New clothes to wear

“Oh Mr. P,” Alison shudders in my arms just barely able to support herself. “The things you make me feel...”

“You like that?” Her eyes drop to the floor, but there is no mistaking the satisfaction on her face. “You are exactly the kind of Earthgirl I'd want to bring home and train into a hot pleasure ****.”

“Are you going to keep me in chains, Sir, so I don't run away?” The image of her naked body chained in a dimly lit cell pops into my mind.

In the John Norman's world, raw slaves were held in this kind of cruel captivity so I understand why Alison asks, but that's not really the kind of **** ownership I am interested in.

“No, Angel.” I tenderly brush a strand of her blonde hair from her face. “Where would you run to? If anyone found you they'd know immediately that you were an escaped ****. An honest man would return you, and a scoundrel would claim you for themselves.” I grin wickedly, “You see, no need to chain you, you've got nowhere to go.”

“Mr. P, you're so cruel.” Alison doesn't seem at all alarmed by the discovery that she is in the clutches of a wicked man like me. “You'd keep your new **** here in your house, naked and at your beck-and-call?”

“Would you like that, Honey?” I ask gently, “Do you think that, in time, you could learn to be a good little **** for your master?” Once again the tell-tale signs of arousal are hard to miss. The normally smooth skin of her arms are covered with tiny goose-bumps, and her nipples are peaked in tight puckers. “Well, Angel, I can't have you walking around naked all day, but I think I have some old rags you can wear.”

“Please Mr. P. Don't tease me.” Her hands clutched at my shoulders and she pressed even closer to me. “Aren't you going to fuck me, make your new **** please you with her tender body?” She wiggles against me seductively. “You might have to be firm with me the first few times until I learn that you are too strong for me to fight.” The image of taming a **** new **** and fucking her until she was completely mine made my cock twitch once again in my pants, but I really liked the idea of keeping her wanting more.

“Not yet.” I tell her, “Don't worry. I'll put you to good use, and not just in the kitchen, either.” I directed her to wait on her knees as I headed to the basement and I didn't even bother to check that she had complied with the command. It took me only a few minutes rummaging in my basement to find the roll of old burlap I bought a dozen years ago to wrap my fruit trees in during a particularly cold winter. I cut a six foot length and brought the bundle of scratchy fabric up to where Alison was waiting anxiously on her knees just as I instructed.

“Here, girl.” I toss the burlap to her, “you can wear this about the house.”

It is a tribute to just how beautiful my young tenant is that even wrapped in dusty old sack-cloth she looks sexier than most of the models in Victoria's Secret.