Queened at the Versailles Club

By Jean Zee

The Versailles Club caters to wealthy women from around the world who want the experience of being slave or pageboy owners. The members come to the club to enjoy a taste of the way things used to be - a time when a woman could purchase a male slave and enjoy his services.

After attending an interview for The Versailles Club, Harold is transported with the other male slaves to the Club where he is bought at the slave auction for the weekend. Although the other slaves are mainly young, black, and large, Harold is bought for his large nose, tongue, and fleshy lips. He is considered suitable for ‘queening’ and ‘facesitting’ and other related bodily activities. This is the tale of Harold and his cruel and disgusting mistress, Madame Orlane, a French Aristocrat.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Phoenix Rising Publishing
• Release date: Dec 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781519904669

Book preview

Queened at

The Versailles Club

A Body Horror Novella

Jean Zee and Kit Surette

Copyright© 2015 Jean Zee.  All rights reserved

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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without prior permission of the publisher and author.

A satisfied, mature woman always has two men in her life, one to make love to her normally the other to be queened by her, as her slave.

Contents

The Interview

The Journey

The Auction

Madame Orlane

The Loss of Innocence

Queening

Toilet Training

Other Books by Jean Zee

The Interview

Harold was puzzled as he got out of his car.  He knew his interview at The Versailles Club wouldn’t actually be on the premises, but he wasn’t expecting it to take place in a second floor office over a row of shops in an inner city commercial district.  Scanning the addresses, he looked for the number on the note he held in his hand.  He felt self-conscious as passersby glanced briefly in his direction as he walked down the sidewalk and then looked away.  Harold looked like an average late 30’s city office worker; dark suit, pale complexion, short closely cropped hair, and maybe a few extra pounds.  He wasn’t used to drawing the attention of strangers this way. 

Finally, he found the door with the right address on it.  It was between a diner and a hardware store, and it opened onto a narrow staircase.  At the top of the stairs was a wooden door.  A speaker box with a button was mounted next to the door.  Harold pressed the button. A woman’s voice came over the speaker.  May I help you?  Yes, Harold spoke towards the speaker, I have an appointment for an interview.  Your name, please? replied the voice.  Harold Wilson. There were a few moments of silence before he heard a buzzing sound and the mechanical clicking sound of the lock.  Come in.  I’ll be with you in a minute.

Harold opened the door and entered the room.  There were no windows, only another door.  There was a small bench with what appeared to be clothes hooks, much like in a fitting room.  He sat nervously on the bench to wait.  After a minute or two, the other door opened, and a woman came into the room.  Harold estimated her to be at least in her forties.  She had short- cropped hair and was dressed like a professional secretary. Good afternoon, Harold. I’m Meredith Thomas.  We spoke on the phone yesterday.  I hope you didn’t have any trouble finding the office?  Harold stood.  No, no trouble at all.  "Good.  Now, before we go any further I want to make sure you understand the nature of the position you’re interviewing for.  What do you know of The Versailles Club?"

Well, I heard it’s like a medieval theme park where rich women from all over the world can indulge with male slaves and pages, just like the old times.  I don’t really know too much about it, I’d just heard it, that’s all.  Let me make it clear for you then, said Meredith.  "The Versailles Club caters to wealthy women who want the experience of being slave or pageboy owners.  We recruit men like you to serve as slaves or pageboys.  These are wealthy and aristocratic women, Mr. Wilson; they come from families that historically had slaves or pageboys."

Once we accept you, you will live at the club for the duration of your contract.  You will be well compensated at the end, but while in our service, you will be treated as a slave.  You may have to perform manual labor, cooking and cleaning, but primarily you will service our club members sexually. Do you understand?  Harold was silent as he absorbed what he’d just heard.  I understand, he replied.  Good.  Now I’m going to take you and introduce you to the manager, Mrs. Richards.  Please remove your clothing, said Meredith.

Harold suddenly felt a knot in his stomach.  Excuse me?  You want me to take off my clothes?

That’s right.  Meredith was getting impatient.  I told you your primary function at the club would be sexual.  You’ll be naked most of the time, so if that’s going to be a problem for you, you might as well leave now.  Mrs. Richards will want to see the goods to see if you match up with any members.  Harold thought for a moment, removed his suit jacket, and started slowly unbuttoning his expensive hand tailored shirt. 

Come on, I’m not looking for a strip tease!  Get those clothes off.  Mrs. Richards is waiting to see you.  Meredith crossed her arms over her chest as she waited for Harold to undress.  Harold removed his shirt and hung it on one of the hooks over the bench.  He slipped off his shoes, and unzipped his trousers and stepped out of them.

Now let me give you some advice.  Mrs. Richards is ‘old school’ and you had better treat her with respect.  You will follow her instructions promptly.  You will speak only when spoken to and answer her questions ‘yes, ma’am’ and ‘no, ma’am’ when you do. Harold couldn’t look Meredith in the face as he pulled his boxers down and stepped out of them.  He was now completely naked, standing in front of the older woman. Hmmm, said Meredith thoughtfully as she looked Harold up and down, You’ve got a big nose and thick fleshy lips.  Don’t worry about that.  Mrs. Richards is going to like that!  She’s going to want to see your tongue as well."    Harold felt his face flush with embarrassment under Meredith’s scrutiny.

Let’s go.  Meredith opened the interior door and entered the corridor on the other side.  Harold followed, flinching slightly as he heard the door close behind him.  He felt very vulnerable as the woman he had just met led him naked through the hall of the strange office suite.  It was quiet.  The only sounds he could hear were the clicking of Meredith’s heels on the tile floor, the soft slap of his own bare feet as he walked, and the pounding of his heart in his chest. Finally, they arrived at their destination, a heavy wooden door with a frosted glass window.  Harold could hear a woman’s voice through the door.  Meredith knocked on the door and then opened it and walked in.  She looked back at Harold and motioned for him to enter, too.

Sunlight poured through the wooden blinds on the windows making the room bright.  There was a desk with a young blonde haired woman sitting behind it.  She looked up at Meredith and glanced at Harold as she spoke on the phone.  Harold immediately looked away an instant after their eyes met.  She couldn’t have been more that twenty two years old.  The whole scene was quite ordinary other than the fact that Harold was naked standing there with two fully clothed, professionally dressed women.

Harold looked around the room and saw there was no furniture in the room other than the woman’s desk and the chair she sat in.  He felt very self-conscious even though neither of the two women paid him any attention.   He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. As Meredith stood quietly waiting for the woman to finish her phone conversation, she noticed Harold’s restlessness.  Stop fidgeting, she whispered, Stand still, eyes down!

Another jolt of embarrassment made Harold’s cheeks burn again at the older woman’s reprimand.  He looked down at his bare feet on the carpeted floor.  Finally, the girl hung up the phone.  Hello, Meredith, she said, what have we got here?  She looked over at Harold’s