A tall, muscular man stood just outside the doorway. He seemed to be about the same age as Mr. Stone, and he had a handsome face that seemed very calm and friendly.
"I am James," the butler and chauffeur he said in a deep, quiet voice. "I am to escort you to Mr. Stone's study. Please take my arm Miss, and walk with me." Pam took small, careful steps to position herself beside James. She took his arm, and they walked down the hall with the slow, measured steps used by butlers all over the world for hundreds of years. Pam concentrated on moving in time with James' steps so that she could gain balance and support from his massive body while she learned to walk in the spike heels. By making sure her steps were synchronized with the butler's, Pam found that she could move so that an observer would think she was gliding gracefully across the floor. They would never guess that she was struggling to keep from falling. Pam decided that she must try to look like her costume did not bother her, and she would try to smile and not look embarrassed or miserable so that Mr. Stone would not be able to gloat too much. By the time they reached the study, Pam had almost mastered the art of walking in the tall heels, but the height tightened her calves so much that her legs and feet were already showing signs that painful cramps might knot the muscles any minute.
James knocked twice on a large oak door. A small red light above the knob went out, and a green one blinked on. James opened the door, and ushered Pam inside. The door was wide enough for them to walk through side by side. Pam felt like a princess being conducted into the throne room of a king. She could feel the strength of James' arm, and that helped calm her fears and control her shaky knees.
She tried to stand up straight, and walk as gracefully and proudly as possible, since her costume did not allow her to cover herself. Young as she was, Pam knew that Mr. Stone could only take away her clothing. He could not take her dignity unless she became so upset from being exposed to his gaze that she gave up her self respect. Pam concentrated hard, and fought to control her unruly emotions and the havoc they played with her coordination. She took a deep breath, and found some measure of steadiness deep inside herself. She consciously brightened her smile, and tried to walk like a princess as James escorted her across the room. Pam had to work so hard just to walk that she could not look around as James led her toward Mr. Stone, so she tried to focus directly on her teacher's eyes.
Mr. Stone was seated in a large leather chair. He was wearing comfortable, casual clothes so that he looked much more commanding than he did at school.
There was a roaring fire burning in the largest stone fire place Pam had ever seen.
As she stood still for his inspection, Pam saw that the room was huge. Three walls were lined with floor to ceiling book shelves. On the other wall, the fire place was flanked by paintings that were clearly originals. James stood quietly beside her, looking straight ahead. When Mr. Stone looked up from his book, he said, "Yes, James?"
The big man replied quietly, "Sir, Miss Pamela."
"Thank you James, you may go," Mr. Stone replied.
Pam quickly controlled her impulse to gawk. She brought her eyes in focus again on Mr. Stone's face, and forced herself to stand absolutely still before him.
After the big door closed behind James, Mr. Stone said, "Pamela, I want you to stand directly in front of my chair, and no more than three feet away." The girl fought down a new attack of panic, and moved to the location he directed. "Now turn slowly toward your left, and continue turning until I tell you to stop," he instructed. Pam felt the revealing costume did so little to hide her body, and in fact made it into a sexual object so completely that she thought she might be more comfortable completely naked. She did not object though, and began turning very slowly so that he could examine her. Pam completed five full turns that each lasted nearly a minute. She was not sure she could keep herself from falling apart under the intensity of her teacher's gaze.
Finally, just before she was facing him squarely again, he said, "You may stop now Pamela."
He looked at her face, trying to read her feelings, then he said, "You have done well so far, child." Pam did not know why, but she was angry. Her frown did not go un-noticed, and Mr. Stone smiled at her in a way that made Pam so angry she wanted to hit the man. "You looked at yourself in the mirror before you left your room, and you thought you saw a grown woman, didn't you, my dear. You are upset with me for calling you 'child'."
Pam could not keep quiet, even though she knew she should. "Of course I am angry with you, you lecherous old goat. I deserve to be punished, but just make me clean your toilets and then leave me alone."
Mr. Stone just kept looking at her and smiling while he told her, "You really don't want me to leave you alone. You want me to look at you as a woman and treat you as a woman. You want me to take your virginity from you most of all."
Pam nearly screamed at him for his insulting presumption that she might find him acceptable as a man and the even greater insult in the implication that she might want him to touch her.
She raged inside, but she knew she could never win an argument with her teacher. She was even more furious with him because everything he had said to her had been completely true. She did feel more like a woman now than ever before in her life. She did want him to look at her as a woman, not a child, and she did want to know what it felt like for a woman to have a man deep inside her. Pam was so confused now she could hardly speak, but just when she thought she finally had herself back under control, Mr. Stone showed her a paper.
"Please read this document, Pamela," Mr. Stone told her.
Pam felt like her eyes were going to explode when she took the paper in her hands and forced herself to focus on the words printed there. She felt like she was going to scream, and then she thought she was going to faint as she read the words aloud to Mr. Stone from the document her mother and father had signed. It was quite clear that her parents had sold her to Mr. Stone. The document said that Mr. Stone would feed, clothe and educate her until she had a Doctoral degree, or its equivalent. In addition, he would pay her parents $100,000 cash. Mr. Stone handed her a small tape recorder, and told her to push the "PLAY" button.
When she did, Pam heard her mother's voice trying to explain to her that they could not support her or give her the kind of education she deserved, and needed to survive in the modern world. Pam could hear both of her parents sobbing by the time the tape ended, but she was not impressed.
No matter what they said, her parents had sold her to a dirty old man with a grudge against her. Pam nearly lost it at that point, but she was a very intelligent girl, and she realized that she had no idea how Mr. Stone would respond if she started screaming at him. She knew that if she acted nasty, he might make her punishment even worse, so she bit her lower lip and kept quiet.
Now the reason for the room, the door locked from the outside, and the clothes that fit her exactly were clear to Pam, Mr. Stone intended to keep her there for a long time.
Mr. Stone sat down in his chair, and pulled a low stool close to it, motioning to the shaken girl he said, "Please sit down Pamela, I am sure you have several questions you would like me to answer."
Pam fought harder than ever to control herself, and quietly walked toward him and sat down where he had indicated. She was aware that he could see her naked pussy when she sat down, but that really didn't seem to matter much just then. Pam knew that if he intended to rape her, she would not be able to stop him, and she would not be able to escape. She thought he would have done it already if that was his plan. Pam decided all she could do was try to obey him and hope he would not force her.
"I am 18, can my parents legally sell me?" Pam asked, as coolly as she was able.
"Your parents did not sell you dear," he said in that annoying, lecture voice Mr. Stone used when he thought you did not know something EVERYONE ought to know. "You are really what might be called an indentured servant. I am responsible for caring for you and providing you with an education. You will work for me until I have recovered the sum paid to your parents in the value of your work, and I have fulfilled my obligations to you. First you will be learning the duties of a maid, so that you will understand your real options in this world completely. Then if you are able to learn to perform those tasks PERFECTLY, I will teach you the skills you will need to be my research assistant. Of course you realize that you will not be leaving this house for you instruction. I have taught in the public schools as a service to the community, not because I needed the money. I have resigned to devote all of my time to your education. Since you are over 18, you are not required to be in public school."
"I have set up your records to show a transfer into a private school. By the way, everyone at good old Warren G. Harding High thinks you ran off to Hollywood. Bets are 8 to 5 you will be doing porno flicks or hooking on Sunset Boulevard within a week. Legally, you are my ward, and I am your guardian."
"As long as I am providing you with a full time educational program, I have complete legal custody of you, even if it takes 20 years to educate you to my satisfaction. The agreement with your parents is quite legal, and impossible to break. You see, they had you declared incompetent so they could put you away. You gave them so much grief, they were half crazy from the stress. They are not as strong as some people."
"They meant well though, so don't be too hard on them. At least they realized they could not manage in time to try to save you."
"I do not choose to believe the garbage you are spouting." Pam jumped at the sound of her own voice. Had she really become such a disagreeable bitch? Mr. Stone picked up a remote control and pressed a few buttons. Suddenly, a ten foot television screen dropped down from the ceiling.
Pam was shocked to see her face filling the screen. As she watched and listened to herself, the image seemed to change from a beautiful young woman to an ugly old hag. The sound of her voice changed too. The expression on her face had completely destroyed all of her beauty, and the horrible voice hurt her ears. Pam thought that her teacher must have used some kind of special effects to fool her, but she made herself ask politely to see the tape again. When Mr. Stone started the tape, Pam saw that nothing had been done to alter the sound or the image.
"I didn't know I made myself so ugly!" Pam exclaimed. "I have been trying to keep under control because I wasn't sure how you would punish me, but I just can't seem to do it by myself." Mr. Stone smiled at the lovely girl and said softly, "Then you do agree you need help my dear?"
"Yes Sir," Pam responded simply.
"Can you believe that I want to help you Pamela?"
"Yes Mr. Stone."
"Will you put yourself in my care so that I can help you?" the teacher asked. "Yes Sir," Pam responded. "I know I am lazy and pig headed Mr. Stone. I know I need someone strong, like you to make me behave myself. Please help me so I don't turn into a lonely, ugly old hag," the girl begged.
"If I agree to help you Pamela, you must promise me you will obey me without question. You must also understand fully that if you do not obey immediately, perfectly, and cheerfully you will be punished. I will be the only judge of what is appropriate punishment for your disobedience, there will be no appeal, and I will carry out my sentences personally and immediately. I will not permanently injure you, but I may find it helpful to cause you to experience some pain if I should feel I do not have your full attention when I am helping you correct your behavior."
Pam looked shocked, but she realized she needed help badly, so she said, "Yes Mr. Stone, I understand."
Peter Stone was elated. He had the girl started on the path he had been obsessed with since she had teased him with her nubile body the very first time. He hoped that whatever Gods there might be would forgive him for ruining her father's company just so he could buy the girl. He felt that his intervention was justified though because the rebellious girl was more than her parents could possibly handle, and would have caused them major heartaches in the future.
Now he began his carefully planned program of education and re-training he had developed just for this girl. "Pamela, you will not understand the purpose of everything I tell you to do. I often will tell you why I wish you to do something, but at times, I will not have time. At other times, I may not wish you to know my purpose until you have taken the time and thought to figure it out for yourself. In any case, you will obey me in all things, or you will be punished. Is that clear Pamela?"
"Yes Sir," the girl answered.
"Good. Now we will begin your education. Why do I want you to learn to be a PERFECT maid?" the teacher asked.
"I don't know Sir," Pam replied.
"Your first task will be to question yourself constantly as you are being taught to be a perfect maid, as to why you need this training."
"As soon as you develop a hypothesis, you will phrase it concisely and present your speculation to me the instant you believe you have phrased it understandably. Since this is the most important lesson you need to learn, you will call me any time of the day or night that you discover the answer. If your hypothesis is not correct but shows careful thought, I will provide additional learning experiences for you to consider as you continue to search for the answer. If your attempt shows no thought, and is sloppy, you will find that I am much less understanding."
"Will I know what the punishment for each type of mistake will be?" Pam asked.
"Always thinking, I see. Not as profitably as you might, but perhaps there is hope for you. No, Pamela you will not know ahead of time how I will punish you. I don't punish mistakes, but I will punish disobedience and sloth severely. I have no interest in jail house lawyer games, so don't try to play them with me. If I even suspect you have the delusion that you can fool or manipulate me, your punishment will be swift and severe."
"I have never had to deal with someone as strict as you Mr. Stone. Please be patient with me."
Peter laughed in Pam's face and told her, "Don't think you can flatter your way past me either missy. Do you know why your uniform is designed as it is?"
"I think it is to show me you can tell me what to wear or make me do anything you want to. I also think it is to humiliate me and is part of my punishment for teasing you in class."
Pam said this quietly and politely, then she looked down at the floor, expecting the worst.
"If your punishment for shooting beaver at me was the only issue here you would be correct. Think about how being trained as a maid is different from being punished for being a tease," Mr. Stone said. "I don't understand why I need to learn to be a maid, so I can't find the difference, Sir," Pam answered.
"Well keep thinking about it until you know," Mr. Stone said with a grin.
"Pamela, can you tell me what time it is?" Mr. Stone said this in a way that made Pam shiver, but she wasn't sure why.
"It is 6:45 Mr. Stone." Pam froze at the sound of her own voice. She knew she had been instructed to serve dinner at precisely at 6:00. Now it was 6:45, and she had not even begun to prepare anything. "I forgot Mr. Stone. I was so interested in talking with you, I forgot." Pam was shuddering with fear. She simply did not know what Mr. Stone might do.
"Pamela, there are no excuses here. I do not expect to hear anything like an excuse from you ever again. Do you understand dear?"
Pam heard her own voice saying, "Yes Sir," very softly.
Mr. Stone placed a gold watch on her wrist. Small diamonds circled the dial, and five large ones formed a bar on each side. "You can't be expected to know what time it is without a watch. It is a very different thing to have a watch and 'forget' to wear it. Do you understand the difference Pamela?"
Pam looked at Mr. Stone, and her face softened a tiny bit.
"Thank you for the watch Sir," the girl said in a soft, breathy voice. "It is one thing to lack tools, but another thing all together not to use the tools you have been given," Pam answered quickly, almost without thinking.
"That is correct," Mr. Stone replied. "Now Pamela, why do you need to be punished?"
Pam was shocked to hear herself say, "I did not ask you for the time. Your watch is large, so I noticed you were wearing one right away."
"Correct again. I do believe there may be some living brain cells inside your head," Mr. Stone said. "For your punishment, I am going to teach you a lesson about waiting."
Her teach quietly that Pam was immediately aware she would not be able to talk him out of anything.
"First, you will learn to wait to find out what your punishment will be. I will have James show you to the kitchen. There are instructions posted there for you. You will follow those instructions exactly. Ten minutes before the food is ready to be served, you will buzz for James to escort you back to the study with the place settings required."
Mr. Stone continued his instructions as Pam tried hard to concentrate so that she could remember each detail. "You will also bring the wine to me so that I can open the bottle and allow it to breathe. You will mix my before dinner drink at the bar here in the study, then you will return to the kitchen and bring our dinner back to the study. I will give you further instructions at that time."
Pam could not believe how detailed his instructions were, and she was shocked at how meekly she obeyed him.
There was something about Mr. Stone that made her feel she must obey him. She knew he really would punish her too, and that certainty made Pam anxious to please him. James led her to a wonderful kitchen that seemed to be built in two sections. The first was a cozy, farm house kitchen. Pam guessed it was for use when only a few were to be served. The largest section was a complete four star restaurant kitchen.
Every bit of each kitchen was spotlessly clean.
The air was fresh too, with no hint of unpleasant odors from garbage or incomplete cleaning. Pam saw the list of instructions in the country kitchen.
Before he left, James said, "Miss Pamela, you must remember to call me when you are ready to serve dinner to Master Peter. It would not be safe for you to be wandering around the house by yourself. Some of the built-in defenses can be quite nasty, and the triggers are not easy to avoid." Then James showed her the location of the button that paged him, and the control panel for communicating with the rest of the house.
On the monitor of the control panel, one could view the room selected. Pam pushed the button to turn on the picture and sound from the study.
"Thank you for joining me Pamela," she heard Mr. Stone say. "I am listening to some Bach this evening. I hope you will enjoy the music while you prepare dinner." Then Mr. Stone turned back to his book, sank back into the big chair, and seemed not to notice her any more.
Pam was sure he was watching her though. She was surprised at the quality of the sound as the intercom system brought the organ notes swelling up into the kitchen and the music swirled through the room. Sometimes the notes were like swallows, gracefully swooping and gliding through the air. At other times, they reminded Pam of a swarm of angry bees chasing a clumsy hiker into a mountain lake.
The time passed pleasantly for her as she followed Mr. Stone's instructions and prepared their dinner. It was a simple, light but nourishing meal. The way that it was assembled with style made it an elegant feast for the eyes as well as the palate.
Pam noted right away that only the finest ingredients were stocked in the pantry. She saw the attention to detail that had gone into every aspect of the kitchen. The design was perfect so that there was no wasted space, and no extra traffic was required during preparation. Even the shopping, stocking of the pantry, and the refrigerator were precise. Pam understood that there was a beauty to this precision, and she tried as hard as she could to make sure all of her contributions to the meal were perfect too. This made her wonder about the lessons Mr. Stone would be teaching her. She also started to wonder if she might be happier being Mr. Stone's maid than being a lonely high school or college student.
As she prepared the meal, Pam found she could not keep from glancing at the monitor every few seconds.
She thought to herself, "Mr. Stone is really good looking and in great shape for his age." Pam also found herself wondering more and more often what it would be like to lose her virginity to Peter Stone. Pam knew a lot of girls talked in the locker room about creaming their panties over some cute guy, but she had never had any clearly sexual feelings before. Now, she became aware of an aching longing she couldn't put a label on.
There was an emptiness inside that seemed to need filling very badly, but she could not think of how to fill the void, and she could not think of what might be causing her strange new feelings. She was becoming aware of an increasing curiosity about Mr. Stone's body.
She also that when her mind started thinking about what was under Mr. Stone's clothes, she started to feel squishy when she moved. At first she though the stress of the day had made her get her period early, but after she checked herself, Pam realized that the wetness in her vagina was being triggered by her thoughts about her teacher. When she tried to visualize his body naked, or tried to picture herself touching his prick, the juices in her pussy flowed freely, spilled out and dripped down her legs. Pam could not concentrate on her work in the kitchen, so finally, she had to turn the monitor off. She was terrified that Mr. Stone would be able to see or smell the remnants of her excitement, but she was afraid to use kitchen towels to clean herself.
Another problem was becoming an urgent priority for her too. Pam had to pee very badly. Her bladder was painfully full, but she could not find a restroom that opened off the kitchen.