entrance, which is barring our way.
“The slave quarters, Lady,” says Brooke, somewhat unnecessarily. “A slave cannot unlock this door, so I need you to open the door for us. If you place the palm of your hand on the pad here, the gatekeeper will identify you and unlock the door.”
A few moments later there’s an audible click and the grill slides open to let us enter the building. We walk through a pair of wooden doors beyond the grill and into a corridor running the length of the building.
“How did the gatekeeper know to open the door?” I ask, unable to see any watching cameras. “And who is this gatekeeper anyway?”
“The ‘gatekeeper’ is what we call the automated security system which controls access to the slave quarters and some of the other buildings to ensure slaves don’t enter or leave without a Mistress or Lady as an escort. It also monitors the sensors around the island, watching for any unauthorised landings.”
The slave quarters consist of four dormitories, each about the size of one of the staff dormitories in the administration block. Except here there are thirty beds crammed into each dormitory. The beds each have a thin mattress and a single blanket. I can’t fail to notice the steel ankle cuff fixed to the foot of each bed, which can be used to keep the slave shackled to her bed. It must get claustrophobic when every bed is in use.
“Do slaves actually like sleeping in here?” I ask. My mind is having difficulty in accepting that anyone would volunteer to sleep in these conditions for any length of time.
“Oh, yes, Lady. The alternative is to sleep in the dungeon downstairs.”
“Downstairs?” I query. “I thought this building was only one level.”
“There’s an area downstairs which used to be a wine cellar. We now use it as the dungeon, Lady,” replies Brooke. “Any slave who displeases a Mistress or Lady, or fails to complete her tasks on time, is made to sleep in the dungeon. Would you like to see the dungeon now?”
“Um … yes, okay,” I reply, not really sure if I’m ready for this.
Brooke leads me along the corridor until we reach a narrow staircase leading down. We go down the stairs into the basement. In front of us is another steel grill with what appears to be two cages with doors front and back. They obviously work like an airlock.
"I will wait upstairs, Lady," says Brooke. "A slave can enter the dungeon if a Lady or Mistress enters at the same time. But only a Mistress can escort a slave from the dungeon."
I'm torn between skipping the dungeon from our tour or satisfying my curiosity. The thought of a woman being locked in such a place stretches my moral boundaries to the limit. I might see something I'd rather not see. But I’ve already done wild things today, and I’ve felt sensations that I would never believe myself capable of experiencing. Consequently, curiosity wins the battle swirling inside me.
I place my palm on one of the pads by the left cage. There is an audible click as the outer door unlocks. I step into the cage, which is only just big enough for me, and pull the outer door closed. The moment the outer door locks, the inner door unlocks and I enter the eerie world of the dungeon.
I follow the short passageway as it doubles back on itself twice in an “S” shape. The effect is to block the light coming from the stairwell so that the main part of the dungeon is only lit by the subdued red lighting strategically placed around the walls. On one side of the dungeon are what appear to be eight cells, each with a stout wooden door containing a tiny barred window at head height. I peer into an open cell and stand frozen in … what? … horror? No … surprise? No … trepidation? Hmm … perhaps. The prospect that I might one day find myself locked in such a tiny room rattles my imagination and does strange things to my senses.
I take a deep breath and step inside the cell. The cell is only big enough for the door to swing open without colliding with the hard wooden bed placed across the cell. The only other item in here is a small chamber pot underneath the bed. There’s no light other than what leaks through the window in the door. Without thinking I start to fondle my tits, which promptly pop over the top of the half cups of my uniform. Instead of pushing them back in place, I toy with my nipples. I’m being really slutty, but I can’t resist satisfying my arousal. But I don’t want to be gone too long, so I take a deep breath and bring a halt to my indecent game.
On the other side of the dungeon is a small open area with wooden frames and trestles, the purpose of which I presume is to torment some poor slave. The chains hanging from the walls and the shackles bolted to the floor only reinforce my suspicions. The sudden sound of chains rattling coming from one of the cells interrupts my examination. It sounds as though I’m not alone in this dungeon.
I didn’t think to check all of the cells since Brooke had said that everyone is busy working in the tower. Do I dare to look and see who it is in the cell, or do I quietly leave and return to where Brooke said she’d wait? Once again my curiosity gets the better of me and I walk along the line of cells until I come to the cell numbered ‘5’. I peek through the cell door window and in doing so block what little light is entering the cell. The occupant of the cell immediately realises that I’m standing at the door to her cell.
“Forgive me, Mistress,” pleads the woman, who is obscured in the dark shadows of the cell.
There’s a rattle of chains and a moment later there’s a face looking back at me from the other side of the door. The face belongs to a woman who must be in her forties, although the weak light makes it difficult to be certain. I notice a steel collar around her neck … which means that this woman is what Brooke called a ‘chattel slave’ and that she’s ‘owned’ by a particular mistress.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“Slave G21, Madame. Oh! … Sorry. Lady,” says the slave when she notices my necklace.
“How long have you been in this cell?”
“I don’t know, Lady. Three or four days, perhaps. I’ve lost track of the time in the dark.”
“Who is your mistress and why has she locked you in here?”
“Mistress Penelope, Lady. I’m being punished for disobedience.”
“I’m new here so I don’t know any of the members yet. Do you need me to find your mistress?”
“That isn’t necessary, Lady. My mistress will come for me when she is ready to forgive me.”
“I see. Okay. How long has she been your mistress?” I ask out of curiosity.
“We’ve lived together for twenty-two years, Lady. I’ve been her slave for the last fifteen years.”
“And do you come to Greenway Mansion often?” I ask.
“We spend a fortnight at La Chatte Heureuse twice a year, Lady.”
“Hmm … well, unless there is anything you need me to do, I had better be getting back upstairs.”
“I am fine, Lady. I’m sorry for disturbing whatever you were doing.”
She moves away from the window and I lose sight of her in the darkness. I don’t linger and I return to the stairwell. Thankfully the dual door entrance opens when I place my palm on the pad and I quickly return upstairs to where Brooke is waiting for me.
“Who monitors the slaves locked in the dungeon cells?” I ask.
“Madame Stephanie oversees the slave quarters, including the dungeon, Lady,” replies Brooke. “She has slaves helping her by serving meals, and ensuring the slaves wash themselves and clean out their chamber pots regularly.”
“What happens if someone needs medical attention?” I ask.
“Slave Olivia is on the staff. She’s a qualified doctor. All of the staff receive training in advanced level first aid. If the patient needs hospital treatment then a helicopter can be here in under an hour to transport them to the nearest hospital.”
We continue our tour by walking across to the two-level building used as a ‘games room’. The strong wooden outer doors are locked to prevent a slave from entering without a Mistress or a Lady escorting her. As before, the door unlocks in response to my palm print. Once inside, I discover a selection of different sized rooms providing settings ranging from a mock dungeon to a sheik’s harem. Most rooms are no bigger than a large bedroom and are clearly designed for intimate games between two, three or four people. Upstairs the rooms are larger and suitable for group games. But there’s nothing large enough to house a game for all the members currently here, let alone the number of members who could be here if all the accommodation is occupied.
“Where are the special events hosted?” I ask.
“The stables are used for special events restricted to twenty-five members. Special events larger than that have been held outdoors. Those limitations have affected the frequency and types of events we can hold. But once the tower is reopened, then special events for up to fifty members can be held there. Madame Monique is planning to hold a large special event in the tower at the end of this month.”
“What sort of event is it going to be?” I ask.
“She hasn’t told any of the staff, Lady. Apparently all will be revealed tomorrow when the bookings open to members.”
“And do you intend to participate?” I ask.
“If I can, Lady. Although Madame Monique will firstly need to approve my request for leave of absence from my duties. It’s impractical for staff to participate in the special events and carry out their duties as well.”
I recall from the employment contract I signed that staff get a generous number of days' leave. The leave allowance reflects the fact that while at work we need to be available twenty-four hours a day. Some of the stranger clauses in my contract are starting to make sense now that I’m beginning to understand how La Chatte Heureuse operates. There’s still a lot I’ve taken on trust. As I said before, I jumped into this dark erotic world without a lot of investigation beforehand.
Brooke takes me across to the stables, although there’s not a lot to see inside. The original stalls and hay loft are still in place, although horses probably haven't been kept here for decades. I’m not sure what events could be held in these stables.
“The last special event held here required the slaves to dress as pony girls, Lady,” says Brooke in response to my question. “They had to sleep in the stalls like a horse. During the day, the Mistresses had the slaves run races towing their rider on a specially constructed cart. The competition lasted all week, although half of the slaves had to drop out from exhaustion before the end.”
Brooke’s comments start my mind thinking again. Could I see myself dressed as a pony girl, or is my inclination towards being the rider, whipping my poor pony girl into running faster? That’s an interesting question I need to think about. I had the same dilemma when I visited the dungeon earlier. Would I prefer to be the victim or the tormentor?
I’m studying the stalls when music starts playing through a hidden speaker somewhere inside the stables. As before, Brooke is rendered helpless as the music achieves its wicked aims. She staggers towards me with both her hands clutching her cunt. Her eyes are glazing over as she surrenders herself to the obscene pleasure the electronic vibrator in her cunt is delivering. She lets out mewling noises, but nothing intelligible.
By now, I’m in a highly charged state after wearing my sexy uniform for a while and witnessing everything I’ve seen around me. Consequently, I don’t hesitate to take advantage of Brooke’s distraction to take hold of her tits and unashamedly play with them. Brooke is too preoccupied to stop me and neither of us makes any effort to stop her orgasm exploding in a flood. With her cunt satisfied for the moment, Brooke promptly flings her arms around my neck and kisses me with a passion. I respond in kind, while simultaneously reaching for her cunt and feeling her sopping wet panties. The music stops before Brooke can be brought to another orgasm, but that doesn’t stop the pair of us from continuing our passionate embrace.
Moments later we are rolling about in the hay with my top unfastened. I’ve imagined having sex with a woman before, but I’ve never done anything about it. Perhaps it’s why I subconsciously accepted this job without too much hesitation. I’m not sure if there is any rule governing sex between staff members, or between Lady and Slave. If there are any rules then neither of us is paying them any attention. I’m so aroused that there’s no shameful act I wouldn’t perform or endure to achieve the orgasm I yearn for.
Brooke is clearly in the same state of arousal. Moments later I feel my panties being pulled down, followed by Brooke’s mouth over my cunt and her tongue teasing my clit. I’m too far gone in hedonistic delight to control my mounting arousal. I come with the most powerful orgasm I can ever remember experiencing. Mission achieved, Brooke rolls over and allows me to return the favour. I’ve never sucked a woman’s cunt before, so this is new territory for me. Brooke needs to guide my actions for a few moments, but I soon get the rhythm right and bring Brooke to another orgasm.
“I hope you didn’t mind me taking advantage of you like that,” I say once we’ve finished having sex and dressed ourselves once again.
“I don’t mind at all, Lady. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to be a slave. I like when someone takes me the way you did just now.”
“Does this happen to you a lot?” I ask.
“Not as often as I would like, Lady. But I’ve only been a slave for a few weeks and it takes a while for Mistresses to understand a new slave’s fetishes.”
“Am I allowed to do what I did to any slave?”
“As a Lady, you can’t command a slave to comply with your wishes. But it’s unusual for a slave not to willingly consent to a simple sexual liaison. Playing bondage games or administering spankings will need the slave’s agreement, which may not always be forthcoming. And I suggest you check with a chattel slave’s mistress before making any advances towards a chattel slave. The slave will probably be okay with having sex with you, but the mistress may get her nose out of joint.”
“And do you like bondage or being spanked?” I ask.
“If you are asking me whether I will consent to you playing those sorts of games with me, then I would be delighted if you did, Lady. But most of the facilities for such games are only available to Mistresses and their slaves.”
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