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This is the 5th part of a 12 part tale of a Lady and her stable of slaves
5. Writer’s Block
Over the next month Deanna seemed noticeably more distracted and detached. She had not bound Thomas once in that time, nor had she taken any opportunity to chastize Michael for any inadequacies, real or manufactured. There were no special dinner demands for Abel or extra chores for Belle. She had not even indulged in any of her usually much relished body massages, manicures or pedicures performed by Edward. And most distressing to them all, none had been summoned for any more intimate services.
She recognized her increasing irritability, and though she tried to remain civil most of the time she found herself being curt and even cutting more and more often. She didn’t feel particularly guilty about these occasional outbursts. Slaves had to accept any mood of their owner. It was just that she didn’t like being that type of person.
She blamed most of her current malaise on the difficulties she was having writing her most recent novel. She was substantially behind schedule with it and had changed its direction and tone a number of times, and was now bogged down trying to decide how to further proceed. Her first three books had been huge successes. Although they had all followed the tried and true romantic novel formula of lovers having to suffer through all manner of trials and tribulations before finally being happily united in the end, her eclectic and jaunty style, and incisive and sharp edged characterizations all gave a very fresh patina to this old coda, and large numbers of readers of the genre obviously appreciated and flocked to them. There were still traditional expectations to be met however, and when in her most recently published book she had her main male protagonist die at the end in very unseemly circumstances, despite several literary critics applauding her departure from the norm, many of her fans were dismayed and the novel was not selling anywhere near as well as her previous ones.
Her latest venture was veering even more radically away from the standard. It might be acceptable and even somewhat endearing to have one half of a romantic relationship be a lovable rogue. It was quite something else for him to be of clearly questionable character. Though she certainly didn’t want or tolerate Edward or Michael to be toadies when analyzing and helping with her professional work, when they pointed out these problems after reading the early outlines and drafts, she found herself making the character even more despicable. Even she began to realize that she was going beyond being provocative and her character was becoming unpalatable, and the story just wasn’t working. Yet try as she did, she just couldn’t seem to make him any more sympathetic or less unsavory. Short of starting all over with a completely different project, which she most definitely did not want to do, this was the character she wanted to develop and explore, along with the doomed heroine who loved him. She just had to find a way to make this story soar.
This was proving much harder than she could have ever imagined. She was spending far too many work days of late staring at a blank computer screen, or deleting the small amount of words she was actually producing. Her frustration was growing, and with it her impatience and temper. One morning, after eating hardly any breakfast, unusual for her, she went to her office to work and after an hour not one new idea or word came to mind. She wanted to scream. Something had to change. She needed a break, something to take the edge off her anger. She buzzed Edward on the intercom to come.
“I’m taking the rest of the day off, Edward.” she said to him when he entered. “I’m going to work out first and then I want a full spa treatment.”
“Very good, My Lady” he replied, a smile brightening his face as he was becoming very concerned about her.
Deanna went back into her bedroom and changed into her work out clothes; shorts, a tee shirt, socks and running shoes. She pulled her hair back into a pony tail with a scrungie and then marched into her small gym. She started out with a number of stretching exercises and followed that up over the next half hour using a variety of different free weights for her arms and legs, with Edward spotting for her when necessary. She finished up with a vigorous 45 minute run on the treadmill, tracking over six miles in that time and working up quite a sweat, while expending at least a fair portion of the nervous tension that had been building up.
Edward had been standing in the back of the room for most of her run in case he was needed. Near its end though he went into her master bathroom to make sure that her Jacuzzi bathtub was filled and ready. When she finished she joined him in the bedroom. As she sat on the side of her bed he hurried over to go down on his knees to first take off her shoes, and then her sweaty socks. He immediately began to massage her moist and tired feet.
“I hope you had a good work out, My Lady.” he said as he kneaded.
“Yes, I needed that.” she replied. “A few more minutes of this, and then I want to get into the whirlpool.”
“It’s ready and waiting for you, My Lady.”
“Good.”
After five more minutes of Edward’s soothing ministrations, Deanna stood up. He helped her out of her shorts and panties, and then her tee shirt and sports bra. She removed the scrungie by herself, letting her hair fall below her shoulders, and then made her way fully naked into her bathroom with Edward right behind. He slipped past her to turn on the Jacuzzi, and then helped her to step in. She settled sown with a sigh as the hot jetted waters swirled around her.
‘A cold drink, Edward.” she bid after several minutes.
“Right away, My Lady.” He stepped to the intercom, called and instructed Belle to bring up a large glass of lemonade. He met her at the bedroom door when it was brought up minutes later, taking it from her to bring into the Lady. Deanna drank half immediately, and then sipped down the rest over the next ten minutes as she continued to relax in the bubbling water. When finished she ordered Edward to turn off the whirlpool.
“Wash me.” was her next decree after it was off. Edward took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. From the cabinet nearby he took out her scented bath gel and a loofa. He knelt down by the side of the tub as she lifted one of her legs out of the water. With his hands he applied the gel up and down her leg, dipping them into the water to get to every part. He then gently scrubbed with the loofa, starting with her foot and going down her entire leg to her hip. When that was complete she lowered her leg back into the water and raised the other one out. He repeated the entire process with that foot and leg, but this time when he reached her groin he rubbed the loofa between her legs to cleanse that area as well, eliciting another sigh and a smile from her as he did so.
Pouring a more generous amount of gel onto the loofa he then softly scrubbed his way up her belly with it, then to and around each breast. After he finished with the front of her neck and shoulders she leaned forward so he could continue on with her back. Once this was done he handed her a small wash cloth with some facial soap so that she could cleanse her own face.
With her permission he used a connected spray nozzle to rinse her off thoroughly, and then with her head held back he dampened her hair. Setting that aside he applied a large amount of conditioner to her hair and rubbed it in vigorously. After rinsing that out he did the same with her shampoo, rinsing even longer after that to make sure all of the shampoo was removed he then helped her up and out of the tub, holding an overlarge bath towel for her while handing her a smaller one.
As she used this latter one to dry her face and hair he, starting at her shoulders, began to pat her dry, working his way quickly but thoroughly down her torso, to her pelvis and buttocks and between her legs, and then down each leg to both of her feet which he then helped her place into bath slippers. Standing up again he reached for her robe which he assisted her to don.
Deanna made her way back into the bedroom to sit in front of her vanity table. Edward retrieved a hair blower and began to blow dry her hair. Once fully dry he spent the next twenty minutes combing and brushing it out as she watched with pleasure in the mirror his diligent efforts behind her. When she finally deemed these efforts sufficient and satisfactory she directed him to get her manicure and pedicure kit.
As he returned with it from the closet he found her settled into her recliner next to the vanity. He knelt down on one side of it, taking out the necessary equipment and laying it out on the table. She offered her first hand to him.
While this had become one of his regular responsibilities she had not had him do so in some time, so her nails were not as pristine as she usually demanded. Using acetone on cotton pads he carefully removed all of the old polish. He cut away any cuticles he discovered and followed that by filing each of her nails. He then applied the new polish she had selected, a crimson red, and as he completed that hand and she laid it on the armrest to dry, he scurried around to the other side of the chair to perform the same service to her other hand.
Throughout these efforts Deanna carried on a chatty conversation with him, it proceeding comfortably almost as if between equals. She inquired about events in the household to which she had of late not been paying as much attention as she should. She sought Edward’s opinion about how each of her other slaves were doing in the performance of their duties, and then how he thought the manor was functioning overall. As he knew that she expected and demanded, he was very forthcoming and honest in his answers and assessments, being truthfully complimentary about the other slaves and their conduct, but she sensed a bit of reticence in him about her last question. She also had a certain reluctance at that moment to delve too deeply into that issue herself however, so as he finished with her second hand she reached over to put on earphones to her IPOD, leaned back in the recliner which brought her legs up as well, and as he repositioned himself on his knees at the end she turned on some soft music to listen to and further unwind, as Edward proceeded to attend to her toes.
If anything he was even more diligent with her pedicure. After removing all of the worn polish he carefully clipped and filed each toenail. Then after placing cotton balls between each toe he meticulously painted each nail making certain that no polish strayed onto her surrounding skin. Once all ten toes were refinished and resplendent, and knowing that she found it enjoyable, he began to softly blow on them to help them dry. He was rewarded as she languidly flexed and extended her toes as he did so.
Even after they had fully dried Deanna continued to lay back listening to her music as Edward waited patiently on his knees at her feet. Eventually she sighed and stretched, sitting up in the recliner, then arose and walked to her bed. She had Edward remove her robe and once off she lay down prone and naked on the bed.
“A massage, Edward.” she murmured, unnecessarily as he already knew what her next pleasure would be.
He had studied a variety of different massage techniques on the web and had become quite adept in a number of them. It had become one of his most desirable, and desired, services to his Lady. Picking up a bottle of lavender scented body lotion he decanted a liberal amount into his hands, rubbed them together to warm it, and then began the process by kneading it firmly into the back of her neck and shoulders. His fingers, then knuckles, then base of his palms probed slowly and deeply in circles along her upper back, pausing only at times for more lotion. They worked their way down to the small of her back and her sides, his thumbs and even elbows digging in as her muscles throughout unclenched and untensed. He found his way to her buttocks on which he payed extensive attention before moving down the backs of her thighs, spending time in the hollows of her knees before firmly massaging both of her calves. He finally arrived at the bottoms of her feet after she had raised her lower legs up at an angle from her knees so that he could work out any remaining tightness from her arches, balls and toes. When she finally, contentedly, lowered her feet back down he sprinkled a bit more lotion onto his hands and returned for some finishing touches and strokings to her upper back, neck, and shoulders. He only stopped when she raised her hand for him to do so, and he then stood up and away as she slowly rolled to her side, and eventually sat up to regard him.
For the first time in weeks she felt absolutely wonderful. But there was still just that little bit of tension within that cried to be worked out. And she knew just how to do it, which she also knew would serve some of Edward’s needs as well.
“Pull down your pants, Edward” she purred.
With perhaps just a bit of seeming reluctance he slowly complied, and when both his pants and underpants were down around his ankles his manhood was revealed, encased as always in a plastic chastity cage. Early on in his service Edward had shamefully confessed to his Lady that he was unable to cease playing with himself when alone, and had even had a number of unauthorized emissions. After being suitably punished for those, for his better control the Lady had then demanded that he purchase and wear the chastity devise at all times. It only came off once a week under her close supervision so that it and he could be cleaned, and for some other occasions, which came more frequently for Edward that any of the others, when he was allowed permitted release and relief. Deanna kept the key in the drawer in her bed stand and Edward knew it was there, but she knew that he would never seek to use it by himself except for the most dire of emergencies. He was the only one of her slaves who had need of, and wore such a device.
“That was as delightful as always, Edward.” she continued on to him smiling, as he stood there somewhat comically so exposed.
“Thank you, My Lady.” he replied in sincere appreciation.
Her eyes narrowed. “But there have been some other areas where your service has not been quite up to standard.”
He bowed his head.
“And I think I’ve neglected to address these most recent failings for far too long.”
Beyond his overwhelming craving to be a service slave, Edward did have one other significant kink ... a strong desire for discipline, a need to be punished for any perceived transgressions on his part. And the Lady occasionally deigned to meet that need, when she herself felt the urge.
“Get over my knee, Edward.” came the command.
Humbly shuffling forward, Edward positioned himself over her bare lap, keeping most of his weight on his bent elbows and knees, his butt arched upward and inviting, over her legs. After some very long and for him tense moments of anticipation, her beautifully manicured hand slashed down with the first stinging spank. This was followed in rapid succession by several more. A brief pause, and then a steady stream of staccato strokes, carried out in silence except for the sharp swats that seemed to go on and on until Edward’s backside became a very interesting shade of red. This became even more vividly crimson after a few more resounding smacks reaching a fiery crescendo.
But Deanna’s arm grew tired and her palm had its own sting, so she ceased and nudged him off her lap and onto his knees before her. As he lifted his eyes up she gazed down at him and slowly raised her foot off the floor extending it toward him to allow him the precious opportunity to express his gratitude. His behind still bristling he bent forward and down, placing trembling lips on the top of her foot, and with a slight catch in his voice, offered,
“Thank you My Lady for providing the correction I so desperately need.”
She smiled as he knelt back up after paying his homage. There was now something else that she felt he had been without for too long. She reached over to her night stand, opened the drawer, and took out the chain with his key. Seeing this, Edward realized what she meant to do, but he also knew that this had always before only been offered after she had been fully sated and satisfied herself. He could not allow this to be.
“My Lady ... please ... no.” he implored.
She frowned. “What do you mean Edward?” she responded, confused.
He had been trying to determine for some time how to confront the issue with her, and he decided to now risk the attempt.
“It’s just that I ... that all of us ... have noted that for too long you have not summoned any of us for your own ... intimate pleasure.”
Her eyes darkened. “That is none of your concern.”
“Of course not, My Lady.” He paused, and then plowed ahead. “But unless you insist and I am forced to obey, I do not wish to have my own relief without you having had your own pleasure. And if you do so insist, it will be without any enjoyment for me. Please, My Lady”
Oh Edward, she thought keenly. Good, kind, caring, steadfast Edward. Her slave, but even more so her friend. She looked away and then back, a hint of moisture in her eyes.. She felt that she had to try to respond.
“It’s the writing, I think.” she attempted to explain. “It seems to be dragging me down. I just can’t seem to find my voice or direction with it anymore.”
“If you forgive me, My Lady,” he continued after letting that linger a moment, “but I think it’s somewhat more than that.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, now even more confused.
“I think that your difficulties with your writing may be due to something other. Something else that might be missing.”
“Just what are you suggesting?”
And he really didn’t know. Just that she needed a change, something different, some new spark. Things may have been becoming too staid, even stale.
“Maybe a new challenge, something new to stimulate and excite, to help bring back your joie-de-vie.” He wasn’t sure that this was the answer. He wasn’t even sure that he liked the answer. But his Lady’s needs and happiness had to come first, so he ventured ahead. “Perhaps a new slave.” he offered carefully. “It’s been almost a year since your last. But this time not one to fit the needs of the manor, but one solely for you, to form and shape however you want, into whatever you need. To help rekindle your joy and creativity in everything.”
A heavy silence hung over them for so long that Edward feared that he had overstepped his bounds.
“A new slave.” she finally mused aloud. One that wouldn’t be for the manor, but solely for her. One that wouldn’t come with any predetermined passions except to want to be molded by her, in her own time and fashion, into what she most wanted and needed him to be. Whatever she ever found that to be. One who would serve no other purpose. Is that what was missing as Edward had implied? She felt an unexpected pang of desire. Maybe he was right.
She reached to her side to pick up her robe and draped it over her shoulders to cover herself, and beckoned Edward to stand and pull up his pants.
“I think that is a very interesting and nice idea,” she admitted to him after he had done so. “But he would have to be selected very carefully. No excess baggage. Just an intense desire to become what I most want and need.”
“I understand, My Lady.”
She nodded and decided.
“Begin a search then, Edward.” she resolved.
He bowed his head, with a small, relieved smile.
“As you will, My Lady.”