5. Coming at you from Mission University located right on our very own campus. This is Silky Lang and I’ll be your host for the next four hours for some good times, great jokes and stories and some KEWL tunes. So just sit back and absorb this rockin’ tune. Rock on, coeds," the spot told listeners. She then pressed the play button on the CD player and listened as the track she has chosen began to play.
Next she set about pulling some more carts and CD’s to play for the next hour. Her first hour she played what she liked but after three o’clock she would start to take requests and play what the listeners wanted. She also turned and logged into the flight deck computer and messenger services that was behind her. It was linked with the Head Program Director and Michael so that they could talk to her without interrupting her show with noise. It was hard to talk while running an air show, but they could instant message back and forth with ease. It was mostly used to deliver memos and praise to the DJ and sometimes to mention a mistake that need to be corrected right away. Silky had never really used it much. She had received memos and atta-girls and thanked the sender but she had not chatted much on it otherwise.
She turned back to the soundboard, as the song was about to finish. She popped another CD in the next player and set the track she wanted. As the song came to a close, she switched on the mike, "That was Madonna. Next up we have a five play. Commercial free. But first we have a joke for all of you out there in radio land. This one comes from the computer department. Thanks guys. Okay, how many computer geeks does it take to change a light bulb? Give up? Who knows, they don’t need light to program." She pretended to laugh. "Alright folks here’s your five play as promised, and remember," she told them as she started the song, "I’ll be taking request after three, so pick a song and give me a call. This is Silky Lang for KEWL 99.5." The song took over and she shut off the mike.
As she lifted the earphone from her ear she heard the click that meant someone had sent her a message. She turned to see from who and wasn’t surprise to see it was Michael.
‘Nice,’ it said.
‘Thanks’, she typed back. She then turned around to set up the next three songs for the five-play that she was starting.
‘So tell me, when Reed would make you cum with his hand in the hallway, would that be from rubbing your clit or would he stick his finger inside you?’ Came the message with a click.
At this she blushed and typed back, ‘Both.’
‘What about Neil,’ came the next question?
She turned to start the next song and then came back and typed, ‘With a finger inside every time. He had a way of wiggling it that made me just lose it.’
‘But you have never made yourself cum this way?’ he typed
‘NO,’ she sent back.
Then she typed, ‘I don’t lie, Michael.’
"Okay emerald eyes, I believe you," was all that he wrote back.
At this she knew that their relationship did indeed exist in school. She wondered what the others would say when they found out she was dating the Assistant Program Director. Before she could think more on this, she remembered just what exactly emerald eyes meant and hastily typed, ‘Thank you, Master.’
A smiley face was her reward.
She went back to her show for the next fifteen minutes. During this time, she finished her five- play and played two commercials and one public service announcement. She was telling a funny story that was just emailed to her when she heard the messenger click again. She finished up the story and started a song to play before she turned to the computer.
‘What’s your favorite color,’ he asked.
"Emerald green and don’t laugh,’ she sent back.
‘LOL,’ came back.
Then, ‘Seriously?"
‘Yes, it looks the best on me and I really love the color,’ she typed.
"You would look divine in royal blue and bright red too, my pet,’ he replied.
She didn’t know what to say so she just typed back, ‘Okay Master.’
‘You don’t believe me?’
She typed back, ‘Yes, I believe you, but I have never really tried them so I can’t really say yes or no personally.’
‘I’ll show you later,’ was his return.
‘Yes, Master,’ she shot back and with that turned back to her show.
It was time for another story. She found one in the box and proceeded to read it on air. As she did this she sat up three more spots. She didn’t usually find the stories very funny, but since the FCC really limited what could be said on air, they didn’t have much choice. She then began a two-minute commercial break. And set up three more carts to be played in a few minutes.
After the last one played she switched on the mike for live station identification, "This is Silky Lang with KEWL 99.5. After this next commercial break I’ll play our last five- play and then it’s time for requests, so start them calls." As she told them this she popped her special request spot. "Remember kiddos keep em’clean. Now, who gives you live requests every weekday from three to six?" She then played the cart, which was a bunch of college kids screaming KEWL 99.5 and switched off the mike. When it ended she started the next set of spots and set up three more to play while she put away the CDs and carts she had already played. DJs had to keep their space clean or they would end up with a mess that usually caused delays and dead air. Neatness was a must.
Next she set up 4 CDs to play and waited while for the last spot to play out, when it did she pressed play on the first CD player. She then began to set up the recorder to record requests. Most people didn’t know that when they called into a radio station for a live request, the call was recorded and played back later. There were several reasons for doing this. One was for censorship. In case someone said something they shouldn’t, they could bleep it out or choose not the play the call. Next was to give the DJ time to find the song as to give the appearance of having it at their fingertips, ready to play. That’s way DJs seemed to be able to start the song during the call. This made the listener feel like they were number one even if for only a few seconds. With this all ready, she sat and waited to begin the next CD.
Michael walked into the flight deck and she smiled up at him. Damn he was so sexy, she thought. She wondered what he wanted.
"The live request thing is really working out. I’m glad we talked the Head PD into it," he told her.
Beaming at this, she replied, "Yes. Thank you for help with that too. I could never have talked him into it without you."
"It was a good idea and I heard you make it work at your home town radio station. I’m glad you brought it to me. You have made it a success when others have failed," he told her.
She was glowing at this point from the praise he was giving her, "I made it work by recording each call and playing them back. Others tried to do them live. Live never works. Too many potty mouths out there," she told him.
"Well, anyway, I’m off to the cafeteria for a soda, want one?" He asked.
"Yes, I was too sidetracked to remember to bring one," she told him with a wink, "But make mine water. I don’t drink a lot of soda."
"I knew that actually. I would have brought you one even if you hadn’t of said so," he said as he walked out the door.
As he walked away, he thought to himself. He was really glad thing were working out so well with Silk. He really felt a connection that went much deeper than the Master and slave relationships, much deeper than even sex. He felt that she could be the one. Instinctively he knew he would give all of the lifestyle up if that was what Silk wanted, but he was delighted that she wanted that side of Michael too. With this thought in mind, he noticed a spring to his step and wondered if anyone else saw it. He could wait to take her shopping tonight. What a grand time they would have.
He was getting his soda from the machine when he noticed that a couple girls were watching him. He was used to this. Due to his looks and his parent’s money, women seemed attracted to him. Sometimes he really hated it. That was brought him into the lifestyle in the first place. When he was eighteen, he wanted girls to like him for something other than money. He met this older lady who was a Dominatrix and she showed Michael that some people wanted things that didn’t involve money. Michael spent a year as her sex slave, learning everything she had to teach. Then she decided that Michael would make a better Dom than a slave, something secretly Michael had already figured out, but knew that the best Dominants were once slaves themselves.
So she began his instruction like all in their group, first Michael was her slave, then she sent him off for switch training which led to Dom training. By this time Michael was already so into the lifestyle, that normal sex held no fascination for him in the least and Michael wondered if it really ever did. He could still perform normal sex and even enjoyed it, but it never gave him total pleasure, until last night. Last night with Silk, they did it twice in a very normal way and he was totally satisfied each time. This told him what he already knew in his heart and mind; Silk was different. She was special in more ways than one.
While he pondered this thought, the girls had approached him and he looked up to find two very nervous girls wanting to talk to him. "Yes," he asked in a commanding tone, ever the Dom.
"Sir may we talk to you in private?" the bravest one asked.
Amused at this sort of thing, he nodded to the door and said, "Okay, but there isn’t that much privacy on a campus of 6500 students, this way little ones." He then led them out the side door in to a deserted corridor.
"Okay what did you two want?" He asked of them.
The brave one spoke up again. "Well Sir, we were guests at the party last month at Sir Paul’s. We saw you there and remembered you from school."
At this he smiled. So they were slaves. He glanced to their necks and saw no collars. No owners, he thought, "And," he prodded.
"Well Sir," the other one stuttered, "We wondered if you were in the market for a pair of slaves. We are not owned and are in need of a Dom to serve. We would like to become your slaves as we noticed that you didn’t seem to claim ownership of any in particular."
His first thought was to decline thinking on how Silk would take it. Then he thought why not, she would have to learn that she had to share. He could take these two on for a while, and then give them to a deserving Dom later. They could help him train her. With this in mind, he said, "Why don’t you two follow me to my office, where we can have total privacy."
He led them to the station. He neared the flight deck and thought for a second that he should take them to his office without letting Silk see them. Then changing his mind he thought, no Silk was the slave and he the Master. She would just accept.
"Wait here," he told the two just outside the door to the flight deck, "I have to drop something off."
He went in the flight deck and handed her the water. She was on the air and gave him the wait signal. He looked back at the two girls who were whispering to each other. They were rather cute. They looked like slaves too. He liked their outfits too, very sluty, which is how he liked his slaves personally. They both had on short plaid skirts, one blue the other a red with suspenders. Both wore white half shirts and white stockings that stopped just a few inched below the hem of their skirts and high-heeled shoes. Some would call this a schoolgirl outfit. Michael called it pure sexy.
"Who are the bimbos?" Silk questioned him as she switched off the mike, a hint of jealousy in her voice
Anger flared up in him at her brazen comment. "Slaves, my pet," he stated simply.
"Whose?" She seemed to demand.
"Mine, emerald eyes, mine," was his harsh reply as he walked out the door.
She watched as he led them away to his office, not knowing what to make of what he had just said but knowing it wasn’t her place to question him, especially since he had just put her in her place. She thought on this as she ran the rest of her show. She remembered that in the book, the Master had more than one slave and she also remembered Michael telling her that his friend Starla had a few slaves and Baron too. Maybe this was normal. She still felt a little jealousy though.
Then the thought came to her. Maybe this was a test. Maybe she was to prove herself to Michael. With this in mind she decided that she would prove herself with whatever it took. The bimbo twosome would not take Michael from her without a fight. With that in mind she went back to her show.
Michael led them to his office and shut the door behind them, a sign to others not to disturb him. He took his seat behind the desk. "Kneel," he ordered.
They both gracefully dropped to the position, even thought the floor was slightly dirty, without question. Michael liked that.
"Now, what are your names?"
"Slave Syndee Sir," the first one answered.
"Slave Stacey Sir," came the timid response of the second.
Michael noticed that they never lifted their eyes to him while they spoke. They were well trained.
"You will call me Sir or Sir Michael for the time being. I have one other slave presently, but she is very new to this. You will help in training her," he told them.
"Yes Sir," they chorused in unison.
"I have many rules, but we will go in to them later. I have only one rule for you at this moment. There are no ranks in my home. You are equal in that you are all slaves. I will not abide any petty jealousies or foolish games that jealous slaves play. Is that clear," he asked.
"Yes Sir," again came their answers in tandem.
"Okay, tell me about yourself, slave Syndee," he told her.
"Well, Sir, I’m twenty-three. I come from Washington. I have blond hair and gray eyes. I’m five foot six and weight one hundred and fifteen pounds. I’ve been a slave for four years. I have a list of my limits for you at home; I can supply you with them at your earliest convenience, Sir," Syndee told him, wondering what else to add.
Stacey spoke up next with a slightly nervous stutter, "Sir, I am also from Washington. I’m twenty-four and have been a slave for four years also. I’m five foot seven and weigh one twenty-five. I am a natural red head and have green eyes. I too have a list of limits available for you, Sir."
"Can you email them to me tonight," he asked of them.
"Yes Sir," again they answered.
"Okay, nice, very nice. I’m pleased at your level of experience. You will work out fine in my house," he informed them. "So are you two bi?" He asked next.
"Yes Sir, we are Sir," answered Syndee.
"Slave Stacey, are you just shy or are you afraid of me for some reason," he asked, not liking her timid attitude.
"No Sir, just very submissive. I have found that most Doms like this in a slave. If you don’t I will change. I am actually much bolder than Syndee, Sir," she answered with more of a clear and braver tone.
"You will address each other and slave Silk as slave whatever their name is. Is that clear?" He ordered.
"Yes Sir."
All right, when can we get together? I am free all weekend," he informed them.
"We are free all weekend also, Sir," Syndee told him.
"Only speak for yourself, slave."
Chastised, she rephrased her response, "Sorry Sir, I am free all weekend, Sir."
In a strong clear voice that almost surprised him, Stacey spoke, "I am free also, all weekend, Sir."
"Good, how about coming over tomorrow afternoon around three? We can all get to know each other and eat a bite. I will have had time to go over your limit lists and we can play a little if everyone is comfortable, maybe go out for a bit. As I said you will also be helping to train slave Silk too. Again please don’t mistake that as rank of any kind. I have already stated that there is no rank among my slaves. You are all three equal in my eyes, except that you two have experience," he asked of them.
"That would be great Sir," Syndee told him.
Yes Sir, I would be pleased to do that for you, Sir" Stacey told him.
"Alright, if you have no other questions, you may go."
"One question Sir," Stacey asked.
"Yes," he said turning towards her again.
"Is slave Silk a student here also, Sir?" She asked.
"Not that it is really any of your business slave Stacey, but yes. You have already seen her actually," he told her.
"Sir, is she here now? May we meet her before we go, Sir?" Syndee asked, jumping in.
Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was almost six. Silk would be done is just a few minutes. He would have her come in and meet the two girls. He wanted to see how she would act. She seemed almost jealous earlier, time to call her to the carpet so to speak. Turning to his computer, he told them, "Yes that would be possible and a good idea." He then typed a message to Silk.
The computer clicked behind her and she read, ‘Emerald eyes, come directly to my office after your show.’
‘Yes Master,’ was her reply.
Then she added, ‘Out,’ which meant she was signing off now.
She then turned back to Marcy and evaded her questions about the night before. Finishing up her show, she began to gather her stuff and put stuff away.
"Come on, Bennett, your holding out. Did you with Michael or what?" Marcia whined.
Or what, crossed her mind, thinking that Marcy would scream if she told her the truth of what went on last night. Finally she supplied, "We spent the night together, that’s all I am telling you."
"Oh no, you have to at least tell me if he was a stud or a dud," Marcy informed her.
Silk had finished gathering up and cleaning up and was setting some commercial spots to play in the same manner that Donny had done when she came to relieve him. It would give Marcy the time to get set, as it had done for her at the onset of her show. She had a devilish smile on her face all the while and as she traded places with Marcy, she whispered, "Stud, most assuredly stud." She then laughed and walked out of the flight deck and leaving Marcy to sigh.
She stopped at the desk next to the flight deck and repacked her stuff back into her backpack. She then turned her mind to Michael’s office. She wondered of those girls were still there. Setting her stuff on the floor next to the desk, she steeled herself and prepared to enter Michael’s office as ordered. She would show them that she was proud if nothing else.
She went to his office and gave a knock at the door, as was the rule when his door was shut. She also informed him that it was she knocking.
"Come in," came his order.
She let herself in and saw that the other two were indeed there. They were also in the kneel position next to Michael. She felt that jealously again. She then remembered her place and looked up to Michael briefly and then dropped her eyes to the floor, "Yes Master?"
"Kneel," was his only reply.
She dropped as smoothly to kneel as she could, hoping she looked graceful. She tried not to let the resentment and jealously show.
"Introduce yourselves, my slaves," Michael ordered.
Not sure what to say, she let the others take the lead.
"My name is slave Syndee, I am pleased to meet you slave Silk," the blond one began looking directly at her.
"Silk, you may meet the eyes of another slave," Michael told her.
She lifted her eyes to the blond girl, trying hard not to let resentment show.
"I’m hoping to gain the right to serve Sir Michael and wear his collar soon. I also look forward to becoming your slave sister," Syndee finished.
"And I am slave Stacey. I am very happy to meet you slave Silk. What a lovely name you have too. Did Sir Michael name you?" The redhead said to her.
"No, it is my name," she said not sure what the redhead was talking about.
"Silk or actually Silky is her Christian name, slave Stacey. Her parents named her that," supplied Michael.
Stacey finished up, "I am also hoping to serve Sir Michael and wear his collar too. I also hope to be very good slave sisters with you."
Silk risked a quick glance to Michael and saw that he was overly pleased with himself. This shot her full of spiteful pride and she addressed the two before her looking them both in the eyes, with a strong voice. "I am, slave Silk. It is nice to meet you both also. I will serve Master Michael and wear his collar soon."
Laughing at her remark, Michael added, "She will also have a sore red bottom later to go with her attitude. Now apologize for your rudeness to your sisters, slave."
Feeling the sting and weight of his words, she replied, "Yes Master. I am sorry. Please forgive my rudeness, sisters." She added the last word in hopes of pleasing Michael.
"All right, now we all know one another." He said and he sat up and grabbed a slip of paper. Writing his address and number on, he gave it to Syndee. "Here is my address and number. Call if you need directions. We shall see you at three," he told them.
"Yes Sir. See you then," Syndee answered as she read the slip he had gave her. "Oh and may we have your email address Sir? So we can email you those lists tonight."
"He wrote it on another slip and handed it to her. "Yes, I had almost forgotten. Anything else?"
"No Sir," they chorused again.
"Okay you may stand and you are excused. See you tomorrow," he told them.
"Thank you Sir. See you tomorrow, Sir," Syndee said.
"Yes thank you Sir and see you tomorrow slave Silk," Stacey offered.
They stood up and left the office. Michael watched as Silk still knelt on the floor after they left. Her head was lowered in what seemed defeat. Michael wondered what she was thinking. He knew by her earlier attitude and words that she was extremely jealous. In one way he didn’t care. He was the Dom here, she would just have to learn to deal with these things if this is what she wanted, but a part of him felt her pain and hated to have to be the cause of it. The knowledge that they would not be permanent helped ease his conscience. He would let Silk think that they would be around for a while during her training thought. It helped a slave to give her all if she thought she might be second best. He decided then not to tell her that there was no rank among her sister slaves. Let her compete a little to be his favorite. He made a mental note to tell the other two girls not to say anything to her about rank. He needed to have a private conversation with those two again before anything went any farther tomorrow.
He finished clearing up his desk and glanced at the clock on the wall. 6:30 it read. Good, he thought, time to go shopping. He looked over to her again and saw that she was really in a pout about the whole thing, time to put an end to this once and for all. "Silk, stand up and come over here," he told her in a not so gentle voice.
She stood, and came over to him. He pulled her down on his lap and hugged her to his chest. This made her feel better instantly. She knew that she was being silly, but she just couldn’t help it. She was not usually a jealous person either. She lifted her face finally and looked in his eyes. She always felt she could read a person’s eyes pretty well. What she saw in Michael’s made her heart beat faster. It also made her feel better. She decided that she could deal with this and quit acting like a jealous lover.
Michael saw her face and knew that she was feeling better. He hoped that when she looked in his eyes, she saw the love projected to her in them. She seemed to and smiled to him finally. "Are you ready to go shopping little one," he asked her?
"Yes Master," she said as she turned around, "But before we go, I think I need some more ointment on my tattoo. It feels dry. Could you help me?"
Mentally he cursed himself as he lifted her shirt. Why hadn’t he remembered? It might hurt after being rubbed while she sat in the chair during her show. "Yeah it’s dry. Does it hurt?" He asked of her as he touched it gingerly.
"Not really. It just feels a little raw and tight, but I figured it was because it was dry," she told him.
Feeling bad, he told her, "I am sorry, I should have remembered that. I knew that the chair and your shirt would rub against you and rub all the ointment off. I should have looked at it when you first came in. Forgive me little one. Get your stuff and I put some on for you."
She went out of the office and got her jacket and backpack. Bringing it back to his office, she retrieved the tube of ointment from her pocket. As she entered his office, she sat her stuff down on one of the chairs and then came around the desk. She handed him the stuff and then turned around and lifted her shirt. She prepared herself for the lightening blots that would shoot straight to her core once he began to touch her tat.
He squeezed a big drop onto his finger, and then smeared it on her tat. He heard her sharp intake of breath. "Does it hurt?" He asked concerned.
"No," came a strangled answer from her.
Then it dawned on him that she was turned on earlier by him touching it. She must be feeling the same thing again. He wanted to explore this further, but they needed to go so he could make it to his favorite lingerie shop before eight. All the other places he wanted to go were open till midnight or longer, but Madame’s closed early. She carried the best stuff especially slave outfits. Michael hadn’t found better anywhere in the world. With that in mind, he finished coating her tattoo and with a kiss just above it he handed her back her ointment. "All right, how’s that feel," he asked?
"Much better," she purred. She took the ointment and went over and stuck it back in her pocket. What now she wondered as she turned back to him.
Michael had stood up and was looking at her. She smiled at him. He knew she wondered want was going to happen next and liked keeping her in suspense. He then turned and grabbed his leather jacket off the back of his chair. "Let’s go, my pet," he told her and turned to walk out the door.
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