Jeff steals a furtive glance over at his tight lipped wife as she resolutely stares out of
the window, completely lost and oblivious to the beautiful Scottish scenery flashing past,
her own thoughts preoccupying her. As he refocuses his attention back on the road ahead,
Jeff’s thoughts turn to just how difficult a task it had been to get his wife to agree to
his choice of vacation for a change, she had fought against the idea like the proverbial
hellcat, but had soon realised it was to no avail, no amount of tears and tantrums,
feminine wiles or indeed any amount of play acting on her part could shake his resolve
this time, his mind was set. In the two days since their vacation had started, all she had
proceeded to do was to complain about even the smallest of trivialities, nothing had met
with her satisfaction and she had left him in no doubt whatsoever of what she considered
to be his many faults and shortcomings. A slight smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as
he wonders just what his dear wife will make of their final destination, which is now fast
approaching.
As they drive around yet another curve in the road, Jeff is stunned by the sight that
meets his eyes, and at the same time hears an audible gasp from his wife. The brochure and
literature that he had enthusiastically perused prior to the holiday had failed to capture
just how breathtakingly spectacular the ‘holiday home’ was to be. The castle rises up
tall, proud and defiant from its island home in the deepest part of the loch, its
centuries old mottled grey walls dark and foreboding against the red, orange and pink hues
of the sunset framing its ghostly austere silhouette, as the silver water shimmers and
dances all around it, as though alive. It all serves to add to the aurora of eeriness that
seems to emanate from the very castle itself.
Grace leans over, a sardonic smile on her face, “How quaint, a themed holiday! Surely,
you can’t expect me to spend our vacation there, do you?” Jeff bristles visibly at the
harsh sarcastic tone in her voice, but turns and steadfastly holds her gaze, clear blue
eyes cold and hard as steel, “I expect you to do just that dear, and what’s more I expect
you to be courteous, gracious and respectful to our host at all times.” Grace made a
noise that sounds like half laugh, half snort of derision.
Quick as a flash Jeff’s hand shoots out and grabs her chin, tilting her head, forcing
her to look at him, “If you like your privileged position in life as my wife and all that
entails you will do as you are told, for if not, when we return home, you will find
yourself divorced, and back on the street with only the clothes you came to me in. It is
high time you learned to behave as a wife should and not some spoilt, over indulged
child!” Grace shudders at his words, the strident tone coupled with the dark look on her
husband’s face telling her that he means every word of it.
Tentatively, she asks, “What do you mean…behave?” Jeff releases her chin and sighs
heavily, “The choice is simple, Grace, either you can spend some time here learning to be
the wife I want you to be, that indeed we both know you can be, instead of the spiteful,
materialistic bitch that our marriage seems to have created, or you can face me across the
divorce court.”
Grace shrinks back from his stinging words as if she has been physically slapped; she
knew she had been pushing the boundaries of her luck lately, but really this was just too
much. However, she also knew that as far as she was concerned divorce wasn’t an option;
Jeff was one of the founding partners in one of the largest and most prestigious law firms
in the States and very influential; she wouldn’t stand a chance against him in court. He
would be true to his word and see she would be stripped of everything, right down to her
pride and dignity.
Grudgingly, Grace nods her acceptance of his terms; angrily brushing away the hand he
lays on her leg in an attempt to placate her.
“You’ll see that this is for the best, it will be hard, but it will be worth it.”
Grace looks at her husband wryly, the tears of anger and frustration welling up in her
eyes, “I just don’t understand why you are planning to put me through this!”
Jeff takes Grace’s hand tenderly in his, “That’s not important now, but you will
understand before you leave here, I promise. Now let’s get over there and not keep our
host waiting any longer. There will be a short meeting, after which my dear, I will be
leaving you in his capable hands, but you can be sure that I will be kept well informed of
your progress, however, you will not see me for the next 30 days.”
Grace’s protest dies on her lips, silenced by a look from her husband and with a sinking
heart knows it is futile to pursue the matter further. Jeff brings the car to a halt at a
space in the roadside, throws his door open and rounds the car opening Grace’s. He holds
out his hand to her as she takes a deep breath, rolls her eyes and slips her hand into
his. Jeff starts to lead the way down a trail, leading to the edge of the loch, when he
feels her tug on his hand.
“Wait…my luggage,” she stammers.
He smiles knowingly at her, “You’ll have no need for luggage on this trip.” They continue
down the trail approaching what appears to be a small jetty with a row boat moored at the
end of it. Without the slightest hesitation Jeff jumps into it, sending the boat rocking
precariously, the wash splashing up the wooden sides, and starts to untie the ropes,
before holding out his hand to Grace again, as he notes her reluctance, “Don’t back out on
me now.”
In answer Grace steps into the boat, carefully placing herself on the tiny seat. She is
unexpectedly rewarded with Jeff flashing the first genuine smile at her that Grace has
seen in too many months to mention, as he rolls up his shirt sleeves and begins to row,
his toned body straining, muscles rippling as he fights against the current, his large
hands skilfully working the oars as the sweat gathers on his brow and drips from his
chest.
As the castle looms in the distance, Grace feels her mouth go dry, her head swim, and
her heart pound wildly as though trying to escape from her chest and her stomach
somersault, but no matter how hard she tries to deny it there is also a rather thrilling
feeling of anticipation, excitement and the fear of the unknown. It is a heady mix, but
female intuition advises her that if she enters the castle towering above her, life is
never going to be the same again.
A fresh wave of panic threatens to engulf Grace as she suddenly feels the boat come to
rest on the shore bank of the remote island, the castle rising above her more imposing and
intimidating than ever. With almost indecent haste Jeff pulls her from her sitting
position, scooping her up into his arms and striding through the shallow water, before
depositing her on the sandy shoreline.
After completing an exhausting ascent of the steep, winding, well worn stone steps up to
the castle and entering through the ornate wrought iron and wooden door at the top, Jeff
and Grace are quickly ushered from the magnificent entrance hall to a spacious study and
met at the door by a tall, large, imposing man whom Grace estimates correctly to be in his
early forties.
“Welcome, to the Lair,” he smiles. Grace shivers, astutely noticing the smile didn’t
quite reach his eyes. He gestures them towards a group of chairs, closely placed together,
where the trio proceed to sit. After the obligatory polite introductions and a little
small talk, Master Dusk turns his attention to Grace.
“Well Grace, I believe that your husband has already outlined our programme here and
that you to all intents and purposes have agreed to it?” Grace can only nod quietly, the
strange circumstances rendering her unusually speechless. “Good, we are off to a great
start then. Now I just want to go over it once more, just to make sure we all understand
each other, then get your signatures before moving on to your training.”
He hands copies of a contract to both Jeff and Grace, while keeping hold of one for
reference.
“Grace, be warned nothing about your training here will come easily. At the Lair we will
stop at nothing to strip you of everything you have ever learned about your place in life,
your sexuality, your beliefs about a woman’s role in this society, in other words, remould
you into a completely new person.”
Grace shifts nervously in her chair re-crossing her long, shapely legs, as she wonders
if indeed she does want to become a new person. As it was, she didn’t see anything really
wrong with the person she was, but for once she bites her tongue and remains quiet,
knowing that the choice was either this ‘training’ as they called it, or divorce and in
her mind divorce was far from an option, although it was starting to look like it might be
the easier one of the two.
Master Dusk returns his attention back to Jeff. “You will give us complete permission to
do anything we wish with your wife, to use her in any way we deem fit, to change her
physical as well as mental appearance as we see fit, yes? Of course, Grace will have to
give her permission for this too.”
Jeff doesn’t hesitate for a second, “Absolutely.” He ignores the filthy look Grace
throws his way, along with the indignant sounding groan.
Master Dusk continues. “Grace, once you sign these papers, you become the property of
the Lair for the length of time specified by your contract. You will do as you are told,
when you are told, how you are told. Punishment is swift and severe for ANY infringement
or failure to follow the rules. This is not country club, nor is it a fun filled retreat.
You are here at your husband’s request to be transformed into a pleasing submissive
creature eager to fulfil her Master’s every desire and your life will be all the richer
for your efforts. But the transformation will be difficult for you to say the least.”
Grace looks from Master Dusk to her husband, squirming nervously, a faint sheen of sweat
beginning to break out on her skin. How bad could it be? After all, even as mad as Jeff
had been with her over the last few months he would not allow them to hurt her, would he?
Master Dusk’s voice cuts into her thoughts. “In short, Grace, the staff here will be
addressed by you as Master or Mistress. You will for all purposes be a complete and total
slave, here to serve, to learn, and be used in any way imaginable and in many more ways
that you can’t imagine. There is no get out clause in your contract, no loophole; it is
binding, for 30 days, with your husband’s consent you will belong to the Lair. Do you
understand?” He looks at both of them, gauging their reaction as he waits upon their final
decision; after all it wouldn’t be the first time a couple had taken flight from his study
in sheer terror.
Grace squirms, looking to Jeff her eyes bright with unshed tears, silently pleading with
him to take her away from this place. Gently he reaches over and touches her cheek.
“Nothing comes easy, Grace, but I expect you to give your all to this, no half measures,
it’s all or nothing, and to be returned to me a new creature. One we will both be proud
of.”
A tear escapes and rolls down her cheek as she meekly murmurs a barely audible, “yes,”
and looks away. Jeff removes his hand from her soft cheek knowing that her tears are out
of self pity rather than any true remorse for her recent behaviour. Grace is also acutely
aware that she has given him some major headaches in the past but even in her present
predicament she still can’t help but stubbornly think that it is partly Jeff’s fault too
that she has turned into the person she has become. After all he helped change her into a
very spoiled woman with all the riches, power and high living that came into her life
along with him. To Grace, it feels as if he is delivering her to a jailer, punishing her
as though it was a crime to be a bitch sometimes. The thought wells up in Grace’s mind
before she can push it away; it feels like he is delivering her body and soul into the
hands of the very devil himself and into the fires of Hell.
Master Dusk holds out a pen.
“Are we ready to sign yet?”
Jeff accepts the pen and quickly signs, too quickly Grace thinks as he hands her the pen.
She looks beseechingly to both of them, takes an extremely deep breath that visibly causes
her chest to rise and fall, and scribbles a barely legible signature her hands are
trembling so much. She thrusts the papers back towards Master Dusk as if in a hurry to be
rid of them, lest she should change her mind and rip it to pieces.
Master Dusk rises from his chair, and quickly locks the contracts away in a file
cabinet. “On your knees, slave!” He stands stock still, unmoving in front of a confused
Grace. She jerks her head to the side, staring at Jeff in disbelief, sure her ears are
deceiving her, but in the same instant Master Dusk takes firm hold of her chin, forcing
her face back to him. “He is no longer your focus, slave, your only focus now is to do as
you are told, and it would serve you better to do it well.” The cruel tone of his voice
leaves Grace in no mistake that if need be he would force his choice on her if she pushes
it. She slides nervously from her chair to her knees, the unaccustomed action making her
uncharacteristically clumsy.
“The first thing we are going to do for your husband Grace, is to strip away everything
that you think is proper, so that we have a new and empty vessel to mould and shape for
him. But understand that in as much as you will surely profit from your transformation,
ultimately everything we are doing is for your husband, your Master. It is no longer about
the spoiled, little bitch you have become.”
Grace steals another glance at Jeff from her kneeling position on the floor, fuming
inwardly at the wicked grin on his face. Her attention snaps back to Master Dusk as she
realises he is still speaking.
“To begin with your name as you now know it will be replaced with a slave name and your
husband has already done you the honour of choosing it. You will now be known as Destiny.
Very apt on this occasion, wouldn’t you agree?” Without waiting for an answer, he
continues, “your name will be changed legally and you will never again answer to Grace.”
He pauses for a moment, allowing all that he has said sink in, “Thank Master Jeff for your
new name slave!”
Taken by surprise at the callous tone, the slow realisation begins to dawn on Grace that
her husband must have had more interaction with this vile place and this man than she had
originally guessed. She jerks her head up from her submissive pose looking first from
Master Dusk to her husband and back again, all the while spitting and hissing curses like
a snarling wildcat, eyes flashing with temper, when this time Master Dusk grabs a fistful
of her perfectly styled hair, causing her head to snap back painfully. “You’ve just earned
yourself your first punishment, bitch!”
Grace yells as much in shock and indignation as in pain, “What the hell??” and tries to
jerk away from him, but only succeeds in causing herself more pain when Master Dusk’s grip
holds fast, her hair tightly coiled around his fist. “Jeff!!” It is a demand for action,
but to her complete irritation, Jeff remains motionless. “You can’t treat me like this!!
Jeff, do something!!” Grace’s tone becomes more demanding, even threatening.
“On your feet, slave!” Master Dusk leaves Grace no choice in the matter. She is quite
sure he would happily rip her damn hair out by its roots if she doesn’t follow his lead.
Her heart is now pounding in sheer fear. Just how her supposedly loving husband could
calmly sit there and allow this was way beyond her. Suddenly through her anger she
realises with a start Jeff looks like he is enjoying it all immensely! In one swift, well
executed move, Master Dusk has strapped her wrists together behind her back, ignoring the
steady stream of curses and pleadings that fall upon the deaf ears of her silent husband.
Grace stands as still as a statue, more out of shock than any form of obedience, as he
replaces the exquisite and expensive diamond and ruby pendant hanging around her neck with
an uncomfortable black leather collar, and attaches a four foot chained leash to the
D-ring at the front of it. A strong tug on the leash forces Grace to follow him around the
chairs to a padded railing at the back of the study.
How the hell could she have failed to notice this? Grace tries to pull against the
chain, crying out in sudden panic, “Jeff!! Please stop this insanity! Godammit! Jeff! Have
you taken leave of your senses?”
She is instantly silenced by Master Dusk’s stern voice booming out, “That’s more than
enough from you, slave!” as he jerks roughly on the chain, pulling her across the railing,
his large hand on the small of her back forcing her to bend over as he attaches the leash
to a hook in the floor. Jeff smiles to himself; he couldn’t deny thoroughly enjoying
watching his wife’s squirming ass as she fights against the inevitable. Grace’s short,
black designer skirt rides higher up, exposing more and more of the creamy, firm flesh of
her thighs with every kick and scream. As much as he would have liked to have stepped up
and taken over from Master Dusk, he was also taking great pleasure in watching his wife
finally get what she had so richly long deserved.
Tears of defeat course down Grace’s cheeks, running in little mascara streaked rivulets,
as each of her ankles are fitted with matching leather cuffs and attached to the leg rail.
She makes a half hearted attempt to struggle against the restraints but knows it is
useless; Master Dusk has her well secured. Jeff adjusts his position to get a better view
of his wife’s first punishment. His already hard shaft throbbing painfully as his ears are
treated to Grace’s frantic squeals as Master Dusk unceremoniously tosses her skirt up and
over her back while jerking her black silk panties down to her knees. He pulls a sharp
knife from his pocket and quickly relieves her of them, slicing through the flimsy
material.
“You will have no need for these again, or indeed, in the future!” Grace’s perfectly
formed ass cheeks shake from side to side, as she fights against the chains, pleading with
both men to stop. Master Dusk wrenches her head up. “Slave, did you not understand what
you signed? You belong to me now. Everything you are and will become is mine to do with as
I see fit, and mould as I want.” He proceeds to strip a thick leather belt from his jeans
with an evil hiss, folding it up in front of Grace’s wide terrified eyes. “You disobeyed a
direct order, slave. It is my responsibility and my pleasure to punish you accordingly.”
She shakes her head wildly, her hair whipping her tear streaked face, Grace yet again
pleads uselessly with her husband. “Jeff! Stop this!” before looking over again at Master
Dusk. Please! Disobeyed what? I didn’t understand! I don’t understand! You can’t do this
to me!!”
“I not only can, slave, but I will and my best guess is that I will have the pleasure of
doing it often!” Grace’s screams suddenly fill the room and more than likely echo
throughout the Lair as Master Dusk swings in slow cadence. One well aimed blow after the
other lands on Grace’s bare exposed ass. The symphony of his wife’s screams and the
resounding, rhythmic cracks of leather hitting her tender flesh have Jeff’s hand brushing
over the growing bulge in his jeans, leaving him in no doubt that he has just made the
best decision of his life.
He watches the seductive dance of the belt; and as Grace’s quivering cheeks turn from a
dark shade of pink to burgundy welts before his very eyes. Master Dusk expertly wields it,
time and time again, each blow landing an inch beneath the previous one. After the first
ten raised welts are painted across each cheek, Master Dusk breaks for a moment, returning
to stand in front of Grace’s hanging head. “Are you now ready to obey your Master, slave?”
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