Irina's Nasty Surprise

This story continues on from "Irina Is Sent to School". This chapter works as a stand-alone story.

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Valeriya prided herself that she could turn any boy or girl into an obedient slave given time. So was gratified that during the course, Irina had discovered a previously unknown submissive side to her personality. She would now make an extremely attractive slave or 'companion'.

Irina had felt surge of confidence as she changed from her skimpy uniform into her normal Chanel. As she put on her earrings and pearl chocker, she realised how much they meant to her. She looked great and knew it. All the tutors and her fellow students had congregated on the veranda as Valeriya presented her with a certificate that she was now qualified as a 'Domestic slave'. The atmosphere was happy and relaxed.

As Irina circulated, she displayed her old easy charm; having a nice word and appropriate joke for everyone. It was such a relief to be back in control.

As she looked on, Valeriya realised how much she had grown to like Irina. So it was heartening that Irina responded to her heartfelt hug. Valeriya desperately hoped this might mean her affection was reciprocated. It deeply saddened her that they were very unlikely ever to meet again. But losing your favourite students was the curse of every devoted teacher.

After the final goodbyes, Irina was relieved to get into the back of the Mercedes. Kirill, the chauffeur, was normally chatty; in fact, he tended to be so ingratiating it irritated. But this time he was thankfully silent. Either Sergei had told him to be quiet or he was at last learning some emotional sensitivity. This suited Irina, she had a lot to think about. She hoped what she had been through would not filter down to the servants' quarters. It would not be seemly for them to know 'the lady of the house' had been trained as a sex-slave and had been forced to prostitute herself in the most humiliating fashion. She would let it be known she had been attending a seminar on nineteenth century Russian literature, that should satisfy their curiosity.

As she sat back she wondered what effect the course would have on her relationship with Sergei. Was he angry or horny? She gazed at her 'Certificate of submissiveness'. It had been a hard fortnight, but she could not suppress a feeling of pride that she had survived the course. She hoped that Sergei would appreciate her efforts and wondered if she could expect a present; a diamond, another Rolex or perhaps a trip to Paris.

Irina was tired by the time they arrived home. She grabbed her Louis Vuitton bag and made for the front door. Dmitry, their butler was on duty, but instead of the effusive welcome he normally gave Irina, he merely said, "Miss Natasha has asked to speak to you. Would you please follow me?" Irina was not in the mood to talk to the tart; doubtless she was going to beg for her job. Irina had already decided that she would have to go and that was the end of it.

Dmitry knocked on the door of Irina's private quarters. What the hell was Natasha doing in her room? As she was about to bollock the girl she noticed the changes, the room had been redecorated in her absence ... no, it was just all Irina's personal possessions had been removed.

Natasha was wearing her gym kit showing off her near perfect body. She stood in the middle of the room, hands on hips, clearly confident of her position, "Ah, Irina, good to see you. You will find that there have been a few changes here since you left. The first is that Sergei and I have become an item. He said we were just made for each other. We have just got back from a romantic week in Paris; long walks, wonderful restaurants and even better sex. You should see some of the dresses Sergei bought for me. As you know he can be so sweet. I don't think I have ever been so in love. Anyway Sergei thought you are a little old to take over my place on the G650, so we agreed you could become my maid."

Irina was speechless, the little bitch going behind her back. She wondered how long the whore had been fucking Sergei before she had got this commitment out of him. The ingratitude, she had always been nice to the girl. OK she could never remember her name but whenever she had noticed the slut she had said 'thank you' and made the sort of banal conversation you were expected to make to servants. Now she was to be her maid, she couldn't believe it. Irina took a deep breath, there was no point making a scene, as there was nothing Sergei hated more than 'bitch arguments'.

"Now please remove your watch and all your jewellery. I will keep it for the time being." Irina obeyed as if in a trance, "Dmitry will take you to your room. Your uniform is in the cupboard. Change and be back in ten minutes, so we can go through your schedule."

Irina went to pick up her bag, but Natasha was too quick, "No Irina. I will take care of this."

Irina just managed to say, "Yes of course," before Dmitry gently took her arm and led her out of the room. Vladimir and Kirill followed them up the stairs, looking almost theatrically thuggish. Irina was stunned by what she had heard. Instinctively she turned to Dmitry hoping for some advice or perhaps the admission that this was all a joke. But he spoke first, "Irina, I do hope you will not give me any trouble. From now on, you will call me 'Sir'. You are to be under my supervision when Miss Natasha is away. She has told me to treat you like any other junior maid, so you must not expect any favours. You have much to learn about life 'below stairs', but with some discipline I am sure we can make you into at least an adequate maidservant."

Irina could not reply and merely followed Dmitry as he led her to a room on the top floor. She was shocked; it was little more than a cell with a barred window at one end and a door that could only be locked from the outside at the other. It was about twenty feet long and eight wide and had little in the way of comforts with bare wood flooring and whitewashed walls. There was a small shower cubicle to the right of the door, beside this was a toilet, a wash basin and then a cheap chest of draws and a cupboard with a single bed at the end of the room. Irina swallowed hard, she prided herself on never losing her cool, but this was awful.

She needed to think and think quickly. As soon as Dmitry left, Irina stripped off and got in the shower. Natasha could only have moved into her old room at Sergei's invitation. It was also obvious from Dmitry's demeanour that he knew she had been superseded. They were clearly both confident that Irina would never regain her authority. She knew that there was absolutely no chance of escape as Sergei had phobia about security and the house was better guarded than most countries' gold reserves. So the only way of sorting this out was to speak directly to Sergei, ideally talk him round to taking her back, if not at least getting him to allow her to leave.

Irina skipped out of the shower and quickly dried herself with a tiny towel that felt like sandpaper. Sergei's car wasn't in the drive so she reached for her phone ... but it wasn't in her handbag. She had called Valeriya a few minutes before she got home, so Dmitry must have removed it when she was talking to Natasha. She knew she would just have to accept the situation in the short term and pray Sergei returned soon.

Realising the door had a peephole she did not feel comfortable walking around naked and went to the chest of draws. It was filled with black underwear, but this was not the elegant silk Irina was used to, it was all very brief and was made of polyester satin. Most of the other drawers were empty, except that of the bedside cabinet which was full of sex toys. Masses of them. Irina noticed a dozens of condoms, creams, restraints and two vibrators, one of which was huge. Did Natasha really think that this was how she would spend her off-duty hours?

Irina sat on the bed and took her head in her hands. She knew her relationship with Sergei had been going through a rocky patch but she thought the course had been a warning, not an opportunity to get rid of her. Now she had to serve her replacement in his bed. She would have to submit and put the Cartwright and Palmer training into practice much sooner than she anticipated.

Opening the cupboard she found five identical black satin maids' outfits. She struggled into one of the dresses. It had puff-ball sleeves, a tight elasticated waist, a plunging neckline and was very short indeed, coming down a mere inch or so below her crotch. This required her to adjust her suspenders in the hope of keeping her stocking tops covered. However much she pulled at the dress it was still terribly brief. She knew she must get used to crouching down to pick up anything, as the smallest bend of the back exposed her bottom. She tied the small white satin apron around her waist and took a deep breath. Time to face the music.

Irina ran down to Natasha's room desperately hoping that the other servants would not see her in her skimpy uniform. It would simply be too humiliating.

When Irina entered the room, she found Natasha was going through the contents of her bag. She had piled all of Irina's Cartwright and Palmer stuff to one side and her designer clothes on the other. Natasha looked up, enjoying Irina's evident embarrassment, but attempting to appear irritated said, "You're late. I said ten minutes."

"Sorry, Natasha."

"Irina, remember your station. You will call me 'Mistress' from now on." She continued in a firmer voice, "Stand up straight when I am talking to you!"

"Sorry, Mistress." Irina immediately brought her legs together, put her hands behind her back and tried to look respectful. She did not know what to expect from her employer but did not want to provoke her.

"Now, let's start with some ground rules; one, you will be on duty whenever I need you; two, you will only speak when spoken to; three, you will be clean and well presented at all times; four, you will be respectful and curtsey to all visitors; five, you will be obedient and instantly obey any orders given by Sergei or myself, even those of a sexual nature; six, you are not permitted to use the telephone or received visitors and lastly, as my maid you will keep my rooms spotless, run errands, do my laundry and help me dress in the evenings. If you fail in your duties, you will be subject to corporal punishment. Understand?"

"Yes, Mistress." This was even worse than Irina had anticipated.

Natasha returned to Irina's luggage and picked up some brief satin shorts, "Irina did you really have to wear these at Slave school?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"I told Sergei that school would do you good. He was always going on about your moods and how you never gave him any peace. He has seemed so much happier now I am here to look after him. You can take your slave clothes. I will get the rest washed and return them if you ever need them. It's really lucky we are the same size, I hope you don't mind but Sergei said I could take any of your clothes I wanted."

Irina's eye was caught by a moving image on the TV and was stunned when she recognised herself gagged being fucked by Arkady. The camera had zoomed in on her face, capturing her intense pain, she couldn't believe it. Before she could say anything Natasha said, "Sergei loved the DVD. He didn't know you were so kinky. Arkady said you were the first prostitute who had ever allowed him to do absolutely anything he wanted to her, no matter how painful or degrading. He thought there was a definite niche for you at the cheap end of the market. Now, let me have a good look at you."

Natasha circled around inspecting her new servant. She then lifted the back of Irina's dress, and felt the taut satin of her panties against her firm buttocks. She slid her hands between Irina's legs, feeling her heat. She owned this girl and they both knew it. Natasha whispered, "I do hope we will be friends."

Irina did not resist the caresses and answered, "Yes, Mistress I will try to be good. But don't you think my uniform is a bit short?"

Natasha knew she was right, the dress was very, very short and the bitch was going to wear it, but she answered breezily, "Nonsense, you look fine. You will soon get used to it."

Natasha picked up a stainless steel collar and indicated that Irina should kneel. As she secured it around her neck she said, "Irina, you must wear this at all times. You understand?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"In case you are wondering, it says, 'The personal property of Natasha Petrovna'. Sergei and I got it in Paris. We thought you would look rather sweet in it."

Irina hated herself but the uncertainty was just gnawing at her, she just had to know, "Mistress, can I ask when Sergei decided to get rid of me?"

Natasha turned with a feigned sympathetic smile, "Irina, you really must remember to call him 'Master' now. But if you really want to know it was after your trip to Mustique. You just pushed him too far. 'Slave school' was my idea. I thought properly trained, you would be useful around the house. Sergei liked the idea of having someone who could provide guests and business associates with 'intimate services'. Things will be different, but I am sure you will get to enjoy your new job."

So Irina became Natasha's personal servant and was constantly at her beck and call. Natasha took great pleasure in training her new toy in the duties of a maid. She explained how she should stand waiting attentively for instructions, how to serve drinks and how to curtsey to guests. For times when Natasha did not need her personally she drew up a schedule of work. This involved serving meals, various household chores and a great deal of cleaning.

It quickly became evident that Irina's maids outfit was not suitable for housework, so Natasha had Irina wear her Cartwright and Palmer shorts and T shirt. Later she got some new T shirts with 'Natasha's maid' embroidered on them. Natasha had no end of fun surfing the web for ever tighter shorts for her maid. Several times a week Irina was summoned, told to strip and model Natasha's latest find. Natasha also looked for more uniforms for her maid in different designs and materials, she particularly liked a pale pink version she found.

If Irina thought that the cleaning would be nominal, she was sadly mistaken. Natasha had her working away hour after hour. Each morning Natasha would inspect the work done by 'her little scrubber' on previous day and if she thought it wasn't up to scratch she would lead her to the servants' quarters. Irina would then bend over the kitchen table and pull down her shorts, or lift her dress and pull down her panties if she was in her maid's uniform. Then in front of all the other servants Dmitry would cane her, normally with six strokes, but sometimes more if Natasha believed Irina had not been polite or had been particularly idle. Sometimes Natasha would suggest that Irina do a forfeit instead of receiving the caning; these varied from inserting golf balls into her pussy (she was warned that next time it would be a baseball), to doing the housework naked for a day to blowing one of the visiting tradesmen. The servants immensely enjoyed the ritual humiliation of their former mistress. Occasionally Sergei would even look in to watch the sport.

Irina's torment was worse when Natasha was away, as she came under Dmitry's supervision and he took great delight in humiliating her. The other servants were not sympathetic. All the petty resentments surfaced from when she was 'the lady of the house'. They seemed to enjoy watching her being humiliated. Dmitry had seen the DVD when she offered herself to Arkady and told Irina to her face he thought she was a tart. The other servants had seen bits of it or least heard about her antics. They must have assumed that Sergei had got rid of her for her infidelity.

Irina barely saw Sergei, it seemed someone was not giving him 'respect' and this was taking some time to deal with. She had decided to plead with him to be allowed to work for his Escort agency. She knew she must have seriously offended him, but surely he would not expect her to serve Natasha indefinitely. She planned to play on his greed telling him how much she could earn for him by spreading her legs. The plan was then to keep her nose clean for a few months and then skip the country. There were several ex-boyfriends who would help her out.

~

"Irina we are having a party tonight. Present yourself in your best maid's uniform at my room at 6.30."

"Yes, Mistress."

Natasha was already dressed in one of Irina's favourite Versace outfits when she arrived, "Lift your dress."

Irina did so revealing her normal brief panties. "No, they won't do. We are meant to be entertaining. Wear these."

The thong was the briefest Irina had ever seen, it was only really two bits of thin elastic covered in black lace. It was tiny. She slipped down her knickers and put it on. Natasha made her stand with her dress around her waist as she examined her. After loosening the front of the dress a little, she made Irina sit in front of her mirror and redid her makeup. This involved painting her lips in the brightest scarlet imaginable, greatly increasing the quantity of eyeliner and mascara. Irina had to admit Natasha was talented and in a way she knew she looked very attractive, the difficulty was she looked like a whore, as Natasha no doubt intended.

The cook had chilled the champagne and the vodka and gave Irina a huge tray to hold. She stood as straight as possible as the smallest bend of her legs made her dress ride up to reveal her underwear.

Irina hoped that the guests would not look at a lowly maid as they circulated and gossiped. To start with her luck held, people she had once called her friends barely looked at her. She kept her eyes lowered, and prayed. One after another they took their glasses of champagne without even glancing at her. But it couldn't last, the wife of one of Sergei's lawyers thanked her and Irina saw the shock of recognition in her eyes. The lady did not say anything and merely wandered off to talk to her friends, but gossip like this was like gold dust. Irina gradually saw other wives look over at her. Some staring to be sure, yes it really was her and she was wearing the shortest of dresses. Then their husbands. Now they all recognised her. Irina a maid! In a micro skirt and that makeup! How she had fallen, Irina would have treated many of these people with good natured contempt a few weeks ago. Now they were staring at her speculating on why Sergei was humiliating her or if she had always been a cheap whore and they had somehow misinterpreted her status in the past.

Finally the last glass of champagne was taken and Irina rushed for the kitchen. So quickly she almost knocked into Natasha.

"Things going well Irina?" she asked in what sounded like an unnaturally loud voice.

"Yes, Mistress."

Natasha dropped her clutch bag, "Irina, be a darling and bend over and pick it up for me, this Versace dress is so tight."

Irina felt her dress fall forward as she bent down revealing her tiny thong and perfect bottom. This was the excuse people had been waiting for, there was a huge wave of laughter. What had been a secret a minute ago was now on everyone's lips. Irina was quite literally a laughing stock. She rushed out, ignoring Natasha. Getting to the kitchen she slammed the door, but as she looked up she saw one of the bloody security guards with another tray of champagne. Fight or submission? Much as she wanted to fight she knew it was not an option. Irina gave herself a minute to get her breath back and took the tray.

This time she no longer lowered her eyes; she smiled (somehow) and met her old friends' looks, nodding at those she recognised. She was trying to say, I am quite happy looking like a cheap whore in front of you all, in fact I can not think of a better way of spending the evening.