A Different Kind of Home Ch. 01

Author's note: Fiction. Gregg finds his life upended after a difficult breakup, and finds it leading him to an entirely new kind of household.

I wonder what would have happened if I had never confessed. At the time life seemed good. I had settled down with Alison and even proposed marriage.

When I proposed we had agreed to wait before we set a date. This seemed fine at the time. We were doing very well together. Soon after we got engaged, she decided to take another job (she had been my secretary). She said it created a conflict of interest for her working under me at the same time we were so heavily involved personally.

She took a job with a law firm that was well-known locally and had even begun to attract a nationwide clientele. The job seemed to fit her well and she soon found herself working as a paralegal. This was great for our income, but it meant now there were many nights she had to stay late at the office, and a couple of times she had to travel out of state.

I was happy to see her do well, but hated to have my time with her curtailed. Also I missed her efficiency around the office. My new secretary was OK, but it just was not the same, and it meant I had to put in more time just to get the same work done.

Alison seemed to love it, though. When I did have time with her, she was smiling all the time and had lots of interesting stories about her job, her boss, and the interesting and sometimes evil people with whom they had to deal.

One night soon after a particularly grueling and successful case, she and I were making love when she commented on the small tattoos on my groin and buttocks (I had had the "property of Lynette H." script covered up with intricate designs just about the time I moved in with Alison).

"What is that?" she asked. "It's a strange place for a tattoo." I was right then feeling very close to her. I just did not feel like making something up. So I confessed to her about my past relationship with Lynette.

Alison looked angry. "I just don't know what to say," she told me. "When exactly were you going to talk to me about this? It makes me feel like I don't know you. I think we should stop now, and I think I'd like it if you slept in the spare bedroom tonight"

I burst into tears and begged her not to stop the sex, not to exile me like this, but she was adamant. All she said was, "I need time to think." So off I trudged to the spare bedroom.

The next morning, I slept a little late and when I get up there was a note from Alison. She said she had decided to go on into the office because she wanted to catch up on some paperwork she'd forgotten. It was a Saturday and I thought she was going to take the entire weekend off for a change, but she was obsessed with the job. I was a little disappointed because I wanted to get our difficulty of the previous night behind us.

We shared housework pretty much 50 – 50, and so I just got started on my chores, and when I got done, turned on the TV to watch some college football. A few minutes later in walked Alison.

"Turn off the television, Gregg," she told me. I hated to do so because the university team was playing and I was a big fan, and I'm sure she saw my hesitation. Nevertheless I did as she asked.

"I find what you told me last night very disturbing, Gregg," she said. "It's something that should have been discussed up front before we got involved. I'm not sure what kind of relationship I can have with you now.

"For the time being I'd like it if you continued to sleep in the guest bedroom," she continued.

"But Alison, I'm still the same person. I haven't lied to you. I still love you. I help you around the house. I do everything you ask."

"You didn't exactly lie," she replied, "But you withheld something very important about yourself, something very important about how you relate to women, and I have to figure out if I can still be with you after knowing this. And I suggest you give me plenty of space while I make up my mind. It's important if you want there to be any hope at all for this relationship."

After a while she went out again, and told me just to get dinner on my own. She wasn't back until late, long after I'd gone to bed in the spare bedroom. The next day she slept late, and went out again most of the day.

She didn't come home until after I had eaten. She sat down in front of me, and said, "We have to talk.

"I love you very much," she continued. "But I can't handle what you told me. It's disgusting, and I hate it, and so even though I love you, I can't stand you right now."

"Isn't there anything at all I can do to help make it better?" I asked. At this she began to cry. "No," she said. "It's too painful now. In fact I can't handle you living here any more. I'm going to have to ask you to move out as soon as you can."

"Does this mean we're not engaged any more," I replied. At this she sobbed louder, ripped the engagement ring off her finger and threw it at my feet.

"Just get away from me," she screamed. "I don't want to even see you now." I retreated to my room. The next morning she went to work early and I didn't even see her. I could tell by her coldness that evening it really was time to move. I found an apartment within a week and had all my stuff out a day or two later.

I was devastated. Afterward, it seemed I did nothing but go to work and otherwise just seemed to sit at home heartbroken.

After a few months of this I was at home reading one Saturday when the phone rang. It was Alison. As soon as the hello's were done, she said, "I really do want to apologize for how I treated you when we broke up. I don't want to say more over the phone. Could we meet somewhere?"

I agreed immediately, and hope was making my heart beat faster. We met about an hour later at a roadside diner where there were a lot of private booths.

"Gregg," she told me looking into my eyes. "I know I was very unfair to you when you confessed what your relationship had been with Lynette. I said some very hurtful things, and I'm deeply, deeply sorry."

"That's OK Alison," I said tentatively. "Does this mean we can start seeing each other again?"

"No Gregg. I'm sorry. It doesn't," she said. "You see after you moved out I started thinking about everything you said, and it made me feel things I hadn't felt before. Once I quit being angry I started wondering about myself. A couple of months ago, I went out for drinks with one of the new partners at work. She's a beautiful wonderful woman, and I've been fascinated with her since I started working there.

"After we'd had a little wine, she interrogated me gently about why I had been feeling out of sorts, and I just told her everything about us."

My heart sank. I'd had no idea she might be bisexual.

Alison picked up on my feeling, and said, "It's not exactly what you think, Gregg. She did take me home that night, and we did make love, but she introduced me to a whole new world. I'm her slave now, and I've never been happier."

I was miserable. "But then, why are we even talking now?" I asked.

"That's just it," said Alison, grabbing my hand. "I still care about you. Love you even. But we could never be a couple because what I know now is I have to have someone to dominate me, and you're a slave, too."

I stated to protest, but she held up her hand. "No, Gregg. I'm right on this. You could never dominate me. Remember I lived with you for the better part of a year. It's just not in you. Besides I belong to Melissa now."

"But what about us?" I exclaimed.

"That's just it," said Alison. "There is a way we can be closer together that wouldn't violate my commitment to Melissa, and would give you what you need as well. Are you willing to trust me?"

"I'm not sure I have a choice. I love you so much I'd do just about anything to be close to you again," I said.

"Oh, that's wonderful news!" Alison smiled as sweetly as I used to remember from our best moments when we were together. "Let me make a call," she said. She stepped away from the booth, dialed a number on her cell phone, and spoke into it for a couple of minutes.

After she was done, she walked over, leaned down, gave me a kiss, and plunked down into the booth beside me. "You are so not going to be sorry," she said. She looked straight at me. "Do you have plans this afternoon?"

I admitted I did not. "Good!" She said. "You'll need to come with me."

"But what's going to happen? I asked, bewildered.

"Sh-h! You'll just have to trust me," she said, smiling.

She took me by the hand to her car, and drove us out of town until she came to a gate that led into a large wooded property. "Where's this?" I asked. She just hushed me again as she turned into the lane.

We drove up to a large manorial looking home with a couple of smaller houses close by. She parked the car, went up the manor house and knocked. The door opened quickly and we went in, off to the left there was a study with the door ajar. Alison took me over there and we went in.

Sitting in a chair was a lovely dark-haired woman in equestrian gear. She turned around from her desk. Alison immediately rushed over, knelt down and kissed her feet passionately. "Alison, dear, how lovely to see you," the woman said as she pulled Alison to an upright kneeling position and embraced her warmly. They kissed deeply. "It's always so good to see you, Mistress," she said.

Alison then turned to face me, kneeling beside the other woman's chair. She motioned nervously with her hand. "Gregg, get on your knees!" she whispered. I felt I had no choice and did as she asked.

After I was on my knees, the woman eyed me for a moment, then looked down at Alison, saying, "And what is this charming treat you've brought me?"

"This is Gregg, Mistress," Alison replied. "Oh-ho! You've done well indeed," the woman said. "He's the one you told me about when we had our first talk, Isn't he?" Alison nodded. "Very good then. Alison honey, you're dismissed."

Alison immediately kissed the woman's feet, got up, and left the room shutting the door behind her. Here I was on my knees before this woman I did not know, and the woman I loved had left me there alone with her. What was going on?

"Hello Gregg," the woman said. "I'm Melissa, Mistress Melissa to you. I'm a law partner at the firm where Alison works. I also have money of my own. This house, the other buildings, the land around them, and the people in them all belong to me. No one can even be a guest in this house more than once unless they belong to me.

"I think Alison told you she's my slave, as is everyone else who lives here or visits here frequently. She's a wonderful lover among many other things."

At this I started. "I feel badly for you losing that," Melissa said, "But Alison has made the right choice. You have the chance to make a good choice, too, and you will have the chance to be around Alison if you make it, even though she still will belong to me."

"I feel like I don't know what I'd be getting into, Mistress," I said.

Melissa smiled. "You do have manners. That's very good. You might do well here, you know," she said. "Your question is perfectly reasonable.

"I possess five women and two men, including Alison. Becky, whom you certainly will meet if you make the right choice, is a slave, but she serves as my assistant and to some degree as overseer of the other slaves.

"Some of the slaves live here. Two of the women, including Alison, do not, but do spend most of their free time here with me. I encourage my slaves to be close friends, and even intimate with one another, but that is of course subject to my desire at all times because their bodies continue to belong to me.

"The slaves take care of all the household and property maintenance chores, and run all the errands. This gives me the leisure to concentrate on my work and on my own life. They also must always remain available for direct personal service to me.

"I consider the submission the slaves give me as a very profound practical and emotional gift, and I am grateful for what they give me and sacrifice for me every single day. I think you could be one of them, if you're worthy.

"I'm going to start with a little test. Take off your clothes for me, pile them neatly over there, and kneel back down where you were. That's good," she said as I did so.

This was humiliating. I didn't even know Melissa, and here I was, naked in front of her, and my Alison was somewhere else in the house. "I see your little penis is excited to see me," she grinned. "Now I want you to masturbate for me."

"But . . .!" I exclaimed.

"I don't want to hear another word. If you are not willing to do what I say, just get your clothes back on. I'll call Alison. She'll drive you back to your car, and you'll never see her again. It's your choice."

"Yes, Mistress," I said, and I began stroking. I masturbated furiously and it felt oh so good. As I got close to the edge I called out, "Mistress, I think I'm going to come!"

"Stop!" she said firmly a moment later, and I did. The frustration was intense and there were tears in my eyes. My breathing was ragged. "See. You already respond to my commands," she said. "And I can tell you're enjoying this. I think when you say yes, you'll be glad you did."

Then she ordered me once again to masturbate, and when I got to the brink she stopped me. She repeated this three more times. At the end of the third time as I got to the brink, she said, "Now come for me. Come for me hard and say my name over and over again as you do. Also catch as much of your come as possible in your other hand"

At that I started coming in one of the most explosive orgasms of my life. "Melissa! Melissa! Melissa! Mistress!" I called out as the hot come gushed onto my hand and onto the floor. "Thank you, Mistress. Thank you," I sighed as the last pulsations ended.

"Good," said Melissa. "Now lap up every last drop. Don't look that way. Just do it," she said. I did as she said and lapped the hot sticky mess from my hands. "Don't forget the mess you left on the floor," said Melissa, and I knelt to the floor and licked that up, too.

"This shows," said Melissa, "that your sexuality will belong to me, regardless of what feelings you might have for Alison." She turned around and pressed a button on her desk. A moment later, another woman poked her head in the door. She eyed me with curiosity.

"Becky, honey, would you please tell Alison to come here for me?"

"Yes, Mistress," Becky replied and shut the door. In a few moments, Alison came in the room, kissed Melissa's feet, and turned to look at me as I knelt there, naked, come still plastered to my penis. Alison looked both sad and hopeful at the same time.

"Alison, dear, I think I'm going to offer Gregg the opportunity to be one of my slaves," said Melissa. "But since you and he used to be engaged you are allowed to object if you wish."

"No, Mistress. I want him here," Alison said softly.

"That's good," said Melissa. "Gregg," she said. "Get dressed. Alison will take you back to your car. You will have one week to decide. Alison will call you one week from today, and if you say yes, she will bring you back out here and you will become my slave immediately. Do you understand?

"Also I don't want you to date anyone or to masturbate before you hear from Alison. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Mistress it is," I said. At that Melissa turned back to her desk and began to examine some papers there. I got dressed. When I was done, Alison motioned back, and whispered, "Kiss the Mistress's feet before you leave."

I crawled over to the desk, knelt down and kissed Melissa's feet. She just kept on working, and I backed up so Alison could do the same. After that, Alison took me by the hand and we went back to her car.

She was quiet on the drive back to town. When she pulled into the parking lot at the diner, she turned to me and said, "Gregg, this is our one chance to ever spend time together. I miss you so much! We'll both belong to Melissa, but we'll belong to her together. Please say yes when I call you next week. Please!"

I drew her to me, held her, and kissed her gently on the lips. "I'll wait for your call," I said. She nodded, her eyes full of tears. I was crying, too.

"I'll talk to you next week," she said in a soft voice as I got out of the car. I smiled and kissed her hand.

"Until then," I replied. I gave Alison one last look, then got in my car and drove home.

I thought about what had happened all week. I still wanted to get closer to Alison, Mistress Melissa was incredibly charismatic, and I felt a sense of wonder in her presence as I rolled over and over in my mind what she had made me do. But I could not quite get my arms around being one of many slaves in a household, and so when the phone rang the following Saturday promptly at 9 am, I still had not made a decision.

It was Alison of course. "Hi Gregg," she said tentatively. We made a little small talk, and then she asked me directly, "Are you going to come be with us and serve our Mistress? I so hope you say yes. I can't bear to lose you again." She began to cry.

I melted then and there. "Alison, don't cry. Sure I'll come. I'll be with you and serve our Mistress with you."

"Oh thank you. Thank you Gregg," gasped Alison. "You don't know how much this means to me.

"Now here's what you need to do. You need to pack up all the clothes you need for work for the coming week, and your toothbrush and stuff, and meet me at the diner promptly in one hour. Can you do that Gregg?"

This meant I was going to be staying at the compound, and looked like much more than I had bargained for. But I had already said yes and made the commitment. "I'll be there," I told her.

An hour later, I was in the parking lot at the diner when Alison pulled up with another woman in the car. I recognized her as Becky from the previous week, the woman Mistress Melissa said had oversight over the household and its slaves.

When I began to get out of the car, Alison rolled down her window and said, "No. Get back in. You're going to be following us out to the compound."

"OK," I said and got back behind the wheel. About a half hour later we were pulling up to the manor house. Becky and Alison got out of their car and I got out of mine. Becky held out her hand. She was a short, solid pretty woman. "Give me your car keys," she said. I turned and looked at Alison, and she made a quick motion with her head like "Do what she says." So I handed Becky my car keys.

"Someone will take your luggage to where you are going to stay and put your car in the garage. I want you to go in the front door, take off all your clothes, fold them neatly and kneel right there in the entry way. I'll come get you in a few minutes."

"Uh, OK," I said. Becky immediately slapped my face. "That's, 'Yes ma'am,' to you, Gregg. I'm Mistress Melissa's slave, but I'm certainly not yours. She trusts me to oversee this household for her, and you will treat me with respect. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said.

"Good. Then do as you're told." Alison hadn't said a word. I went in the door, stripped and knelt where Becky had told me.

A few minutes later Becky appeared in front of me and said, "Kiss my feet, slave." I did as she asked.

"Good," she said. "Now I'm going to explain a few things to you that you need to know to be able to start living here. That's right," she said to my quizzical look. "You're going to live here starting today, as long as you are serving in this household, whether it's one week or the rest of your life. It's what you're going to have to do if you ever want to see your precious Alison again."

I nodded. "Yes, ma'am," I said. Already the decision had been taken out of my hands.

"OK, then," she said. "The first thing you've already begun to know. To you, I'm Miss Becky, and you are to address me as Miss Becky or ma'am. Is that clear?