To Sleep, Perchance To Dream Ch. 02

SOME OF KAREN'S QUESTIONS ARE ANSWERED

The first story in the 'Karen' series, 'To Sleep, Perchance To Dream' left our heroine in a warehouse, locked in a room with no windows.

Karen's 'morning after' included her standard morning hangover with the addition of discovering a few missing articles of clothing.

Her only human contact was with a ski-masked stranger who brought her a pitcher of Vodka and a second empty pitcher in which to pee. Baccarat, no less! He not only did not speak to her, but when questioned he instantly backhanded Karen, knocking her down.

Karen's reaction to her state of captivity and harsh treatment seemed to be one of curiosity and mild interest, but not alarm.

--

Karen heard a key in the lock of the door to her new quarters so she sat up. The ski-masked man was back. He walked over to her and handed her a small envelope made of heavy rag paper.

Karen looked up at him and said, "Well if it isn't my old friend the downhill racer! Beat up any women lately?"

He said nothing but returned to the door and reached into the hall for something. His hand reappeared holding a blue dress and matching heels. Karen couldn't recognize the designer, but she could tell that the frock represented serious money.

Karen opened the envelope and found a folded invitation. She opened it and read the impeccable script.

Karen Dear, Please accept my invitation to lunch with me. I apologize for the last minute invitation but since I know you have no other plans and aren't going anywhere else, I'm hoping you'll accept. My servant will assist you in any way to prepare for our 'date'. It is at your disposal. If you feel compelled to speak to it, simply address it as 'Servant' as it has no other name.

The note was unsigned.

Karen spoke, albeit in a low tone as she was only addressing herself, "Curiouser and curiouser!"

She looked to the door. Servant was just standing, not looking at her, but waiting. She shrugged her shoulders. "Okay, servant, at least my sweet ass will be out of this fuckin' cold room."

Servant turned and began walking down the hall. Karen followed. As she glanced over her surroundings Karen realized that the structure was less a warehouse and more a huge barn. The wall to her left was lined with doors leading to more storage rooms like she had spent the night in, but across the room was a line of empty horse stalls. The loft above her was filled with bales of hay.

Servant opened a door at the end of the row and Karen discovered a tack room beyond which was a large bathroom. A gang shower, three toilets and a bidet were separated from the gleaming freshly oiled leather of the tack by only a 30" tall half wall topped with glass.

Servant hung the dress on a hook and went into the bath area to turn on the shower. Karen protested when Servant began to unbutton Karen's jeans.

"Hold on buddy, this I can do for myself." Karen pulled her top off and as it slid over her head she realized how much either the shirt or her body stank. She pushed down her jeans and had her fingers hooked in her thong when she remembered Servant. She looked up and saw the Servant had already undressed and was in the shower, soaping up a pair of washcloths. What startled Karen most, however was the fact that Servant wasn't a slim man, but a rather nicely built woman! Shrugging, she stepped out of her panties and entered the shower.

Karen reached for the bar of soap but was quickly stopped by Servant who was shaking her head 'no' and wagging her finger. Karen would have preferred a shower with soap but the hot water felt so good to her she just shut her eyes and turned her face up to the cascading stream. Servant took Karen's hand and motioned her to sit on the slatted teak bench. She then filled her palm with shampoo and started rubbing it into Karen's hair. What Karen expected to be a quick shampoo turned into a fifteen minute scalp and neck massage. Karen groaned, "I'm supposed to be getting ready for lunch so you'll have to stop what you're doing sometime in the next five hours, mmmm!"

Servant grabbed a hand sprayer and rinsed the shampoo out of Karen's hair before applying a generous amount of conditioner and rubbing that in. Servant then had Karen rise and stand with her arms at her sides. The two cloths Karen had seen Servant soaping up were, as she could now see, terrycloth gloves.

Servant began soaping up Karen's shoulders and worked its way down Karen's left arm. Then, standing in front of her Servant raised Karen's arms and scrubbed her armpits, working her way across her collarbones, down onto her breasts, and between her legs. Servant took particular care to clean Karen's pussy and ass.

The next thing Karen became aware of was the pair of lips licking and nibbling her labia. She almost lost her balance the first time Servant's tongue invaded her. She sat back down on the teak and Servant's tongue hardly missed a beat.

Karen had quickly figured out that her role in this whole process was simply to allow herself to be done. Ordinarily, she would have dug her heels in and demanded some independent course of action, but it was rather nice allowing herself to be, done, to have someone else take total control. Her pussy was dripping as Servant gently sucked her clit...

For now, however, all Karen wanted was to know what was going on. She gently stopped Servant's ministrations short of her finish line. Karen couldn't ever remember doing that before.

After Servant had bathed and dried her, Karen was ready for whatever should come; at least she thought she was. Servant led her to a make-up table, had her sit down and started working on her face. Karen asked, "If you could tell me where the hair dryer is I could..."

Servant shook her head no and started combing Karen's hair under a dryer. Karen looked in the mirror and thought, "I never would have picked that color eye shadow but I have to admit, it looks really good on me." Servant put the blue shoes on Karen's feet and held the blue frock for her to step into. She hadn't been offered any underwear options.

Karen was then led down the hall and out of the barn. As she followed Servant she allowed her eyes to look over the estate. The home and barns were certainly grand but what most impressed her were the fastidiously manicured grounds. It had been Karen's observation that the first symptom of the once mighty who'd fallen on hard times was an untended landscape. Whoever owned this place wasn't short of cash!

Servant led her into the main house through a side patio door which led them into what was ostensibly a foyer, but looked to Karen suspiciously like a gallery of equestrian art. The walls were adorned with paintings ranging from old English hunt scenes to a magnificent horse portrait. Karen immediately surmised that the muscular near-black filly with the white star and tiny feet had to be Barbara and Stuart Janney's legendary Ruffian.

The center of the 20 by 30 foot room was occupied by a life-sized bronze of a horse and jockey in full gallop. Karen didn't immediately recognize the horse, but as she walked around the bronze she saw the delicate tracing of an "H" in a triangle on the Jockey's silks and knew the horse had to be Seabiscuit.

Servant had been patiently waiting for Karen. Karen asked her, "Do you know any of the history of these magnificent champions?"

"No, I'm sorry, Mistress, but I don't know nearly as much about thoroughbreds as I should."

Karen pointed to the large painting. "I've got a book about that wonderful filly. I could lend it to you if you like."

"I'm sorry, Mistress, I can only accept gifts from my Master, but thank you for offering." The two walked on toward the dining room.

Karen wasn't really on board with this Master-Mistress nonsense but no one had asked her her opinion and she wasn't volunteering anything at this point. Besides, she was a little busy right then counting chairs. Wow! Fourteen chairs on a side, two sides and one on each end...seating for 30 at the table!

There was a slim girl with short blonde hair waiting at the head of the table. She was wearing a tuxedo and standing in a pose reminiscent of a military "at ease" posture; legs spread apart and hands held behind her back. She was glancing toward Karen as Servant led her to a seat to the right of the head of the table.

Karen had not yet reached her seat when a door in the opposite wall opened and a man briskly walked in. Karen recognized him as the man she had been at the Prime Rib with. He was the man who put the green olives in her pussy. Brian, his name is Brian!

Brian held her chair for her and she sat. "Thank you Brian."

He smiled as he went to the head of the table. "Oh, so you remember me."

"The sight of you made me flash on the olives, and after that, yes, a few pieces fell into place."

Brian smiled again. It was a powerful weapon; Karen began to feel more than a little heat deep within her. Brian continued, "I wasn't sure how hungry you'd be so the kitchen's prepared for either a light brunch or something a bit more elaborate. I, for one, am having Eggs Benedict, grapefruit juice and coffee."

"That sounds lovely, I'll have the same." The tuxedoed woman bowed and left for the kitchen.

Brian said, "First of all, about late last night, I wanted to apologize for the unforgivable behavior of that servant which struck you. It was completely unacceptable and rest assured that the offending young woman has been severely punished and will no longer be in service here."

"She didn't really hurt me, so I wouldn't be too harsh with her. If this young lady is 'Servant', what was the other's name?"

"As you're no doubt aware, the origins of many of today's names began with the job of the person. Millers were known as Miller, carpenters were Carpenter, and so on; here we use the same system. Her name was Servant, as her function was to look after and protect you from doing harm to yourself. When she lost her function this new Servant was assigned to you. Yesterday her name was Groom, as she took care of several of the horses."

"And therefore around here Brian becomes Master."

"It's functional."

"So who am I?"

"You're not part of our little community so your name is still Karen Jacobs. Your parents are still Donald and Elaine, your home is still ostensibly Larchmont, and you're still a sophomore at the University."

Karen was surprised. "You seem to know a lot about me."

"Oh, I know a lot more than those minor details. I know practically everything about you. I know you were offered a full academic scholarship but because you were too lazy to fill out the paperwork accepting it, it was subsequently withdrawn. I know that you sporadically apply yourself to your studies and trust to a remarkable intelligence to keep academic failure at bay. I know that you haven't had a boyfriend since Robbie Banner in the ninth grade, preferring a succession of one night stands.

Brian leaned forward, "Unless you count Jeff Naylor as a boyfriend. He's made eight 'dates' with you this year, but his idea of a date is to bring you back to Alpha Chi to be passed around from room to room like an interoffice memo. I believe you set the house record by fucking 37 of the brothers and their guests one weekend.

Let's see! I know that you were sufficiently down on yourself after that weekend that you jumped a train to Albany to visit your favorite cousin Carrie. You and Carrie have always been there for each other in the past.

The only problem is that you never made it to Carrie's! A commuter in the train station mistook you for a 'working girl' and offered you $300 for a fuck in his hotel. You stayed the night with him and caught the next train back to school.

I know that the last time you went to bed sober was 34 days ago when you had a bad chest cold and never went out to party.

Oh, wonderful our food has arrived!" He leaned toward Karen as if he was sharing a secret with her, "Talking always makes me hungry."

Karen was numb. She knew all the individual things he had said were true, but she'd never faced them all together as had just happened. She could feel the tears in her eyes as she said, "So you figured you'd kidnap the whore so you could have a convenient pussy?"

Brian reached out and brushed a tear from Karen's cheek with his thumb. "Karen, Karen, Karen; if all I'd wanted was your pussy I could have had you in the restaurant men's room. If you can recall, you asked to be taken there.

Furthermore, I didn't 'kidnap' you; you begged to come home with me."

"So why did I wind up locked in a cell in the barn?"

"The door to your room was locked so you couldn't wander off and hurt yourself, and although it pains me to have to say this, your room was in the barn because only people sleep in my home and you don't quite qualify in your present state."

Karen couldn't look at his face. "If you don't want to fuck me and don't even consider me to be a person, why am I here?"

Brian leaned back in his chair and continued looking at Karen in silence until she looked up into his face. "As you obviously know by now, I've invested quite a bit of time and money trying to figure out what makes you tick. You originally caught my eye when you were an incoming freshman."

He leaned forward and took her hand. "You have all the ingredients to be an extraordinary woman, yet for some reason you've chosen this self-destructive path for your life. You're bright, you can be quite charming, and you're an incredibly beautiful and sexy woman. You just don't like yourself very much.

By the way, speaking of bright..." He reached his hand backward without looking. Servant handed him Karen's anthropology paper.

"If I'm not mistaken you fail your course if this isn't turned in by 2 p.m. I'll see that you're driven to campus in time to turn it in. I've read it, by the way, and I think you give Dr. Leakey more credit than he deserves."

Karen smiled for the first time. "Yeah but the professor thinks Leakey walks on water so I was playing to a grade."

"I thought so.

Why are you here? You're here because I want to offer you a life line. I'm not your shrink so I don't care why you started disrespecting yourself. I just want to help you to realize the potential that you were born with, the potential you've chosen to squander."

Karen didn't break eye contact. "And how are you going to accomplish that?"

"By taking over for a while and making your decisions for you. For this all to work you must admit to yourself that you've been doing a shitty job of running your life and that it's about time you hired a professional to run it for you. Someone who can instill discipline where there was only chaos. Someone who can ultimately give you back your self-respect."

Karen kept watching his eyes. Over the years she had gotten pretty good at separating the people who were sincere from the bullshitters. This guy believed that he could do what he said he could.

"And you're the man who can accomplish this?"

Brian answered softly, "Yes I can.

But look at the time! Your paper's going to be late if you don't hurry. Servant has already put your things in the car and Driver will take you to McArthur Hall to turn in your paper. Think about what you want to do. After you've submitted the paper Driver will either take you back to your apartment, or, if you'd like to pursue this discussion, back here for more conversation. Either way, consider the frock a gift. That shade of blue makes your eyes almost electric."

Brian looked at her plate. The food had not been touched. He shook his head. "If you do come back I'll have to see you get something proper to eat! You need fuel for that engine." As they stood he leaned over and kissed her cheek.

--

As Karen traveled in the back of the limo back to campus she distilled their entire conversation to two words; Master and discipline. She had a pretty good idea that this transformation involved the loss of her independence. She would wind up with the same status as Servant or Driver. She had a thought and rolled down the window between herself and the chauffer. "Driver, are you allowed to talk to me?"

"Yes, Mistress, the Master told me to truthfully answer any of your questions except those concerning my former identity."

"How long have you been with...Master?"

"Two years this February, Mistress."

"How did you meet him?"

"I had been turning tricks in Manhattan and one John got kind of rough. He beat me up, took back his money and threw me unconscious from the car on 8th Avenue. Master's car had been following us and picked me up immediately. I was taken to the clinic at Master's house."

"Are you happy at the Estate?"

Driver hesitated before answering. "I wish you could see my face to show how strongly I feel about this. I ran away from home at sixteen with a boy who brought me to the City. He took off in less than three weeks and left me with an unpaid rent bill on the rattrap we were renting week-to-week. He'd taken my last $200 when he left. The landlord was willing to give me two more days to come up with the rent in exchange for a fuck. I was turning tricks that very night. I had a pimp by that weekend.

If Master hadn't taken me from that life I'm sure I'd be dead today."

"But didn't you just trade one Master for another? Your life is still being run by some guy!"

The car pulled up in front of McArthur Hall. Driver turned and looked Karen in the eyes. "My first MAC decided to move to L.A. and sold his stable to another pimp the week before my 'accident'. Prior to that I'd done some speed and a little coke but drugs were never much of a problem for me. My new guy believed in drugs as a training tool. His other four girls were all crack-heads and I'd been told repeatedly that anytime I wanted some I could have it for free because I was 'special'.

If I'd stayed with him I would have been a crack-whore in a matter of weeks. With Master I'm now one year away from my G.E.D. and Master insists I have a twelve credit college course of study selected by next month.

When Lewis told me who to fuck he did it for money and he didn't care if I lived or died.

When I began my training with the Master he also occasionally told me who to fuck. But every fuck aided me in my acceptance of the discipline. I was never hurt and you can believe whatever your want but I believe he sincerely cares about me and my future."

Karen sighed and said gently, "But Driver aren't you just his slave?"

Driver answered with passion and tears in her eyes. "Yes! and it's the best thing that could have happened to me.

Do you want to know my greatest fear? Master has told me that once my education and training is finished I must begin a life out in the 'real' world. I fall asleep every single night trying to think of some way I can convince him to let me stay.

In my experience the 'real' world sucks...Mistress." Driver turned back to the windshield. "You'd better hurry Mistress, it's almost two o'clock. I'll wait here."

Karen drew more than a few stares in her blue dress and she left her paper in the Professor's "In" box. As it was getting close to the deadline he was at his desk with his feet up waiting for 2 p.m.

He said, "Damn, Miss Jacobs you just cost me twenty dollars. I bet Professor Kuhn that you wouldn't make it in time. I was sure that by the end of the week you'd be on your knees under my desk trying to convince me not to fail you. Oh well, maybe next time."

Karen was shocked. "Professor, why would you say such a thing? That's horribly cruel."

"Why do you say that? That's how you got to keep your 'A' last year when you forgot to turn in your term project. Kuhn mentioned that you fucked your way into an 'A' in Sanderson's course also."