A Controlled Existence

Chapter Three-1

Chapter Three

Strange Interludes

The following Saturday, Paul and his pulchritudinous trio of slaves had breakfast. Then they took the train into New York. As planned, they arrived just in time to take a cab to the Gilded Cage for lunch with “Princess Ondine.”

“Hello, Dr. Ulbrecht. Welcome back,” said the woman at the captain’s station.

“Thank you, Patti.”

“Is your party all here?” she asked.

“No, we’re still waiting for one, but we’ll go ahead and be seated and have a glass of wine.”

“Very well, Sir,” she said as she grabbed menus and a wine list. “Right this way.”

About fifteen minutes later, an attractive and elegantly dressed woman breezed up to the table. Paul rose and kissed her on the cheek. Then he pulled out the chair to his left and seated her next to him. “You’re lucky that I love you, Paul. There is no other man I’d be here for. You are cutting into my performance time. My subjects are very upset that I had to cut things short this morning,” she said.

“I’m sorry, your highness, but your subjects love you. I am sure that once you are again in their presence, they will rejoice and forgive you,” replied Paul, smiling. “I introduced these three to you kingdom and then initiated them into the OhMiBod.”

Ondine chuckled. “And how did you like it?”

“You were amazing,” gushed Courtney. “And the vibrator was intense. How do you do it for so long?”

“It’s really easy once you get used to it and know what is coming—no pun intended. I get compensated to pleasure myself.”

“Charlotte, I should make the introductions,” interrupted Paul. “This is Kat…Meg…and your fan there is Courtney,” he said pointing at each one in turn. “Slaves, this is Charlotte.”

“Call me Ondine,” she responded. “It’s how I’m known in the community. I feel like we’re all one family here.”

“Why ‘Ondine’?,” Meg asked.

“In a play by Jean Giraudoux, Ondine is a water-sprite attracted to the human world, who marries a knight—all very romantic. I just liked the sound of it. I added the princess part because it reminded me of Princess Jasmine in Disney’s Aladdin and Yasmin Khan, the daughter of Rita Hayworth and Aly Khan.”

Lunch proceeded like any casual lunch among friends. Ondine’s eye, however, kept being drawn to Kat. She noticed what Courtney had noticed—how much they resembled each other. Though Ondine’s hair was longer than Kat’s, it was almost the same shade. Their coloring was similar. And although she could not tell through clothing, it appeared their builds were about the same, though Ondine seemed at least a few of inches taller.

As Paul settled the check, Ondine said, “Thank you Paul for a lovely lunch. You have an embarrassment of riches in these three, if they are well-trained. And, knowing you, they are very well-trained. But I must return to my kingdom.”

Then a light bulb seemed to go off, and a wicked smile curled her lip. She turned to Paul and whispered in his ear for some time. Paul looked puzzled for a moment. Then he pondered. At last he said, “Princess Ondine would like to invite all of us to visit her kingdom this afternoon. She would like you, Kat, and me to join her on camera.”

“I’d introduce you, Kat, as my slave sister and Paul as our Master. It will be fun! I’ve never had s*x on camera.”

“I have always wanted to f**k you, Charlotte,” Paul said.

“I was trained as a Gorean kajira, Paul. You are a free person, and a kajira can never say no to a freeborn. All you had to do was ask,” she replied.

“What’s a kajira?” asked Kat.

“I’ll explain it to you later, slave.” Paul looked at Kat, who lowered her eyes and nodded in assent. “Do you have enough masks, Charlotte?”

“Remember, call me Ondine. I can supply masks for you two. And I can provide her with an OhMiBod.”

“You’ll also have to supply a pair of panties for her, since she’s not permitted to wear any.”

Ondine looked at Kat and, leering, licked her lips. “I can do that, too.” She rose and pulled her phone out of her bag. “I just tweeted my 300,000-plus followers that, beginning at two-thirty, there will be a very special show, featuring my sister slave and our Master. I think we’ll have a mob. I told them it wouldn’t be cheap, but it would be worth it.” Ondine then departed to get back to her “kingdom.”

In the cab on the way to Ondine’s, Kat asked Paul again, “Master, what is a Gorean kajira?”

Paul explained that Gorean was a subculture within b**m. They base their practices on a series of science fiction novels written by a philosophy professor under the name John Norman. They are set on the planet Gor, where the men are dominant and women are subservient kajiras, or s*x slaves. The cult grew up without the approval of John Lange, the philosopher’s real name.

It all sounded like more adolescent laddie fantasy to Kat, but Paul assured her that, though it wasn’t his thing, it seemed to work for those involved. In 1974, Lange/Norman published a manual entitled Imaginative s*x with various roleplay scenarios meant to free hetero couples’ minds for pleasure. By contemporary standards it is singularly unimaginative, but it was one of the first attempts to introduce D/s into the mainstream. It suffered the sad misfortune, however, of coming out at the tail end of the s****l revolution and at the beginning of women’s liberation, and it never developed more than an underground following.

About twenty minutes later, the entire party found themselves entering Ondine’s large, well-appointed apartment in a modern building on East End Avenue. Kat, who was wealthy in her own right, stared, jaw agape. It was a duplex, which in New York real estate parlance meant a two-story apartment. The living room, where the couch used as the “set” for Ondine’s webcasts was located, had a fireplace and expansive views of the East River. Charlotte must be very good at advertising, she thought. And she certainly didn’t need whatever “supplement to income” that came from her performances. It was easily a six million dollar apartment.

Ondine’s voice interrupted Kat’s mental calculations. Pointing at Paul and Kat, she said, “Now, you two strip. The sheet is already on the sofa from this morning. I’ll get you both masks and you a pair of panties and an OhMiBod.”

“You did theater in college, didn’t you, Ondine?” Kat asked.

“I was a dual drama/business major. Let me tell you, theater has helped me immensely in advertising. How can you tell?” Ondine responded.

Kat smiled. “Just a lucky guess, but you can be my props mistress any day.” Ondine chuckled and bustled upstairs.

Paul shrugged and began to undress. Kat shrugged, too, and followed his lead.

“Master,” Meg began, “I know Courtney and I will not be on camera—and given my job, I’m grateful—but I was wondering if we could get naked, too and masturbate while we watch what I am sure is going to be an incredibly hot show?”

“I would never have agreed to you being on camera, Meg. You know that I will always protect you. Strip if you must, and you have my permission to play with yourselves. You need not ask me to come, but if you do come, do it quietly and don’t break the scene.”

“Yes, Master…I mean, no, Master. Uhhh. Thank you, Master.” Paul smiled, crossed to her, took her in his arms, and kissed her.

When Ondine came down the stairs, she was greeted by not two, but four, naked people. Smiling, she said, “Do I have three slave sisters?”

“Yes,” said Paul, “but these two will not be camming.”

Ondine looked Meg and Courtney up and down. “Pity,” she said, “but one can’t have everything, I suppose.” She handed a mask to Paul and mask, panties like hers, and vibrator to Kat. Ondine herself was dressed in the white lace boy shorts they had seen the previous week and a thin white tube top. Through the panties, one could make out the black outline of a vibrator inside.

Then the drama major returned. “Let me start the show as usual. After I get my top off, give me a few minutes. Then, Paul, you come on and put me in the restraints on the sofa.” This last, of course, was pure showmanship on her part: in a normal, solo show, she slipped in and out of them by herself. She continued, “I’ll set the goal high—say, five thousand tokens. When that’s met, Kat you come in and release me. Then we’ll make out a little on the couch and do a little stand-up duet. Just follow my lead. Then Paul you come back in, make us kneel and fellate you. We’ll see where we go after that.”

“It sounds like you have it pretty well choreographed,” Paul said.

“Well, I know my fans, but this is new territory for me. Oh and, Kat, there is a little pouch in the front of the panties to hold the vibrator. Don’t put it in until you are ready to come on camera. Just leave it on the piano, there.” She glanced at a clock on the mantle. “It’s almost 2:30. Showtime! You all just wait by the piano. Meg, Courtney, do whatever you’re going to do and enjoy.”

Ondine went over couch and typed on her keyboard, which was off to one side. She logged on and set the title for her room: “OhMiBod panties vibrate at the sound of tips. Goal=5000 tks. At goal, see Princess’ slave sister and Master. Welcome, Loyal Subjects.” When the room went live, she was amazed to see 6,000 viewers already there.

Ondine adjusted the camera and then stood in front of the couch. She blew a kiss to her subjects. Then she began to dance a little, running her hands over her breasts and up to her face. The group by the piano could not see the screen, but they could hear every time a tip dropped. When one did, depending on the amount, Ondine would flinch or convulse, and her hands would go to her crotch. After each, she said, “Thank you,” and named the tipper. “Thank you, venividiveni.” “Thank you, princessprotector.”

Meg and Courtney had already situated themselves on the floor, and they were rubbing their clits as they watched Ondine tease her audience. Kat and Paul were standing, waiting for their cues.

Ondine pulled her top down and slid it off at her feet. Once her boobs were exposed, the rate of tips increased. Kat pointed at her vibrator, which was resting on its back on the piano. Paul looked. It was jumping like a Mexican jumping bean at the sound of the jingling coins. “You should enjoy that, slave,” he whispered in Kat’s ear.

Just before Paul stepped on camera, he noticed a padded sleep mask with an elastic strap on a hall table. Stepping on camera, he took Ondine by the wrist. “Master, you’re early,” Ondine protested weakly. Paul said nothing but led her to the couch. Pushing her down, he put her in the cuffs. Then he retreated off cam. Picking up the blindfold, he came back in the camera’s frame, positioning himself between Ondine and the camera, blocking the audience’s view of her. He took off her opera mask and dangled it behind his back in the audience’s face. It was a deliberately risqué gesture, since it was not time to reveal her face. Tips spiked upward. What the audience could not see was that while he waved the opera mask with his left hand, like a magician masterful at misdirection, he was putting the sleep mask on her with his right. When he stepped away, her face was as hidden as it had been before, and now she was blindfolded, too. As he departed, he glanced at the screen. The total showed that 3,000 tokens had been received. When he reached the piano, he retrieved his phone from his clothes and typed.

Almost immediately, there was the sustained sound of clinking. She had been given a one-thousand-token tip. Ondine strained at her chains like King Kong captured on Skull Island and moaned. It was not fake. She was close to climaxing. As soon as the sensation subsided, she was hit with a one-thousand again. She thrashed and screamed. This time, she did come. Looking at the camera, she smiled and said, “Thank you, Domination.” Both tips had come from Paul.

Kat slipped the vibrator into her panties and scurried out to “rescue” Ondine. She released her and stroked her face and t**s. She also replaced her opera mask, using the same blocking maneuver Paul had. Then she kissed her. The masks didn’t make it easy, and making out was rendered difficult by frequent interruptions by tips. At one point, Ondine almost bit Kat’s tongue. At that point, the two cracked up and laughed loudly. “C’mon, sis. Let’s give them a little show.” Taking Kat by the hand, she led her to the point in front of the couch where she had started the show.