Lorenzo Marks' Deviant Tales
Lorenzo Marks'Deviant Tales 

Annabel and Mr. Nash Part One


Lorenzo Marks


Copyright © 2021 Lorenzo Marks.


Cover art permission by Fotosearch_u19270413


All rights reserved.





Chapter One




“This is just so unfair!” Annabel exclaimed, pushing out her bottom lip.


Across the table, Aunt Sissy shook her head sadly and wondered what had happened to the sweet young girl she had been raising for the past twenty years.


“Think of it as a learning experience,” Aunt Sissy said. “Before I put such a vast sum of money at your disposal, I want to be sure you are mature enough to handle it responsibly. I wouldn’t want you squandering it all before your reach your thirties.”


“I am mature enough!” Annabel pouted, folding her hands across her breasts.


Oh yes, and don’t you just look it! Aunt Sissy thought with a wry grin. Nevertheless, looking at Annabel’s sulky expression right now, she was certain that she had made the correct decision.


Aunt Sissy had decided several years earlier that she would bequeath a large portion of her money to Annabel when she reached the age of twenty-one. In the form of a trust fund, the cash would made available in monthly increments. She had informed Annabel about her good fortune several years ago, but now she wondered if she had made a mistake in doing so. As the pretty girl had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, so her personality had deteriorated. Perhaps it was the certain knowledge that she would never have to work for a living that had made her become so arrogant. Whatever the reason, as Aunt Sissy had watched her transformation with growing concern, she had concluded that drastic measures needed to be taken.


That was why she had hired Mr. Darius Nash to take on the role of Annabel’s guardian until she came of age. Mr. Nash was an old acquaintance with a reputation as a strict disciplinarian. Sissy was certain that after a year under his tutelage, Annabel would emerge a quite different young lady. And to make sure that Annabel played her part, Sissy had just informed her niece that it would be for Mr. Nash to decide whether he felt she was worthy of her bequeathal or not. In short, he had been given total power over her financial future for the period of one year.


“I’m afraid, Annabel, that this is not negotiable,” Aunt Sissy said, as Barclay the butler refilled her wine glass. “Either you buckle down for a year, or I can think of any number of worthy charities that would benefit from your loss.”


Seeing that her aunt was absolutely in earnest, Annabel calmed down a little and said sulkily, “Well, what would I have to do then?”


“That is entirely up to Mr. Nash. He knows what his job is, and he’s very good at it. Hopefully he will be able to mold you into a sensible, polite young lady. If he cannot, then he will still get paid, and the only loser will be yourself.”


Annabel’s sweet blue eyes grew wider.


“You mean I have to do anything he tells me?”


“That is the deal, Annabel.”


Using her full name like that, rather than her pet name of Bell, confirmed that her aunt was indeed serious. Nonetheless Annabel remained defiant.


“What if I simply refuse to obey him?”


“Then Mr. Nash will inform me that he has failed in his task, and you will have to go to work for a living.”


Annabel considered this. She supposed she could go to work, but it was a miserable prospect when an alternative life of idle luxury awaited her. How bad could a year under the supervision of this man be? He might even turn out to be a nice person. Annabel was certain she could use her considerable charms to twist him around her little finger—he was a man after all.


“Alright,” she said petulantly. “I’m really unhappy about this, but I suppose if you insist. When is he due to arrive?”


Now was the time, Aunt Sissy knew, when Annabel’s resolve was about to be severely tested.

“I’m afraid you won’t be staying here,” Aunt Sissy said.


Annabel dropped her fork. “What?”


“Mr. Nash was quite clear about that. You’ll be moving into his house for the duration.”


Annabel stared at her aunt in shocked silence. She had lived her entire life at Pemberton Hall. She knew every inch of the twelve bedroomed mansion—the spacious kitchen, the recreation room, the sauna, the heated pool—how could she live without all that? Ever since she was a small child, she had roamed its landscaped grounds, showing envious friends around the small lake, the gazebo, the rose arbor, and the copse of ancient trees where she had received her first kiss.


“His house? You’ve got to be kidding!” Annabel cried.


“I can assure you I am not,” Aunt Sissy said firmly.


“You mean I’ve got to sleep there?”


“Of course. You’ll be living there with him full time.”


Annabel’s head was now in a spin.


“Well what if he, you know, tries something?”


“I have the utmost faith in Mr. Nash’s professionalism. You will be perfectly safe,” Aunt Sissy said. “Now you’ve got twenty-four hours to think about it. If you decide to accept, Barclay will drive you to Mr. Nash’s residence tomorrow morning. If not, you’d better start scouring the job vacancies in the newspaper.”






Chapter Two


Annabel slumped in the passenger seat of her aunt’s Mercedes and looked glumly out of the window at the receding front portico of Pemberton Hall. As Barclay turned into the circular driveway, it finally struck her that she wouldn’t lay eyes on the home she grew up in for another twelve months. She now realized how much she had taken her pampered lifestyle for granted. It was true that she could be a bit arrogant at times, and in desperation, she had admitted as much to Aunt Sissy, even promising to mend her ways, but no amount of pleading would sway her stubborn aunt. It was as confusing as it was exasperating—Aunt Sissy had always let Annabel get her own way.


Well so be it!


Overnight, Annabel had decided that nothing was going to come between her and her money. She would take whatever this Mr. Nash threw at her, and some. She would show them all that she was a lot more resilient than she looked. By the time she was through, Mr. Darius Fucking Nash would be sorry he had ever met her!






While Annabel slept during the two hour drive, Alastair Barclay, manservant and chauffeur to Aunt Sissy for over thirty years, took the opportunity to surreptitiously check out the ravishing young beauty sitting beside him. He had watched her blossoming over the years, and had spent many a night masturbating in his room while conjuring up lewd images of her in his head. Despite his best efforts, he had never managed to catch her in the nude, but he could always draw upon a delicious memory of her frolicking in the pool with some girlfriends the previous summer. From his secluded position in the greenhouse, he had been able to ogle her svelte, bikini-clad body for over an hour. Oblivious to his voyeuristic presence, she had unwittingly displayed her charms to him, and he vividly recalled her long, smooth legs, her taut stomach, and her surprisingly well-developed breasts. It had only taken a little imagination to fill in the details needed during his nightly self-gratification sessions.


He continued to glance furtively over at her as she slumbered, once again unaware of his attentions. Barclay knew from the way she had taken to deliberately flouncing around the house in miniskirts, tight shorts, and low-cut tops, that she was aware of the effect she had on him. But the snooty bitch was only doing it for fun to aggravate his frustration—no way was a twenty year-old babe going to show even the slightest interest in an old bachelor like him!

Gazing a little too long at her cute, up-turned nose, and her parted silky lips, Barclay almost rear-ended the vehicle in front and had to stamp on the brakes, causing Annabel to jerk forward and open her eyes.


“What?” she mumbled.


“Sorry, Miss Annabel,” Barclay said.


“For God’s sake be careful, you idiot!” Annabel snapped angrily.


“Yes, Miss Annabel,” Barclay said.


As she settled back again and closed her eyes, Barclay gripped the steering wheel tightly. Even Mistress Sissy didn’t speak to him like that! Then he thought about what was in store for young Miss Annabel and he smiled wickedly. Very soon, the tables would be turned, and she would quickly learn how it feels to eat humble pie. And thanks to his deal with Darius Nash, not only would Barclay be there to witness her demise, he would quite soon no longer have to rely on his imagination to fuel his sexual fantasies either!






Darius Nash studied the glossy photographs of Annabel with a mixture of disdain and excitement. All his life, he had despised the privileged rich, particularly those who had never had to work for their money. He had been brought up the hard way by his strict, uncompromising father, and along the way, he had learned the value of old-fashioned discipline. Although he hadn’t made a great deal of money in his fifty-six years, Darius had established a well-earned reputation as a tough troubleshooter that had kept him gainfully employed until a rather unfortunate incident had caused him to drop off the radar a year ago.


He had been working as a store detective, generally looking out for shoplifters, when he had had the great fortune to catch a rather attractive female staff member trying to sneak out some stolen items. Knowing that the store’s policy meant mandatory dismissal, the tearful girl had begged Darius to let her off. She was so desperate to keep her job that Darius had seized the opportunity to offer her a deal—instead of reporting her, the hapless girl would have to submit to several private punishment sessions administered by Darius himself. In a panic, she had reluctantly agreed, and for the next three delirious Friday evenings, Darius had given the distraught girl a series of spankings and canings while she was in increasing states of undress. It had all come to a premature and unpleasant end when the girl’s husband, suspicious of the accumulating welts on her buttocks, had forced the truth out of her and reported Darius to the store manager. Had it not been for the store’s desire for discretion, coupled with a generous pay-off to the aggrieved couple, Darius would have faced legal proceedings, and his long-concealed kinky tendencies would finally have been revealed to all.


As it was, apart from being blackballed within the local security community, his reputation remained mostly intact. Even so he still needed to pay the bills, and just when his savings were starting to run out, his old friend Sissy had popped up out of the blue with a unique problem that she believed would be right up his street.


Looking once more through the pictures of the exquisitely pretty young morsel, Darius couldn’t have agreed more.






Chapter Three


Annabel’s attitude of defiance took an unexpected dip as she looked up at the somber two-story brownstone. Standing alone on the sidewalk with her suitcases and bags, she was suddenly overcome with serious misgivings about this whole arrangement. Barclay had driven off without even ringing the doorbell and introducing her, and despite the contempt she had for the old servant, she had to admit she could have done with a bit of moral support.


Come on, he can't be that bad, she thought as she ascended the stone steps. She looked at the green painted door for a full minute and wondered if she was making a terrible mistake. She had every right to turn around and leave. But where would she go? Aunt Sissy had made it quite clear that she could not return to Pemberton Hall unless she successfully completed her year with Mr. Nash. There were friends she could stay with, but the prospect of being in somebody else’s debt was too humiliating to contemplate, and with both her parents dead, Aunt Sissy was the only family she had ever known.


A movement in the front window sparked her into action and she hastily jabbed at the brass doorbell. She was gripped by another impulse to run away and stepped back a pace, but the door swung inward and Annabel’s heart sank. Ever since she had made the decision to go through with this, Annabel had harbored a quiet hope that Mr. Darius Nash might turn out to be youngish and possibly even handsome. The man standing in the doorway was neither. He was at least four inches taller than Annabel, with a long, hooked nose, pinched lips, dark beady eyes, and shiny, black hair.


Ugh! Please tell me you are Mr. Nash’s butler! Annabel thought despairingly.






My, oh, my! She is even more delightful than her pictures suggested!


Darius took a moment to appraise the succulent young twenty year-old standing on his doorstep. She had lovely round eyes of the deepest blue, a delightfully small button-nose, and plump, sensuous lips that were just made for kissing. Her auburn hair hung in long, loose curls about her shoulders, and her complexion was pale and flawless. For a slender girl, she looked as though she was hiding a rather generous pair of breasts underneath her baggy sweater, and the sexy curves of her legs were clearly defined by her skin-tight jeans. How could this vision of angelic beauty be giving Sissy such a headache?


Maintaining his mask of disapproval, Darius barked, “Yes?”


To her credit, Annabel did not appear to find him intimidating, although her distaste was evident in her eyes. A lifetime of privileged luxury had clearly equipped her with an abundance of self-confidence, but far from bothering Darius, this only served to excite him more. The task of reducing her to a groveling little house slave would now be that much more enjoyable.

Proudly raising her chin, she said, “My name is Annabel—”


“Yes I know who you are,” Darius interrupted, keen to quickly establish the upper hand. “Quite frankly, I’m only doing this as a favor to Sissy. I value my privacy and I’m not used to having unruly youngsters in my house.”


He looked Annabel up and down, pretending to be unimpressed by what he saw. “However, a promise is a promise, so you’d better come in.”


An indignant look passed over her face and she opened her mouth, but before she could reply, Darius turned on his heel and disappeared back inside the house.






Unruly? How dare he! Does he really think that I want to be here? Annabel fumed silently.

Facing the empty doorway, she reminded herself that it still wasn’t too late to change her mind. In fact, she could leave whenever she chose to.


But the money!


She took several deep breaths and then turned toward her bags. With Barclay already gone, it looked as though she would have to carry them herself. There was obviously no point in asking the contemptible Mr. Nash for any help. It took her two trips to carry all of her baggage into the dingy hallway. There was no sign of Nash.


“Hello? she called out, regarding the faded wallpaper and worn carpeting with contempt.

“Close the door and come in here,” she heard Nash’s voice coming from a doorway just down the hall.


Still unused to being on the receiving end of orders, Annabel did as she was told. She had come this far, so she may as well humor the old fart for now. The living room was a little brighter, the morning sun casting dust-filled golden beams across the furniture. Nash was sitting in an armchair but he didn’t invite Annabel to sit, and frankly she didn’t want to. So she stood in the middle of this unfamiliar room and glared at him.


“Well,” he said finally. “Before we begin this unpleasant exercise, I’m going to lay out a few house rules. I expect you to abide by them at all times.”


Annabel bridled, but reminding herself why she was here, she remained silent.


“Did you hear what I said?” asked Nash.


Annabel nodded.


“I didn’t hear you.”


She folded her arms and shuffled her foot.




“You will address me as Mr. Nash at all times, is that understood?”


Biting her lip and staring out of the window, Annabel muttered “Yes—Mr. Nash.”


Nash crossed his legs and made a bridge with his fingers. “Well, it’s a start I suppose. Now the second item on the agenda concerns your wardrobe.”






Chapter Four


Darius wasn’t sure how much Annabel’s inheritance meant to her, but he knew that Sissy was worth a sizable fortune. It was amazing what people were prepared to put up with if the price was right. Now, as he once more allowed his eyes to roam over Annabel’s body, he was about to find out what her limits were. He had already decided to push the boundaries straight away.

If she went along with this next part of his game, her gradual, but relentless, dismantling would surely follow.


“What about my wardrobe?” she asked haughtily.


Darius raised his eyebrows and waited.


With an exaggerated sigh, Annabel said, “What about my clothes, Mr. Nash?”


“They’re not suitable,” he said simply.


“What do you—?”


“Enough!” Darius shouted loudly enough to make Annabel jump. “I will not have you questioning my every word! Now you will remain silent unless I tell you to speak! Is that clear?”


Her cheeks coloring up, Annabel opened and closed her pretty little mouth like a goldfish, before finally nodding slowly.


“You are well aware of the consequences of any disobedience on your part, and I can tell you right now young lady, that I am on the brink of calling your aunt and canceling our arrangement!”


Annabel, who had been looking angrily at the carpet, now raised her head and looked at him.


Ah! That hit the spot!


“Now I want you to think long and hard before I issue your next instructions, because if you disobey, you know where the door is,” Darius said.


He gave Annabel a few moments to absorb the fact that she was in no position to barter with him. This was important. No matter how much she hated it, Darius had to maintain total control.


“Are you ready?” he asked finally.


Her lovely blue eyes glistening, Annabel softly said, “Yes, Mr. Nash.”






Never in her life had Annabel been spoken to in such a way! Who the hell did this guy think he was? His loud voice had startled her, but his reference to her inheritance had been clear enough. He was as deadly serious about this as Aunt Sissy was.


“We’re finally getting somewhere,” Nash said. “Now I see you have brought along quite a bit of luggage, and later on, we’ll take a look at what you may keep. In the meantime, you will only wear that which I provide for you.”


He gestured towards a small pile of clothing on the coffee table. “There are other outfits upstairs, but you will begin your training with this one.”


Annabel gazed sightlessly at the table, trying to process his words.


He’s going to choose my clothes for me?


No way had she even suspected that this was coming up.


“I want you to change your clothes now Annabel,” Nash said, snapping her out of her stupor. She looked at him in shocked disbelief and saw a strange and unsettling look in his eye.


“Here?” she said in a barely audible voice.


“What did we say about talking without permission?” Nash said. “Yes, right here, but you may turn around.”


Annabel’s head started to swim and she felt her legs trembling.


This isn’t happening! I’ve only just got here! He’s an old man! We’re complete strangers and he wants me to strip in his living room!


“I’m sorry, I can’t—” she began.


“Think, Annabel,” Nash reached for his cell phone and waved it at her. “What happens in this house is between us. No-one ever needs to know, and in one year it will all be over. But if you fail to comply with my every wish, your entire future will change with one phone call. It’s your choice.”






Darius felt his cock hardening as the poor girl wavered in front of him. Her options were simple enough—untold riches in exchange for a year of miserable subservience—and yet it was undoubtedly the hardest decision she had been forced to make in her young life. She was beautiful, proud, arrogant, obviously pursued by an army of lovelorn young men, and here she was, faced with having to undress in front of an unattractive middle-aged man!

Annabel remained frozen and Darius held his breath. They had arrived at the moment of truth. Either she would run for her life or she would begin to undress—and in doing so, deliver Darius into his own perverted version of heaven!


Two tears trickled down Annabel’s flushed cheeks as she stepped out of her shoes while her fingers popped the button on her jeans. Briefly catching Darius’s eye, she turned around and worked them down over her shapely thighs. Darius caught a glimpse of her pink panties beneath her sweater as she bent forward at the knees and stepped out of her jeans. Then she straightened up, and after a moment’s hesitation, pulled the sweater up over her head. As she let the garment fall to the floor, her soft red-brown hair settled over her bare shoulders.

Darius felt his erection intensify as he visually drank in the rear view of her semi-clothed body. Her shoulders were broad, her waist was thin, her ass was round but firm, and her legs were long and well-proportioned.


There was another protracted pause as Annabel evidently considered the next step of her humiliating ordeal, but then she reached around and unhooked her bra strap, and seconds later, it too was lying on the little heap of clothing at her bare feet. All that remained now were her panties, and Darius leaned forward as she pulled them slowly down, revealing the tantalizing cleft between her buttocks inch-by-inch, until her whole ass was exposed.


Demurely, she bent at the knees again, keeping her legs tightly together as the tiny piece of pink cotton reached her ankles.


Then she straightened up and wrapped her arms around herself, and Darius had to stifle a giggle of delight—Annabel was already standing naked in his house!



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