After a move to a more high-powered job, she seeks a new challenge. That challenge is provided by the unsuspecting new recruit Stephen. That won’t be his name for much longer.
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Here’s an excerpt from the first part of the novel (copyright Lady Alexa 2016)
The Natural Order
All men should be feminised, submissive and humiliated. That was the natural order of the world according to Aretta Ademola. For any male who entered Aretta’s world, there was no other option, if you enter Aretta’s world you must live with this. Men are feminised and become her submissive servants. Aretta never failed in her objective once she identified a male target.
Aretta was relaxing in her home. She gazed out from a black leather armchair that seemed to surround her like a womb. Her vast contemporary penthouse apartment was in the Barrio de Salamanca, the smartest district in Madrid Spain. An open area of tiled flooring and sparse glossy furniture in brilliant white decorated the room. Pristine and ordered just as Aretta expected it to be. Two discrete speakers belied their size as a chorus of violins playing classical music swept though the room like a swirling roller-coaster.
A black laptop was open on the dining room table, the light from its logo casting a dull glow on the shiny surface beneath it. The apartment was furnished in an exclusive and expensive fashion and she had earnt it through single-minded focus and efficiency, her steely determination and her domination of all she came into contact with. Especially men.
“Would Mistress Ademola like anything?” Her housemaid’s voice fought against the volume of the violins filling each corner of the room, bouncing from every surface.
Aretta looked up from her smart-phone where she had been absorbed in a marketing report, the phone’s screen lighting up her ebony-toned face in the low lighting of the apartment. She shook her head from side to side slowly, her thick red lips pursed, her long wavy black hair flicking across muscular shoulders. There was no smile to accompany the negative response. Her stony face hid the satisfaction at her maid using her surname with her title: Mistress. Respect, that’s what she demanded from her maids, it wasn’t much to ask for. And obedience, blind obedience.
She continued to peer at her maid imperiously. The maid’s blond hair, too perfect and too light to be a natural colour but it was full in body and rested on wide shoulders accentuated by a thin slender body-frame. Silver drop earrings caught the light through the maid’s hair. Aretta’s eyes watched as her maid’s eyes lowered to the floor to avoid her piercing aggressive eye contact. The maid knew from extensive training not to seek direct eye contact with the Mistress. Aretta’s mouth twitched, the beginnings of a smile of satisfaction, always satisfied to see her housemaids dressed in tight black satin dresses, the smooth hairless light skinned arms looked out of place alongside the over-sized breasts. The maid’s wide shoulders were topped with a frill on each side of the dress’s arms. A brilliant white pinafore hung around the maid’s waist. The dress flared out from the maid’s waist, so short it barely covered the pink frilled knickers beneath it. It did not cover the stocking tops at all, leaving an area of bare chalky-white flesh between the knickers and the stocking tops. The smooth pale skin was broken by silky black suspender belt straps. A white frilly petticoat protruded below the hem of the little dress, rustling as the maid moved around the apartment.
Aretta’s eyes fell down the maid’s body towards the long exposed legs with pleasure. They were covered with patterned black stockings, the white flesh peeked through the widely spaced diagonal patterns and were finished in slender ankles with patent black leather shoes on delicate feet. Thin stiletto heels gave an undeserved elegance to the maid’s slender legs. The maid hadn’t always been so willowy, it had taken Aretta’s strict training programme to make it this way.
The maid waited to be dismissed, eyes swivelling one way and the other, discomforted by Aretta’s contemptuous stare and visual exploration, not that she had never experienced it before. The maid had been wearing this clothing type at Aretta’s insistence since starting to work for her over eighteen months ago. It was not negotiable. The maid could do nothing but endure the humiliation because the consequences of not doing so were worse.
Aretta waved the maid away disdainfully and returned to her work on her smart-phone.
Relief passed across the maid’s face. After a deep curtsey there was a drop of the head with eyes fixed firmly on the floor. Aretta did not acknowledge the submissive gesture but she saw it from the edge of her vision and was satisfied. Aretta missed nothing.
“Wait,” ordered Aretta suddenly. She stood up, a hand on a remote control winding the music volume down to background level as she put her face two inches from her maid’s face. Aretta could smell the cheap perfume over the top of her own expensive brand. The maid’s large pores on the face not fully disguised by a layer of light foundation. Smoky dark grey eyelids blinked rapidly on a pale face and perfectly black pencil-lined brown eyes fluttered. Aretta put a finger to her maid’s face and ran it along a strong jaw line.
“I can feel stubble here Juanita.” Her face darkened. “How many times do I have to tell you to be smooth. You are a girl now and you must have a smooth face.” Aretta never raised her voice, her assured authoritative manner made that unnecessary. She stared with undisguised disgust at the maid, head lowered, eyes narrowed. The maid cringed down, his head moving into his shoulders, eyes fixed on an imaginary spot on the wall awaiting the inevitable punishment. He didn’t know how to respond, he had been sure he had shaved smoothly, using a five blade razor in the morning and again in the afternoon just as Mistress Aretta insisted. He must have missed a bit; careless. Aretta missed nothing.
“I cannot trust you servant girl. This now means electrolysis to permanently remove your facial hair. Clearly you need something more permanent because you are so useless, you all are. Useless girls. Anyway,” she continued calmly but in a tone dripping with anger and menace. “I probably need to do something more permanent generally with you so it’s for the best in the long run.” Aretta sighed loudly at the inconvenience of having to arrange this.
“I’m so sorry Mistress, I really thought I’d..,” she cut him off with a long elegant hand towards his lips, leaving his protestation hanging sharply in the air. He could see her long talon-like dark red varnished nails.
“I don’t want to listen to your snivelling excuses you stupid girl.” She slapped him hard around his face. His hand instantly went to his reddened cheek, eyes wide with anguish. His long light pink nails on his fingernails blending with his now inflamed cheeks.
“You will stand in the corner with your panties down,” Aretta flicked her fingers together twice to snap him into action. Juanita hunched down and pulled his panties to his ankles as instructed and waddled to the corner with tiny steps impeded by the panties. A grin swept over Aretta’s face as the sight of his desperation to do as he was told and his difficulty in achieving it in stiletto heels and ankles bound by knickers.
“Candie,” Aretta called out and a second maid tottered from the kitchen area in high heels, dressed identically to Juanita. He curtsied, asking how he could serve.
“Candie, get me the large wooden spoon.” He curtsied but his eyes showed apprehension as they swept across to see his colleague Juanita in the corner. He disappeared back into the kitchen. Juanita was standing, worried, facing a corner of the apartment with his small frilly pink panties hanging loosely around his ankles, his knees touching. The shortness of his dress exposed the bottom of the cheeks of a taut naked arse. A small but bright luminous pink rubber flange of an inserted butt plug showing on the cheeks. The plug was five inches long but she would soon be switching it for one of six inches. Candie returned from the kitchen with a twelve-inch long wooden spoon, glancing momentarily at Juanita again before handing the implement to his mistress. Aretta grabbed the spoon, her sparkling blue eyes full of restrained anger. Angry but in control.
Taking the wooden spoon from Candie, Aretta strode over to Juanita with the implement held high as his head turned to see her arrival. She raised his dress hem with a manicured hand to expose his entire bottom and told him to bend over. The implement crashed down. Juanita jumped with the impact which left a spoon-shaped red welt on his bum cheek. She followed up nine further times, each time Juanita’s body jerking with the stinging pain.
Once finished she pulled him by his hair, forcing him to stand up. She spun him round to face her. They were eye to eye as she lifted the front of his dress with her dark slender hand exposing a pink cock cage firmly encased around a cock struggling to expand inside. It was held in place by a small golden padlock. Aretta gave out a “ha” as she lifted his caged cock to expose hairless balls and brought the wooden spoon down on them with a loud slap which for the first time made him stifle a scream before tears came onto his eyes, causing his mascara to begin to run down both cheeks of his face through the redness on one facial cheek.
“OK girl turn back into the corner and stay there until I tell you to leave,” she said, breathing loudly though her nose in impatience as she mumbled to herself about having to be forever managing and controlling her girls. “What do you have to say to me girl?”
“Thank you for your punishment mistress.” His head bowed, panties crumpled around slim ankles.
She returned to her black square-backed sofa and sat down picking up her phone again, the sharp white light reflecting off her deep blue eyes, the eyes that ensnared everyone. She looked at the time on the phone display screen. It was 9pm, time for dinner, she went over to the dining area and sat at the wide smoked-glass table with x-shaped wooden legs. Outside the lights from a thousand rooms in a hundred Madrid buildings twinkled though the large picture window into the low lighting on the apartment.
“Candie, bring me my dinner and a glass of red Rioja wine.”
A voice emerged from the kitchen among the clanging noises. “Yes Mistress Ademola, right away Mistress.”
“Males are such bores when they are permitted to think or give opinions or have any power,” she mused to no one in particular. “A feminised man is the only way. The benefits to the world are immense. There is no downside.”
She looked up and gazed around her apartment, a closed door to her bedroom with her own bathroom and another door, open, to the maid’s bedroom. Always open. They shared of course and had a double bed. Both cock-caged and arse-plugged, she didn’t want anything untoward happening without her control. The swish of Candie’s petticoat advertised the appearance of her food as he served her a salad dish and a plate of mixed seafood. He stood back still facing her and curtsied wishing her a good meal.
“Yes,” she thought. “This really is the only option for men. The only way.”
Aretta believed that all men were weak, all men without exception, although she held many women in contempt too. Not for their weaknesses like men because women were strong. No, she believed that many women never understood or used the genetic superiority they held over men and therefore lived incorrectly.
Aretta ruffled feathers but, as with all superstars, it was accepted by those around her due to her successes and abilities in business. She made her company money, lots and lots of money. She had few friends but many admirers not only for her business skills but also for her stunning looks. Heads would turn everywhere she went. Not only her regal beauty but her regal demeanour. She looked like a queen and she acted like a queen, a queen ruling in the court of feeble males.
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