Chapter 1

 

When Preston opened the door of his B & B to Eugenie Allard he was bowled over by her stunning looks but kept his face expressionless. The photographs he'd seen hadn't done her full justice.

She stood on his doorstep with her backpack, looking wide-eyed and innocent, a tall eighteen year old white girl (probably around five foot ten) on the cusp of full woman hood though her face still retained some puppy roundness which smoothed out her cheek bones. Her lips were so full (luscious was the word he used to himself) Preston immediately imagined her giving him a blow job. She had corn coloured hair tied in a long ponytail and threaded through an orange baseball cap. She was wearing an orange polo shirt with a dark sweater and very short pink shorts. Her legs were both sturdy and shapely; the sort of legs that a girl likes to show off if the weather is even half good enough for shorts.

Her entire body was both strong looking and elegant; trim but not too skinny; good tits. Her fair skin was slightly tanned and clear apart from a few spots just below her hairline, residual teenage acne, and freckles on her cute little nose and just above her top lip.

He imagined stroking those smooth white thighs. He could see the down of soft blonde hairs even from where he stood. Her shorts were tight round her crotch with a slight indication of her mound.

She would be the only white girl in the place. How would she feel about that?

The guy on the front desk was a Somali. He'd be driving a cab later in the day. All the guests were African and Asian men. The prostitute Janay who occupied a room on the first landing was Caribbean.

'Hi.' She smiled and showed perfect white teeth.

She'd travelled from the airport on the train and he could imagine how many heads she must have turned on the journey. He had an erection already. It was hot in London and he was wearing long cotton shorts; he knew she would be able to see his bulge if she glanced down. He willed her to take a look.

'Come in.'

Seeing the place through her eyes it looked dark and definitely sleazy, crying out for money to be spent starting with some basic maintenance followed by the painters and decorators.

She looked surprised to see Miguel and Okwe coming downstairs but she kept on smiling.

Preston took the backpack (like he was a gentleman) and stood very close to Eugenie- near enough to smell her. She'd been travelling for hours but there was only a slight whiff of sweat- not stale- and a heady mix of other things: her shower gel, her shampoo, hairspray, her make-up (she didn't look to be wearing any). He couldn't analyse it but it all added up to a young white girl smell that made him horny- that indefinable difference about the smell of white women. His cock climbed higher. He liked to fuck white women. He liked them to be obedient and compliant though he didn't mind girls with a little fight in them.

She'd taken off her cap and let her long blonde hair tumble loose. It was long enough to cover her chest. He imagined her soft hair spread over her naked white breasts.

He took her backpack and led her through the hall and down the step into the kitchen.

There were dishes piled high in the sink and clutter everywhere.

He followed her eyes to the unwashed crockery. 'We've just finished breakfast.'

'OK.' The smile remained.

'You're Eugenie? But you like to be called Genie.'

'I don't mind Mr Preston. I'm looking forward to meeting your wife,' she said rather too quickly.

'No wife,' he said.

'Sorry, partner.'

'No partner.'

The smile faded quickly and her eyes were instantly full of fear.

'It was easier to give that impression.'

'But you have two children...have they gone to nursery?'

'You're not here to look after children. You're here to work.'

'I expect to work but I am an au pair. You said you had kids.'

'All part of the story. You should be pleased I wanted you. There were plenty of others. I liked your messages and your pictures.'

'I'm sorry I will have to go.' She blushed.

She looked round and made a move for the door but Preston got there first.

'You can't keep me here,' she said, panic creeping into her voice.

'What are you going to do? Fly straight back to Canada? Can you afford to? We best have your passport and cards and everything on the table along with your cell phone.' Preston moved towards her holding out his hand.

'No, please.' Tears began to flow.

'Do what I say and quickly.'

'Just let me go now and I won't say anything.'

'You won't be saying anything to anyone,' he said. 'You'll learn to speak when you're spoken to.'

Preston twisted Genie's arm behind her back as he took her upstairs. On the landing an Indian called Patel came out of his room.

'Please help me,' Genie said. 'I'm being held against my will.'

Patel simply shrugged his shoulders and set off down the stairs.

Preston slapped the girl's face. 'They're all illegal immigrants. They mind their own business. Even if they understand what you're saying they won't get involved.'

On the upper landing he opened a bedroom door and pushed her inside. The bedroom was large with a high ceiling and appropriate coving, nicely decorated and comfortably furnished with king-size bed and built- in wardrobes on one side. There was a smart en suite. It was a huge contrast to what she'd seen of the rest of the house.

Preston opened a cupboard, moved a few clothes on hangers, and exposed a sliding door in the back which was padlocked. He unlocked it, and pushed Genie to the back of the cupboard to peep through, after switching on a light consisting of a single bulb without a shade. It was little more than a recess with sloping ceiling, windowless (though the light switch must have turned on a fan as well) and with nothing in it except for a steel cage with mattress and a bucket.

'That's where you go if you don't behave,' he said with a mirthless smile. 'My last slave spent a lot of time in there.'

There was just enough room for the cage but clearly it was necessary to crawl on hands and knees to get to it, no-one could stand upright. She couldn't imagine being able to use the bucket in that confined space- if it was there as a toilet as she thought.

'Please, I couldn't live there.'

'Then you better learn quickly. This is the Ritz compared with some of the places these guys sleep in,' said Preston waving his hand to indicate his guests. 'A lot of their kind live in garden sheds and garages, packed in like sardines.'

'Please, I'll do anything. I'll arrange for my mother to send you money, as much as you ask.'

'She must be very rich,' said Preston, 'but Croesus himself wouldn't have enough. You should be flattered- a girl beyond price!'

'I beg you Mr Preston, let me go and I'll see she gives you what you want.'

'You don't know how ironic that is,' he said. 'You need to call me master. Is that clear?'

'Yes. Yes master.'

'And your slave name? What is French for whore?'

'Chatte, master.'

'You answer to Chatte from now on.'

'Yes master.'

'I need to show you something else to concentrate your mind,' he said.

There was a chest in the bedroom and he opened the lid, pulling Genie over by her arm to take a look inside.

She saw a store of canes, paddles, leather straps, cuffs, whips and assorted restraints. He took a bamboo cane out and practised air shots in front of her, inches from her body.

'I won't hesitate to use it,' he told her. 'Now strip and let me take a look at what I've got.'

Genie was crying again. She made no move to undress.

'Let me give you some advice Chatte. Learn to be obedient and submissive and you'll come to far less harm. Tears cut no ice. Accept you're white trash to be used as I see fit. Understand?'

'Va te faire foutre, troudoc,' she mumbled with an innocent expression.

'I don't think that was very complimentary was it? If I think you're being insulting...' He slapped her hard across the other side of her face and made her ear ring.

The slap brought heart-rending sobs but she pulled her sweater over her head, followed by her shirt. He held out his hand and she gave him each garment in turn. She bent over in her little pink bra and shorts to unlace her trainers.

'And the rest,' he said. 'No need to be coy Chatte.'

'Could I keep my underwear on please?'

'No chance. Any don't forget how to address me.'

Genie took down her shorts and stepped out of them. Her tiny pink panties hardly covered anything and Preston could see the outline of her mound and her vulva.

She unclasped her bra and handed it over.

She had pert tits with prominent coral coloured nipples in the classic shape copied for bottle teats. Preston felt his cock harden to full erection.

'Thong,' he said, 'you need to speed up.'

She slid her panties down over her smooth thighs and calves, stepped out of them showing an untrimmed dirty blonde bush, and gave them to him with eyes averted. He sniffed them and murmured with exaggerated pleasure.

'Put your hands on your head. Let me get a proper look. Pose for me.'

Genie stood awkwardly trying to strike a pose of some kind. She looked like a very incompetent young model on her first shoot trying to look sexy.

'Turn round girl. Let me see your arse.'

When she obeyed, he ran his hands over both plump cheeks. She had a big bum out of proportion to the rest of her. He slapped her butt. 'I like a nice ripe arse,' he said.

Preston picked up his I-pad and took pictures of her standing naked, front and rear views.

'Now put these on.' He handed her a pair of faded and tattered overalls, indigo denim, with stains of various colours down the front. She soon discovered the bib hung too low and was too small to cover her boobs entirely; in any case her tits were very visible from side view; the legs were cut down to shorts with frayed hems. She had to go bare-legged and barefoot.

'Tie your hair up,' he told her and handed her a few elastic bands. 'You need to keep your hair out of the food when you're cooking otherwise we'll have to cut it off. These are your working clothes, otherwise you go naked.'

Suddenly he pulled his shorts down to show his massive erection. His helmet was empurpled and veins stood out down the length of his long brown shaft. He was pleased to hear a sharp intake of breath from Genie and a look of shock on her pretty face. He took her hand and opened her fingers round the shaft.

'I bet you'd love to give me a blow job right now but you'll have to wait. You've got work to do.'