Plaything by Miss Irene Clearmont

Book Details

Plaything – On the road trip that he had always promised himself, Samuel is running out of money and still has a week to go before his flight leaves from San Francisco. When he manages to start the car of a wealthy woman, she offers him a little work to get him back on his feet and he falls into her trap.

Aimless and inquisitive, a nice young man on his way to see the world and enjoy the experience. What he is about to enter into is the dark underbelly of the sunlit plains…

Miss Harriman, a wealthy dominant woman, has decided to amuse herself with an experiment that will change Samuel and his life forever. He soon finds himself with his passport confiscated and the domestic work under the silent supervision of Maria the maid, a confinement that cannot be escaped.

Initially trapped by his own sense of social niceties, the walls close around him as Miss Harriman takes over his life and makes him hers. This is her world, a world where others do as they are told and she rules with a whip in her hand. And yet, she has a sense of humour as she decides that Samuel will become the subject for an experiment that will satisfy her sense of curiosity.

And so it begins, Samuel’s journey through the underworld of dominant women and abuse that will end in who knows where? As his training in Miss Harriman’s household gets underway, Samuel learns that obedience is the best escape, that servitude is his lot and that the changes that Miss Harriman imposes upon him are just the beginning, because she has plans for him that will move him from her hands to those of others that will exploit him ruthlessly.

This is the first in the ‘Samuel’ series of four novellas that will take him to dark places and terrible trials as he becomes a slave to women whose only interest is in making his life dedicated to their pleasure or earnings. Each book is around 20,000+ words and takes off from where the last finished. making a single narrative. The books are closely plotted to be a single narrative and are best read in sequence…

The ‘Samuel’ Series:

1. Plaything
2. Road Kill
3. Full Dressage
4. Come To Mother

Setting: USA

F/m, Humiliation, Domestic Training, Chastity, Sissy Maid, Slavery.

Strength 6/10 – 30,000 Words

Written 2017 Re-edit 2022

Excerpt: Plaything

Subjugating Samuel

Episode One

He got off in Reno. Why, when his ticket was to Vegas? Maybe it was just because impulse was the goal. Or perhaps just fate took his hand and led him to captivity. Samuel shouldered his rucksack and stepped down from the bus and headed through the milling, waiting passengers. The ticket; he dumped it in a bin, now there was no going back! For a few moments, he looked at the boards that displayed the numbers of departing buses, before he headed out on foot. To the left the river, on the other hand the city.

First port of call was to find a cheap motel! He dodged the traffic across the main street and stopped for a coffee and a bite. Two dollars fifty and ten minutes later he was registering in the motel and taking in the room that was costing just fifty a night. Samuel unpacked his bag. A couple of tattered paperbacks, his precious camera, a couple of T shirts and his phone. Not much, but then, that was the idea of the whole trip, to experience America in the raw, to hitch and bus his way around from East Coast to West on just a few dollars a day.

The room had a musty air, as if unused for weeks, but the locks seemed secure and at least the bedding was clean. Satisfied that he had a home for the next day at least, Samuel decided to explore. As soon as he had walked five minutes he regretted getting off in Reno. There seemed nothing of interest, even though he snapped a few shots of peeling buildings overshadowed by glass monstrosities. By the time that he ate in a diner, Samuel was already planning his next move.

Simply put, the problem was money! Life was simply too expensive on the road despite the fact that he was so careful with each dollar. Samuel had arrived in New York, from Spain, just three weeks ago. A week in the Big Apple had cost double his estimation and each stop on the road had depleted his funds to the point where now, he was starting to think that sleeping rough was the only option. In two weeks he had to be in San Francisco airport for his flight back to Europe, in his billfold were enough dollars for just a single week. Nothing for it! He would be sleeping rough in Reno after tonight and just spend every third night in a bed. He walked down the river lined with parks and assessed the possibilities before heading back to the Motel. A few more photos; he was running out of space to keep the thousands of pictures and could not even afford another card.

Samuel sighed as he flicked through the photos and eliminated a few from a week back to make more space. This trip had not turned out anything like the fantasy dream he had had. Of being on the road. Footloose and free, the sun high as he met interesting people and saw exciting places. Even the day trip to Niagara Falls had been an anti-climax. A rubbish-blown park, too-expensive excursions on the river and a glimpse of Canada that made him wish that he was on the other side. Somehow he longed to be back in Seville in Spain, boasting of the trip that he had taken before university.

He awoke. At three in the morning, the bed in the neighbouring room was taking a beating and the cries of the combatants could be clearly heard through the walls. Samuel sat up in bed and tried to read to the rhythm of that long fuck. The words of the Kerouac novel that he had brought to read to get him in a travelling mood blurring before his eyes. At four the noise subsided, followed by the slamming of doors and high-pitched feminine laughter outside his window.

Samuel nodded off with the light on. A bang at the door signalled the wakeup call that he had requested at nine and he packed his rucksack carefully before bidding farewell to the room. Time to explore… he felt as though his feet dragged, weary and despondent as he headed back to the bus

station and discovered that the days’ bus to San Francisco was already fully booked. A peep into the bin where he had discarded the ticket the day before showed just coke cans and he headed back into town.

Samuel hastened out of the derelict area he was walking through and passed under the freeway. Suddenly the feeling was different. Small houses became larger villas as he headed on through. Neat lawns and playing children. His step lengthened a little until he found himself in an affluent area where smart four-by-fours were parked behind locked gates. With the idea that this might be a safe place, if only he could just find a suitable piece of secluded park. Samuel went further. Now he could see the barren edge of town, the place where houses suddenly stopped and the green watered-lawns became near-desert. A hard, dry place that seemed unforgiving. He reached the edge of town and looked at his watch.

Four hours and the sun was high and bright. Once again, Samuel’s mood descended, it seemed as though he would have to call his parents and ask them to send him some cash. The very thing that he had tried so hard to avoid. On the other hand, it would allow him to get another night in that motel, the one that was cheap and the sleeping optional. Samuel imagined how smug his wealthy father would be when he was forced to call for money, and he hesitated.

A blonde woman leaned on the fender of a smart small sports car with her telephone in her hand. As he walked past he could hear her arguing with someone in an imperious tone.

‘Just you get out here now,’ she said into the phone. ‘I have paid for recovery and now recovery is what I will get!’

He stopped and nodded in greeting.

‘Yes?’ she asked, covering the mouthpiece of the phone. Samuel did not know why he had stopped, but now that he had, he was forced to reply.

‘Can I help?’

She looked him up and down with disdain and then said, ‘If you’re a mechanic, boy!’ Samuel was about to walk on, but suddenly it seemed that a challenge had been issued and he could not resist answering back. On the other hand, she was certainly attractive, all pale skin and long almost-white hair, maybe that was a challenge as well? ‘I can push,’ he offered.

It seemed that the challenge was taken, because the woman slipped the phone into her handbag and stood with a look of calculation. ‘OK, we’ll try,’ she said.

He watched her slide into the seat of the small car elegantly and look expectantly up at him. He looked down and breathed a sigh of relief… not an automatic. This would be easy…

‘OK,’ he said as he moved to the back of the car. ‘Press the clutch and put it in second.’

‘Is that all?’ One stilettoed foot pressed the clutch down and her hand guided the gear stick.

‘Just let it out easy when I signal…’ Manual started to push. The car was light and rolled forward easily and he waited until he was almost running before shouting, ‘Go!’

The car stuttered a moment and then the engine roared into life. Samuel half expected her to drive off without even a ‘thank-you’ but she stopped after a few yards and leaned back to watch him. He strolled to the car, elated and happy, this sort of little adventure was what his trip was all about.

‘Don’t let the engine stop,’ he said. ‘It needs charging…’

‘Well done, boy,’ she said. ‘You need a ride?’

Samuel shook his head and lifted his hand. ‘No, I’m fine.’

She looked him up and down and nodded. ‘You’re hungry?’

Samuel shrugged, which she seemed to take as an answer.

‘See the pink villa, there,’ she said, pointing at a huge pair of open gates. ‘Just knock on the door and tell them that Miss Harriman sent you. I’ll call ahead and see you in an hour or so, when I’m back.’

‘No, really.’

‘I insist,’ she said. ‘When I come back I can thank you properly…’

For a moment, Samuel had a vision of the alluring woman thanking him and felt a twinge of interest. ‘If you insist, then I’ll see you in an hour…’ The car sped off down the wide street and Samuel turned to look at the formidable villa that she had indicated. A wide driveway, carefully tended bushes and sprinklers making rainbows. He walked to the edge of the drive and saw the house. Low and wide, a portico sheltered the door from the sun. He walked up the drive and knocked on the door, careful to give Miss Harriman time to call ahead.

The door was opened by a Hispanic maid. A cute little girl who nodded to Samuel and moved her hand in invitation to enter. Samuel switched to Spanish, ‘Gracias,’ and followed her into the house. Suddenly in the shade and out of the bright sun, he followed her through to the back of the house where a huge modern kitchen looked out on the vast lawns at the rear of the villa. The maid made no response to his friendly tone and he looked around the vast kitchen before sitting at the table and watching the maid at her work. A cool glass of lemonade, a taco stuffed with garbanzo beans and salad.

‘It’s good. Thanks,’ he ventured as he munched on the taco. The maid vaguely smiled a little and then cleared away the preparation mess. He watched her clean the knives and plates, and then start a task that soon had him puzzled. She opened the cupboard to display plates in racks that she, one by one, started to clean meticulously and replace in the cupboard. Samuel tried a few words in Spanish and then English, but the maid was clearly not in a talkative frame of mind.

All that remained was to watch the maid at her meaningless task for twenty minutes before she started on a cupboard filled with copper pans. Each one was carefully rinsed in fresh water, scrubbed, dried and then replaced in the same spot. After the pans, she cleared the refrigerator in the same way. Each container and packet was carefully taken out, wiped and replaced in the exact same spot. The taco had filled a hole and Samuel started to take notice of the villa that belonged to the woman that he had helped.

This house was even larger than his father’s in Seville. The kitchen alone was large enough to fit an apartment. He wondered what Miss Harriman did, or perhaps her husband did, to afford a palatial villa like this one. His attention turned to the maid and he decided that, even though unfriendly and silent, she was pretty and well worth watching. Kitten heels, shapely legs and long black hair braided into a plait under the maid’s cap.

Samuel glanced at his watch. ‘When is she coming back?’ he asked the maid.

Her response was a glance, then she placed a finger on her lips and turned to her next task. This time it was the cooker. It did not seem to Samuel that there was any need to clean the already sparkling cooker, but nevertheless, the maid scrubbed and rinsed and seemed satisfied by the result of her labour. Behind him, Samuel heard footsteps ringing on the marble floor and turned to see Miss Harriman entering the kitchen. ‘I’m so glad that you waited,’ she said. ‘I hope that Maria fed you properly?’

‘It was good,’ said Samuel politely.

‘Thank you,’ she said.

‘No need…’

A slightly cross look showed on her face and she said, ‘I meant, say ‘thank-you’ when you are grateful!’