Declined 1

The sun woke me up.

I checked my phone.

5:21AM.

Thank God. I hadn't missed my weigh in.

Disabling the alarm, I slid out of bed.

The air was cold, but the floor was freezing.

Goosebumps covered my legs. My breasts were tight, my nipples, perky.

If only Ms. Rouge had photographed me like this. I would've looked so much better.

Overnight the temperature must've dropped fifteen degrees. But I'd never noticed because I usually wasn't awake this early. And up until yesterday, I'd been allowed to wear clothes in my own home.

Something else I'd never noticed -- how fucking bright the apartment got. Sure every broker says that, but in this case, he really meant it.

I guess that's what you get with East facing windows. Or was it South facing? I don't know. It was irrelevant to me.

In every apartment I'd ever lived in, the first thing I did was hang blackout curtains.

But alas, the windows were now as bare as I, after Ms. Rouge had torn them down.

And since I didn't want to flash my entire neighborhood, I had to crawl to the bathroom on my hands and knees.

Ms. Rouge had banned me from wearing clothes in the house, but said nothing about avoiding the windows. After work, I planned to rearrange the furniture, to give me a bit more privacy. That way, I could spend most of my time in the corners of the apartment not visible to the street, far from the prying eyes of my neighbors. The bed could go right next to the window, for there was no rule against hiding beneath the covers. Wearing the sheets around the room like a toga -- now that would definitely be in the gray area. So I didn't want to risk it.

Beams of light shone on my pale butt as I passed underneath the windows. Even the sun couldn't resist spanking my ass. And in that cold apartment, they felt even better than Ms. Rouge's.

I still had until 6AM to weigh in, but I decided to just get it over with.

129.1 lbs.

Thank God.

A circle spun around the number, signifying my weight was being reported back to Ms. Rouge's phone.

At least for this, I won't be punished.

I pictured Ms. Rouge with a whistle, forcing me to run laps around a track until I made weight, whipping me to go faster each time I passed her. I'd be lucky to even be wearing clothes. Perhaps she would make me pull her in a cart around the city wearing nothing but a horse's bit.

Yes, much better to skip a few meals to avoid some beatings, at least for the first few days.

The bathroom only had one small frosted glass window. I could always hide there, if I couldn't find a good way to rearrange the furniture.

I stepped into the bathtub and twisted on the faucet.

It turns out Ms. Rouge was ⅔ right about me being a lazy, filthy slut.

When was the last time I cleaned the tub? I can't remember.

I'd tracked in a ton of dirt from crawling on the ground. For every particle rinsed down the drain, another took its place.

After a bit of scrubbing and shampooing, I was finally clean.

Then came the tricky part.

I shaved and re-shaved. Removing every stray hair took forever, but I was finally perfectly smooth, everywhere.

I stepped out of the tub and checked myself out in the mirror.

Not too shabby.

I sent a picture of my naked body to Ms. Rouge. Since this was the first progress picture, I didn't bother to suck in my stomach.

My body actually didn't look that bad. Skipping dinner last night seemed to help, as did abstaining from my usual few glasses of wine. Alcohol always bloats me.

Instead I chain drank decaf coffee all night long in hopes of suppressing my appetite. It kinda worked, until I went to bed, dying for something to eat.

Yesterday I had succeeded in enduring the pain. But today, I was already planning to cheat. I craved a greasy egg sandwich with ketchup. On the way to work, I'd stop and get one.

Before I left the bathroom, I stopped to admire my pussy. It'd been awhile since I'd seen it this clean -- years even, back to the first few weeks of me and Bryan's relationship. I gave up shaving after he told me he didn't care.

Sure I buzzed it from time to time, but more often than not I sported an outright jungle down there. No matter how much hair I had between my legs, Bryan would dutifully eat me out. I almost preferred seeing the hairs on his tongue. With him, I played a twisted game, to see how repulsive I could get before he'd stop fucking me. I skipped showers for days at a time and even trained him to go down on me during my period.

Unfortunately with Ms. Rouge I wasn't so lucky.

If I'd ever hoped to have her lips on my pussy, it would have to be perfect.

I checked the time on my phone.

Shit.

I dressed as fast as I could and sped out the door.

For the first time in my life, I thought, thank God I'm outside.

No one there would know I lived a double life as a slave, that I was banned from wearing clothes in my own house, or that I had to ask permission to use the bathroom in my Mistress' presence.

The bagel shop was only a few blocks away.

As soon as I got there, a woman and kid exited the restaurant. Behind them, I could see a massive line.

Fuck.

I stood outside, not sure what to do.

There was no way I'd be on time if I waited in that line.

In the end, my stomach won out. I couldn't bear to skip another meal, especially after spending the morning fantasizing about eggs and greasy sausage. Nothing on Earth was going to stop me from eating this sandwich.

The line moved fast. I ordered, and my eggs were ready in a few minutes.

I handed the worker my credit card.

"It declined. Let me try it again," he said. "Declined, again. Do you have another card?"

I handed him my Amex.

"This one declined too," he said with a smile.

He was an older man, probably the owner. As if I was too broke to buy a sandwich. Come on.

"Do you have any cash?"

I checked my wallet and only had three dollars. Shit. The people behind me were breathing down my neck, getting angrier and angrier.

"Try this one," I said, handing over my last card.

"Declined."

"I have to go to my car and get some cash."

I ran out of the store and put two blocks between me and that asshole.

Ok, now it was safe.

I checked the credit card and banking apps on my phone, but could not login.

Oh shit.

I rushed back to my apartment to call the bank.

They couldn't tell me anything, except that I had recently closed all of my accounts.

That was when I realized who had stolen all my money.

I called and called Ms Rouge, but she did not answer.

About two hours later, I heard a knock at the door.

Ms. Rouge was carrying several bags filled with groceries.

The second she saw me, she scowled.

"Why are you wearing clothes?"

I stripped everything off, inserted my plug, and kissed her feet.

"I'm sorry Mistress. But I've been having the worst morning ever."

"Well, now you've ruined mine," she said. "I brought you over some groceries, so you'll have something to eat. You may have noticed by now that I closed your bank accounts and credit cards. It was the only way I could be sure you wouldn't cheat on your diet. Don't worry about bills. I'll subtract it from your salary. As for your daily expenses, I will give you a small allowance, but anything not covered by that you will have to ask me to

purchase for you."

I knelt before her, frozen.

My salary. My bank accounts. My credit cards. All gone.

Ms. Rouge had complete control now.

I wanted to scream. To demand she fix this. To take back what was mine. But I couldn't.

That wasn't my place.

Instead, I lowered my forehead to the floor.

"Thank you, Mistress."

Ms. Rouge sighed, nudging my shoulder with the toe of her shoe.

"Get up."

I rose, hands folded in my lap like the obedient thing she was molding me into.

"Good girl," she murmured.

Her voice was soft, almost affectionate.

"Now, put the groceries away. And while you do, I want you to think about how fortunate you are to have me. Without my guidance, you'd still be gorging yourself on greasy takeout and drowning in cheap wine."

I moved to the bags and began unpacking them. Ms. Rouge had purchased lean proteins, leafy greens, and herbal teas -- not a single indulgence.

"You'll eat when I say, what I say, and nothing more," she continued. "Your cravings mean nothing. Your comfort means nothing. Only my approval matters. Do you understand?"

I swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, Mistress."

"You were late for work."

I clenched my teeth. Of course, she knew. She always knew.

"Yes, Mistress. I'm sorry, Mistress."

"Explain yourself."

I hesitated. The truth was humiliating. But I had no choice.

"I stopped for a sandwich."

"Oh, my pathetic little pet. What did I tell you about cheating?"

I felt her foot press against my shoulder, guiding me into my back.

"You belong to me," she murmured. "Your body. Your money. Your food. Your time."

She leaned down, running a single nail along my collarbone.

"And you will learn, one way or another, that I do not tolerate disobedience."

I shivered.

"Yes, Mistress."

She stood up, lifting a single grocery bag.

"You will eat only what I give you. You will live only as I allow. Now get ready for work. You're late enough as it is."

Ms. Rouge let me get fully dressed before she pulled down my pants and underwear. She removed my plug, dropping the silicone into the panties hanging around my ankles.

I wasn't free for long.

From her purse, she produced a plug nearly twice as big as the one I'd gotten used to.

"No."

She coated the entire toy in lube and shoved it in my butt.

"Better get used to the size. Cause it's all you'll be wearing from now on," said Ms. Rouge. "Plus, it'll be a good reminder, while you're slaving away at work, of the punishment I have waiting for you at home."

I shuddered.

Punishment.

Real punishment.

I had no idea what she had planned.

But I knew one thing.

It would hurt.

And I would love every second of it.