Monday, 23 June 2008


Right! I am a little lazy. But now it doesn't matter because I have a guest posting. Ramon send me this story which I found delightful. I decided to put it on my blog, asked him for permission and was granted it. I did edit it. I have to admit it but just a little. I changed the spelling of one word. I couldn't help myself and can only ask Ramon for forgiveness. And I said changed, not corrected.

And what a coincidence that the heroine of this story is called Janice! I can assure you I had nothing to do with it...smiles. So, read and enjoy!

Janice smoothed down her faux-fur outfit, wishing her arms and legs weren't quite so exposed. She shivered, and not because of the air-conditioning in the crowded conference hall. It could have been much worse; the girl two over on her right was wearing that Arabian slave-girl costume Mary had originally chose for her; with veils transparent enough to be effectively invisible, at least to hungry eyes. Crazy Mary! Janice had laughed when Mary had first leaned over the desk they shared and told her that she had volunteered them both for the company's fund raising evening; this year an auction of office workers to the highest bidder. Of course she had flatly refused, but Mary had spent all afternoon working on her. 'It's for charity' and 'look at the homeless children, look at the poor dears' she whined. Mary had planned this well, she even had photos of hungry waifs. Finally Janice caved, but flatly refused to wear the outfit her delighted co-worker produced from under her desk. Finally a compromise was arranged; she swapped with someone whom Mary knew from another office . So instead of standing in line in front of a thousand laughing office workers as a harem girl, she was Captive Barbarian Princess from the Far Northern Steppe. Mary always had a flair for description.

Three had been sold so far, and the audience was getting warmed up. Wads of cash and credit cards were waved as the auctioneer praised the next slave's (it was the harem-girl) attributes: the length of her legs, the firmness of her torso. He didn't really have to go into much detail, thought Janice, when those veils left nothing to the imagination. It was then she noticed one man in the third row who wasn't gripped by the current item on sale. He was looking straight at her, hand to his chin as if weighing something up with a professional eye. He was weighing her up! She looked away and tugged downwards on her costume, as if she could increase the hem length by a few metres. He was probably comparing all the girls. No, a quick glance back and his gaze was still on her. His face was set. He had made a decision.

The applause from the last sale was settling down and she felt a hand in her back and was pushed forward. It was her turn already. She stared at the edge of the dais as offers started to flow in, many more than she expected. That voice was Will from accounts; she cringed to think she would have to spend the rest of the dinner with him at his table and all his rugger-bugger friends. The bids settled down, it was a battle between Will and another unknown male voice. Deeper than Will's. The kind of voice that was used to projecting across rooms, even auction rooms. Janice looked up as the final bid was cast. In the front row Will was despondent and the man in the third row was striding up the stairs to pay and take possession of her. Another shiver.

'I believe you're mine for the evening' was all he said with a smile, and lightly took hold of her upper arm. She felt his finger tips there. They may as well have been steel chains that wrapped themselves around her. 'I am', she answered.

She had never met the people at his table before but they were great fun. They and the man (Antony, he introduced himself) made her feel at ease and less self-conscious. Soon she was getting into the spirit of the evening for the first time; she laughed when Antony's friends asked his permission to pour her a glass of wine. When offered dessert by a waiter, she coyly suggested he 'Ask her master'.

'I will allow it this time', he said, and returned her impish grin with interest.

The function was winding down. Only a last few die-hard dancers were still on the floor. Antony guided her back to their now deserted table for refreshments. She was getting anxious again, but not because of the auction or her circumstances, but because of the impending end of the evening. Antony looked up at the clock, oh no, it was all about to end. He would turn to her, kiss her hand and say something about how wonderful it had all been. It would be over. No. She was a Barbarian Princess who fought polar bears and marauding Neanderthal tribes on the harsh tundra. She took chances, not like Janice the office worker.

'How long did you buy me for?' she half croaked.

He looked surprised. 'Well I'm not really sure. Midnight? I have no idea'. He did have an idea. Other couples - Masters and slave girls - were bidding each other goodnight, laughing and kissing each other.

'Its traditionally ... daybreak, isn't it...?'. Janice couldn't believe she just said that. He was looking at her very closely.

'I believe it is...I believe it is.' He wavered for a second, then his voice was suddenly very firm. 'You'd better come with me then', he said standing and taking her once again by the arm. the Barbarian Princess, pulsed with fear and excitement as he led her to the lifts. He pressed the 'up' button and she jerked his hand off her.

'That's no way to treat a Princess from the North' she said.

'Is that so?' he answered. '

No it is not. In my land I should have you fed to the polar bears for your insolence'. Janice pouted and thrust her breast defiantly forward. She hoped her eyes were flashing. She hoped he'd take the bait. The lift doors opened and grabbing her by the arm he pushed her in. 'Princess?' he said sarcastically. 'I have bought you at a slave action. You are a slave. My slave.' She started to fight, she wanted him to be rougher, to increase the pressure on her arm, to wrestle her to the ground. Trying to control her, Antony pressed the 'stop' button and using all his strength, grabbed her wrists and held her still. As she squirmed, he managed with one hand to undo his belt and wrap it over her torso, just under her breasts, pinning her arms by her sides. He buckled the belt tightly and smiled as he watched her struggle in the improvised restraints. She began swearing at him and he put her hand over her mouth.

'Quiet now', and she obeyed. He pressed floor 12 again, took off his dinner jacket and swept it over her shoulders, buttoning it on. Janice was amazed. To anyone waiting for the lift on their level, and there were two, she looked like a girl dressed in evening wear who had been given a jacket to wear by her considerate boyfriend against the midnight chill. They couldn't see the leather restraint underneath that kept her as his prisoner.

The people on Level 12 walked past them onto the lift without even a backwards glance, and Antony lead her to his room. Inside he unbuttoned his coat, stood back and admired her. He stepped forward, and with hands on her shoulders bent down for a passionate kiss. Not hard, but firm. Bound as she was, she felt self conscious again, but she refused to let go of the moment and returned the kiss with vigour. It was wonderful and she felt the current flow from his lips and down her spine. Then she bit his lip, not too hard but enough to surprise him,and she broke away,making a run to the door. He had her before she was half way there. He dragged her to the window, and her wondering why they were there ended when he pulled down the curtain cords. He unbuckled his belt and began binding her wrists, crossed over, behind her back.

He fought him, but he was too strong and she loved it.

'I'm sorry I have to do this', he said breathing heavily 'but you left me no option. You're mine for the night, I paid good money for you, and I'm completely within my rights to bind...' he undid his tie and cleave-gagged her, tying the knot at the base of her neck, '....and gag you'. Satisfied, he sat back on his elbows as she writhed and swore at him. After a few minutes of fruitless struggling, she lay back and glared at him. Exhausted.

Seeing she was done, Antony scooped her up and onto the bed. He kissed her legs, her shoulders, and her neck. Getting closer and closer to her lips. 'Now the evening starts, my prisoner. No don't tire yourself struggling. I can see I'm going to have to keep you like this till morning. And if you don't behave it will be the back of my hand'. Janice's eyes widened. She couldn't get free. She was his captive. And it was wonderful.


Paul said...

Janice, a nice story, please pass my compliments to Ramon.
Thank you dear girl, always a pleasant visit and sometimes much more.
Warm hugs,

wilhelmina said...

Thank you Ramon for a fun and interesting story. A delightful role play, Janice got lucky indeed. I love the Barbarian Princess idea very much...hmmm, something to store in memory for the future.

Thanks Janice for posting this.