Her Coordinator

by Walt A.K.A. Xan

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2020 - Walt A.K.A. Xan - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; bond; slave; sex; cons; X

Disclaimer: This novel is intended for adults only. No one under the age of 18 years old should read or be offered this material. This is meant to entertain adults with specific tastes within the BDSM lifestyle. Any similarities to any persons, living or dead is purely coincidental and the personalities, habits, actions and predilections of my fictitious characters are not intended to represent the habits, rituals, or personalities of any real person. This is a fictional story, with characters coming from my imagination, only, regardless of any stated similarities to any persons living or dead.

Continues from

Part 28: The Party Preparations

At the barbeque,

May fields everyone’s questions,

charming one and all.

Someone once said, “If ya’ didn’t come to wash your face in BBQ sauce then you shouldn’t have come to the barbeque.” The shower after the demo was not going to be enough after they all sat down to dinner. May waited, kneeling by his chair with her wrists crossed and tied behind her back, for Duke to feed her, and he was none too graceful when it came to feeding her ribs. May’s laughter ignited the crowd and seeing her in nothing but a black fishnet body stocking, pink vinyl corset, crotch-rope, a pink plastic bib and matching six-inch pink pumps did nothing to dissuade their fascination with her. Many of the members stood around with paper plates piled high just so they could stare at May and dream. Three had already approached Duke to try and buy May. He thanked them for the compliment but told them firmly that the 8 digits, in cold hard cash that he would charge to find and train one up just like May, would probably stretch their cash flow. He told them very graciously that May was not for sale at any price, but that turning out women like May wasn’t hard with the right touch. He laughed, saying that he personally knew of at least a hundred guys that could do it.

For the rest of the afternoon, between bites of ribs drenched in their local sauce, Duke told them some of his methodologies for training slaves and between mouthfuls, May told them what she enjoyed about being a slave. To no one’s surprise, the members divided up into two camps, each fascinated by the guest they most identified with. A few exceptions to this rule were the newly coupled who only had eyes for each other and those hanging on the fencepost, like Cin. 

At first, she was bothered because she couldn’t really understand her confusion and the agitation that caused her mind to wander and her body to fidget and be on edge. She was frustratingly unable to calm down. She also found herself frequently glancing over at Stony and suddenly looking away when he caught her eye. When she’d look up and see that he was still staring at her, she couldn’t find something else to do soon enough. Men would try to wait on her, bringing her food and drink but she’d shoo them away without a passing nod. As the realization came to her that she was having thoughts of submitting to this tall lanky man, she slipped away quietly and drove home to sort through her thoughts. Maybe this was the man that could dominate her. Maybe she could find someone stronger than she was that wasn’t either a horndog or a bully.

At home, Cin raced around trying to do too many things at once and getting nothing accomplished. She quickly shed her black knit sheath dress and ran around her apartment in her slip trying to find just the right outfit for that evening. Cin wanted to be noticed, to assert her dominion over those who normally fawned over her at the club, and to outshine everyone’s new heartthrob. She knew that was going to be tough. For a moment she almost decided to stay at home until the visitors left, but her thoughts kept going back to that tall man. What was his name? Stony, Stonewall, as in Stonewall Jackson? Well, he certainly was handsome, in a rugged looking way. His touch was strong, like iron, yet he had not hurt her. She had felt like a captured bird when he imprisoned her hand. If he could make her feel like that by just holding her hand against his arm, what would he be able to do to her if he held her whole body in that iron embrace? Dulcinea shivered at the thought of being held helpless in his arms. She wondered what it would be like to ---. 

Snapping out of her daydream, she noticed that over a half of an hour had passed and that shocked her. Finding that she was damp between her legs seemed even more shocking. It had certainly been a long time since any man had made her feel this way. Running into the shower, she quickly lathered up and noticed how sensitive her skin was after thinking about this strange, new man. She wondered how he’d gotten those scars on his face. They weren’t bad and they certainly didn’t detract from his face, but those scars were the sign of a hard and probably a very interesting life. Now her curiosity was piqued. Knowing that he was transient to the club, she tried to push him out of her mind. He couldn’t be that good.

Forcing herself to think about her boys that would have to be sessioned that night, she started running the list through her mind. Mickey had just had a birthday and he would need his spankings. Mickey was an older and seriously overweight man, but a kind and gentle soul that probably couldn’t get laid after paying a prostitute. There was no getting around spanking him though. His emotional wellbeing was directly tied to her empathy for his predicament. Howard, the drooling horndog car salesman wanted attention and had just given her that tennis bracelet last week. She’d have to flog him at least, even though he really wanted his back shaved and waxed before the flogging. Delilah was her pre-op trans-gender, saving up for her operation. Pumped up on hormones and after getting some plastic surgery, Stephan/Delilah was living her life as a woman. She could tie Delilah up and just leave her in a corner somewhere for the dweebs to grope up. Like all the times she’d done it to her in the past, Delilah would get off on the humiliation. Maybe she’d find something Delilah had done wrong and then as punishment, she wouldn’t have to touch her at all. She’d see when she got there. And then there was Joey. Joey was a young and eager boy just barely 21, that was just head over heels in lust with her and would do anything he was told to do. He’d been calling her all week and pleading for her to cane his bottom so he could try out his new ball-gag, which was supposed to be huge.

As a tear rolled down her cheek, Cin admitted the obvious to herself that it really wasn’t any fun anymore. All of her submissives together didn’t make her feel half as excited as this one stranger did and he was a dominant! Damn it. Her phone rang just then, and the caller ID said it was Robert. She ignored his call. Realizing that there were some others that would be demanding attention too, it just seemed to be too much for her and almost ludicrous to act the role of a dominant and service them when they claimed to submit to her. She was at best a Top, working on a bunch of needy, whining, demanding bottoms. She wanted to be cherished, and ravished, and made love to, so hard she didn’t even know her own name. Her thoughts kept returning to that tall, thin man with the strength of corded steel. She could feel that he was more than a Top and wondered how many women he had waiting for him at home. A man like that would never be alone. She was sure that the single submissives, and most likely several of the married submissives in the club were clawing their way to the front of the line in hopes of playing with him. She wondered if he would choose one to play with tonight. Continuing in that line of thought, would he ever choose her if she made her body available to him? Was she pretty enough for a man of his sophistication? Could she ever make a man like that happy? Could she take what he’d do to her during a session? Would he be loving or brutal or both? Oh, the thoughts she had.

After her shower, she put on a black demi-cup bra and matching bikini panties from Victoria’s Secret, and then a black pair of pantyhose. Squeezing into her black vinyl cat-suit, zipping up the cuffs so they were fitted snugly around her wrists and ankles and then adjusting the front zipper, and her boobs, so that just the right amount of cleavage was showing, she gazed at herself in her door-mirror. After doing her hair and make-up, Cin slid into a pair of over-the-knee boots that sported a one-inch chunky heel, which was just enough to hold her spurs on. Cin thought that her rounded spurs were just the right touch to prove to everyone that she was in command of those around her. They did make her feel more powerful. Cin had a matching vinyl collar that velcroed on but she’d wait until she was in the parking lot of the club to put that on. The final touches were her Burberry raincoat and driving gloves. She picked up her clutch bag and headed out to go back to the party.

Back at Ashley’s Farm, Duke and May cleaned up in Ashley’s farmhouse home. They took a shower together and made slow love under the warm soapy water. With a hand under each of her butt cheeks to hold her up, Duke slid in and out of her as she molested his ears with her lips and tongue. Duke’s touch on her sensitized skin made her writhe under the stinging drops of water spraying over them. She loved it whenever he did a Harlequin on her. It made her want to come over and over again from just his slightest touch. What it did to her body with his large hands roaming across her soap-slick skin as they made love, combined with that deep, rich, very masculine voice of his telling her how he enjoyed owning her and just what her service did to make him a happy man drove her to ecstasy. Submitting to a man like Duke was like breathing air, and just as necessary to her overall health. As his lips trailed electricity along the activated nerves of her skin, she did everything she knew he liked to return his attentions. May had learned his buttons and made love to each of them rather than pushing them for a reaction. Her love for him would never allow her to do anything but service him in any way that made him smile and say, “Yes May, there.”

As Duke dressed in a gray brushed-silk Southern-cut tuxedo with long tails and a matching embroidered shirt, a red silk bow tie, black cummerbund, patent black boots and white gloves, May was being laced into a red satin corset by Jimmy. She’d already put on some taupe pantyhose with a black fishnet pattern in the hose. She was being laced up in Ashley’s private playroom in his basement. They’d showered down there, and Jimmy had brought in the clothes they would wear to the party that night.

Duke thoroughly enjoyed watching May dress for some occasion, whether it was simply for play or if they were going somewhere. May putting on clothes was every bit as much of an erotic tease as it was watching some women take their clothes off. She just had that lithe grace and joy of doing something that pleased her master that made watching her a joy. After being released from the suspension bar, she put on a very sheer medium gray short-sleeved blouse that looked like seams, buttons and mist over her wide E-cup breasts. Next, she slipped into a dark gray mid-thigh hobble-tight pencil skirt with red pinstripes. She wriggled, flexing one leg and then the other as she slowly pulled the tight skirt into place, posing in slow motion for her limited audience, knowing that both men were staring hungrily at her. Duke helped her zip the skirt as he lightly and affectionately ran his hands over her body. May purred lightly, deep in her throat as he touched her. Next came the long red leather gloves that she smoothed on and up one arm at a time to just inches under her armpit. As Duke adjusted the fit so that the gloves would protect her from the ropes that would eventually be tied tightly around her arms, May touched him with tentative strokes and lingering pats. Helping her into the short-waisted suit-jacket that matched the skirt, May once again assumed the role of his sexy executive assistant. The last thing May slipped into was a pair of classic red patent pumps that sported a six-inch stiletto heel.

Taking Duke’s arm, they walked up the wide stairs to the ground floor and greeted Ashley, a woman they had met at the barbeque named Angela and another couple in the den.

“Duke, May, I know you met Angela already, but I’d like to introduce you to my silent partners in this enterprise. They put up a lot of money to help me renovate that old factory and stock the various stations of our dungeon with quality play equipment. Stan, Margie, these guests of ours are from a very private club called the Estates. They were sailing up the coast in their yacht and as May and I chatted online, I invited them to join us for some fun. They gave us a very arousing demonstration this afternoon and then gave away thousands of dollars worth of dungeon-toys to our members in attendance, especially the ladies.”

“It really wasn’t all that much Ashley,” said Duke.

“Duke, I saw those floggers you gave away, and each one of them was easily worth $250 or more,” replied Ashley.

“Truth be known Ashley, all of those were seconds off our manufacturing line. That’s why they weren’t stamped with our logo. In materials, there was maybe $23.- worth of leather and wood. Our slaves are held to an exceptionally high standard, and when there’s the slightest blemish we put the toy in what we call a second’s pile and make them create another toy just like the last one. Now I admit they are of good quality, but not the quality we sell to our members. Besides, I like to make people happy and everyone seemed delighted to get the presents.”

Angela, the club’s social secretary and Ashley’s date for the night pulled her flogger out, examined it very carefully, looked at Duke and exclaimed, “This is a second! My god Sir, I paid $325 for a flogger nowhere near this good, or as beautifully made. And the rest of the toys in this duffle bag are superbly crafted with no flaws that I can see. Thank you again for them, and one day I would love to see one of the ones that does meet muster for the Estates.”

“Angela, would you be offended if I told you that the bag full of toys I gave you cost me under $100? Toys do not have to be expensive to be good. Stores mark up the toys we use on each other because of the rarity of the market for such implements. Individual craftsmen charge so much so that they can make a living off their craft. We do live in a capitalistic society and I believe that’s one of the things that makes this country great, but when I have the chance, I buy low and give from the heart. At the Estates, our manufacturing facility uses slave labor, so that greatly reduces our overhead. We buy in bulk, getting tremendous deals from the hide manufacturers across the world, and other suppliers that make the raw materials for the toys we craft. Also, I think it’s important to explain that when I say slave labor, I’m not talking about third world immigrants chained to a table in a sweatshop. I’m referring to women like May, who have a personal need to be crafty and productive and choose to make these toys for those they serve. No one is forced to make these toys, and as far as the workforce goes, they would throw these toys away because they didn’t meet up to their personal standards of excellence. The members of the Estates just won’t let them though, so all the seconds go into a warehouse and are disposed of in situations like this. It’s really a win/win for everyone. Like I said, all of those toys are good quality toys, otherwise I never would have given them away, but they really didn’t cost me all that much. I just hope you like them.”

“Duke, sir, I love them, and so did everybody else that got something from you. I won’t tell anyone about this little talk. It’s probably best that some of them just don’t know any better.”

Ashley spoke up and said, “Again Duke, thank you for doing that, but knowing some of our members, it’s best that they have no idea about some things. We’ll just keep this our little secret. Did you say you were going to give away more things tonight?”

“Yes, I’d like to arrange something like door prizes for most of them, but you know your members better than I do, so I’d appreciate it if you rigged the drawings so that your poorest members got the bags of toys that we have left or the best toys we’ll be giving away. Do you think you can do that?”

“A real Robin Hood mentality it shall be sir. I know a few couples that could really use the boost that winning,” and Ashley winked, “something like this would give them. I’ll get together with your man Jimmy here, and we’ll work out a slick way to distribute the goodies. You not only look the part Duke, but you are a true Southern gentleman. And may I say, May my dear, you look absolutely delightful. Every man will be drooling over you for the entire evening. You wear all your clothes with such elegance, and that cannot be said for others I have known that have tried to wear clothes such as those. You are truly a stunning beauty and a charming lady.”

“Why sir, I thank you for the compliment. Duke likes to see me dress up and I like to dress up for him. We do this at home all the time. I have other outfits to change into if Duke decides to play with me again. I am always ready for anything he wants to do.”

“Spoken like a true slave at heart,” said Stan. “I am sorry I missed your demonstration. I hear it was quite the spectacle and a whole new way to play was introduced from your club to ours. Your valet, Jimmy explained exactly what you did and what the goals were and then he continued to explain the subtleties of what such play did to the mindset of the recipients of such play. I must compliment you on your training procedures for your help sir. They are quite well informed.”

“Stanley, both Stony and Jimmy are what we call grooms. They are salaried employees of the Estates. In fact, I started off at the Estates as a groom when I got out of the service. When a mentor died and left me his money, I bought my membership into the Estates. All grooms are dominants in training, and it takes years to perfect the craft of being a true dominant. The most important thing they have to learn is how to deal with individuals on levels that inspire progress, and how all people are different. We’re trained to get the most out of everyone we work with. We believe that a poor dominant bullies someone into doing what they want them to do. A common dominant just tells someone what to do. A decent dominant can instruct someone how to do something correctly. An excellent dominant knows and can explain why something should be a certain way so that others clearly understand what they should do to please and a real dominant, by our standards, inspires those he works with to willingly serve with pride and loyalty.

“To do this, you need to know people. You need to know how to read people and see past their veneer. Then you have to know how to communicate with people on their level of understanding so that you can be semantically accurate in explaining to them what you want them to do for you. The rest is just simple mechanics and the extensive use of the tools of the trade. We also train our grooms in many cross disciplines so that they know the physics behind an impact implement, the anatomy of a human body, the psychology of a woman’s mind and how to have fun doing this thing we do to one another. All of them, like the slaves at the Estates, are volunteers. The grooms are compensated well for their skill sets and rise through the ranks on a program that starts them off as beginners, then apprentices, then journeymen, then full grooms, which is our highest rank for the grooms. Stony is a full groom, and well trained in being one of the finest dominants I know. Jimmy is a journeyman groom and doing exceptionally well in his training. They may seem like stewards, butlers, or valets, but they all work for me, and they are all my friends. We serve like a cadre of professionals, those who need our services. I personally enjoy training women and inspiring them to be the best slaves that they can be, serving with pride, dignity and grace.”

“Well sir, if May here is evidence of the slaves you train, I want two,” and he laughed while Margie glared at him.

“Stanley, you are not the first one to say they want two of May, or two just like May. It really is just a matter of choosing the appropriate woman for the job and then training her how to serve. They do thrive under such training, and the results are fairly standardized. It all depends on what the dominant wants out of the woman they train. I’ve trained some women to be exceptional secretaries that serve in more settings than just the office. I’ve trained women to wait on their masters, hand and foot. I’ve trained women to service other women in ways only another woman can. It really doesn’t matter what you want them to do with their chosen masters after they are trained as long as you convince them of the positive rewards that serving another will bring them. At the Estates, the vetting process weeds out the status seekers, sex addicts that equate sex with service, the merely curious, and the mentally unstable. We train healthy women in a lifestyle that can only be positively productive for both the master and the slave.”

“So, you really believe that some women were born to serve, and others weren’t meant to serve at all.”

“Basically. Just as some men and women have nothing but a domineering streak of ego gratification when it comes to D/s relationships. Some should never wear a dominant’s hat, and some shouldn’t play these games at all until they become more emotionally stable in their outlooks on life.

One of the great analogies is sports. Some people are naturals, like May, and when nurtured correctly will shine and succeed at what satisfies their heart and soul. Others, like Stony could do other things in life, but are just so damned good at this, it would be a waste of a natural resource if they did. I won’t mention any names, but we all know some people that strut around and call themselves dominants, or masters, or mistresses, that couldn’t pour water out of a boot with instructions on the bottom of the heel. In my opinion, until they are mentored, or trained to do this in a positive and productive way, they shouldn’t play at all lest they hurt someone through carelessness. But, this is the US, and people have the right to try and do anything they want to do, and in any club, as long as their play is consensual, no one has the duty to tell them no. Our job as leaders is to instruct, lead by example and continually try to improve the surroundings we create. Stony has already talked to me about one suspicious character in your club and at the party tonight, he will make a decision about how to handle it by the end of the party. I have absolute faith in his decisions and will act on any suggestion he makes to me. I’ll keep Ashley in the loop as I get more information.”

“Good Duke, and if you would keep me in the loop too, please? I like to know what’s really going on at the club I helped create.”

“Will do Stanley. So why don’t we go and meet the players as they arrive to party.”

Duke explains his part

in representing the crew

that’s from the Estates.


Continues in

You can also leave your feedback & comments about this story on the Plaza Forum