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Subject: The Perfect Model, Chapter (bd, sm, tor, humil, nc)
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WARNING: The following contains graphic sexuality and is intended for
adult readers only. If you are not of legal age then stay away, as for
the other, enjoy the ride.

"The Perfect Model"    by Mahgirb

Chapter 5

Jessie took a quick shower and she inspected her body where the various
snakes had inspected.  But even as she was shaking, she was curious as
to what was going to happen to that maid, the one that Mr. Blaine
referred to simply as Maid No. 3.  He had said to report to his living
quarters upstairs. 

She stepped out of the shower and toweled off. She tried to find some
inconspicuous clothes, the kind of attire for snooping, but everything
in her closet was at the very least risque.  Finally, Jessie settled on
a pair of tight blue jeans, and a cutoff top that allowed her sexy
midriff to show.  She couldn't find any shoes save for heels, and none
of those had less than a five inch heel.  She slipped on a pair of black
heels and creeped into the hallway.  

Jessie didn't hear anything from this level.  All of the girls must
either be on shoots or are out shopping, Jessie surmised. She walked
upstairs to the third floor, half expecting that the doors leading the
way would be locked or electronically secured. To her surprise, the
solid oak doors were unlocked, and as she passed the doorframe, no
sounds, no buzzers, no security system alerted to her presence.  She
decided to press on.

The carpet was a thick burgundy color and the walls were decorated with
Mr. Blaine's work. Not his models' pictures, or his other collections of
beautiful women.  These works were different. Even to her unlearned eye,
she felt that these works were expensive.  And more than that, she felt
that they were wonderful. It was abstract and surreal stuff, nothing
precisely drawn or painted in these pieces.  The subjects were vague
images and the colors were mostly shades of grey and black, contrasted
with white and red.  It was powerful to look at, and Jessie found
herself admiring what she could not put into words.

Slowly, a soft whimper broke into her senses. She closed her eyes to
concentrate on the sound.  There it was again.  Jessie walked carefully
by each door, resting her ear against the oak, trying to determine what
direction to follow. The whimper was getting stronger. Jessie continued
to follow it until she was sure.

She cautiously tested the handle, finding that it too was unlocked, she
turned the knob completely and pried the door open ever so slightly.
With trepidation, Jessie leaned her head forward to peek inside.

Through the crack she could see only shadows.There was a light source
further into the room, but from here Jessie couldn't see anything
clearly. However, the muffled sounds were louder.  Too curious to go
back now, she told herself.  She steeled her nerves and walked all the
way through.

The first item she noted was that her heel clicked against the floor.
Obviously this room wasn't carpeted; it was either wood or concrete
beneath her.  She removed her heels and left them by the door so as to
reduce the noise of her own footsteps.  

Jessie walked in silence, sliding along the wall since she had no light
to guide her. The wall felt rough and scraped against her jeans.  She
continued for several feet and then felt her body turning a corner,
getting nearer the faint light source.  As she cleared that corner, she
stood still in her tracks, focusing on the scene that lay before her.

The light was emanating from dozens of thick candles on the cement
floor.  Their light was reflecting off the body of Maid No. 3.  She was
completely stripped of her uniform, hanging by her wrists, her naked
body three inches off the ground. The chains that held her aloft
disappeared toward the ceiling, but Jessie had enough light to see that
the maid's wrists were cut and bleeding from the weight of her body.  

Maid No. 3 was motionless except for a barely perceptible sway as she
tried with little success to adjust her wrists and her body into a more
comfortable position.  The maid's head was limply hung down,but Jessie
could make out that a harsh gag was simultaneously covering the maid's
mouth and expanding her jaws.  It looked uncomfortable, maybe painful. 

The flickering candle light played off what was a firm and voluptuous
figure covered in sweat that made her body look even more desirable.  As
Jessie squinted her eyes (she needed glasses and her eyesight was poorer
in the dark), she made out several distinct marks up and down the maid's
taut body. Whip marks.  In some places along her thighs and stomach, the
whip marks were lined with small traces of blood. 

Jessie was stunned and frightened.  Just when she was beginning to
assimilate her own feelings, she heard loud, crisp footsteps approaching
from the opposite side of the cavernous room. She crawled down and hide
herself out of the light, but managed to keep her eyes locked on the
display unfolding before her.

Mr. Blaine, dressed in his casual attire, walked slowly, purposefully to
the hanging Maid No. 3. He inspected his work, running his fingers along
her whipped body, dipping his fingers into the trickles of blood that
his whip had provoked. 

"I am very disappointed in you, Maid No. 3," he began, circling her
tortured body as he talked. "How long have you been in my service? Two
years, I believe. Two years I have been your master and your keeper, and
yet you still question my authority and intervene when I am in a
session? I have trained you better, No. 3. Or have I failed to train you
properly?"

Mr. Blaine unlatched the hooks that held the maid's gag in place.  The
maid straightened her neck for this, and Jessie watched in amazement as
a penis gag was extracted. It was a realistic looking penis, Jessie
noted, and it took some time to withdraw as the rubber shaft was three
inches wide and at least six inches long.  Drool issued from the maid's
mouth as the thing finally emerged across her lips.

"Have I failed to train you properly, No. 3?' 

"No, sir.  No, you cannot fail.  It is your maid that failed. It is your
maid that is worthless. I understand that now.  Please, don't use the
whip on my body anymore. I have been properly trained and I will obey. I
beg you sir, please."

Maid No. 3 had a look of panic, and her dark brown eyes were imploring
Mr. Blaine. 

"I am still not convinced, my pet. I have whipped you before and yet
your insolence occurred today.  Is your past whipping not firmly planted
in your mind? Do you not remember your place in this house?"

"Oh, please, master, I will do better.  I know that I am your servant.
I will not interfere ever again. I know my place. I know that I am only
a slave." She started to tear, but those tears were irrelevant to Mr.
Blaine.

"I am not swayed; I am not sure you can remember who you are in this
household. Therefore, I offer you a permanent reminder."

He walked into the darkness for a second and rolled in a brazier which
was red hot with several metal implements soaking up the heat.

Upon seeing this, the maid began to twitch and shake, she was panicking,
kicking and screaming for help.  Mr. Blaine firmly wrestled control of
her body and reinserted the nasty penis gag.  He picked up one of the
hot brands and turned her slender body around so that he was facing her
backside. 

"You will always remember who you are, Maid No. 3."

And with that, he applied the brand to the small of her back, just above
her ass crack, and held the brand there for what seemed like that an
eternity. The maid screamed through the entire process, and even the gag
could not muffle the distress in her raw throat.  Jessie was trying to
keep from vomiting her breakfast as she couldn't turn away from this
spectacle. 

When the brand was pulled away, Jessie could make out a large number "3"
emblazoned on the thin skin of the maid's back. The maid was panting and
perspiring heavily.  Mr. Blaine was dispassionately admiring his work.

Jessie had seen enough, too much. She started to crawl back, not wanting
to attract attention,least of all, not wanting to attract the attention
of a madman.  On her quiet retreat, she stumbled over an extinguished
candle.  The sound of the knocked candle was minor, but Jessie froze,
fearing that Mr. Blaine heard the disturbance. Several tense seconds
passed and she did not hear him stir toward the noise. Maybe he left the
room through another door, she thought (she hoped).  

Jessie retreated again, quickening her pace and slid along the dark
walls until finally reaching the door.  She hustled out and made her way
quickly back to her room.

Once she returned to the safety of her room and locked the door behind
her, she rested momentarily against that door.  She closed her eyes and
hung her head in disbelief at what she had just witnessed.  As she
opened her eyes, she caught a glimpse of her feet on the carpet.  

In her haste, Jessie had left her high heel shoes upstairs. 

End of Chapter 5        





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