I had truly become Maxine's slave, and her worst torture was her denial that I actually was a slave. She kept up with the charade that this was all just a symbolic game, but I had been given the message that I would be tortured or maimed if I defied her and got her angry enough. Any defiance was indeed dealt with brutally.
Later that week, Maxine left for her health club in the morning telling me that she would be returning with an important guest later in the afternoon. "Stacy is a really good friend, and I want you to treat her with the same respect you treat me." As Maxine was leaving, she turned and said, "And if you really wanted to make me happy, you'll dress in your pretty maid's uniform."
I knew what that meant. It was an order. I took it as such, but first I did the shopping, and ran the long list of errands which Maxine had also "requested" that I do.
At about 2:00 pm, I arrived home and saw Maxine's new car in the driveway. She had sold mine, and bought a Porsche for herself. I came into the house with my arms filled with packages to see Maxine and a tiny, dark-haired woman about our age sitting together on the couch. I was taken aback to find Maxine with her head in the woman's lap, and with the woman playing with her hair. Neither of them stopped what they were doing when I came in, and Maxine didn't even look at me. The woman, however, gave me a mocking look.
After an eternity, Maxine closed her eyes. "I can wait."
I didn't know what she meant. The woman was smiling, enjoying my humiliation. She was tiny, but very strong looking. She had long black hair pulled back in a braid and to show off her tan, she was wearing a small white dress, which plunged in the front to show a large, but delicate tattoo array coming up from her left breast. I just stood there and Maxine spoke again in even tones. "Didn't I ask you to wear something special this afternoon?" She hadn't even looked at me.
Like a flash I remembered. The maid's outfit. "But I was out shopping. I was going to put it on when I got home."
Maxine just snickered and nodded her head. "I'll bet you were. Well go up now and change. Then come down and see to Mistress Stacy's needs. I'll join you in a little while."
I retreated to the basement and began the process of getting clothed totally in my maid's outfit, which meant makeup and a body shave wherever hair showed. The process took almost 20 minutes, and I slipped into my high heels and started upstairs.
When I got there, Maxine wasn't there, but Stacy was reclining on the couch, smoking a cigarette. I approached her slowly and her gaze was riveted on me. I quickly got into my slave head. She stared right through my eyes. She was very beautiful, and her knowing that I was a slave made me very uncomfortable and vulnerable to her. "Can I get you anything Stacy?"
She just continued staring at me, raised her cigarette to her lips and paused there. "Maxine wants you to address me as Mistress Stacy."
"Yes Mistress Stacy. Would you like me to get you a drink or anything?"
"Not just now Francine. That is what you're called when you're in that maid's costume, isn't it?" She smiled.
I nodded. Stacy kept her eyes on me until I looked down. She paused for a moment before she asked "Maxine said that you two have a unique relationship." Stacy asked me.
I nodded again, and looked down.
"Are you submissive to her?"
I nodded again. Her grey eyes, bathed in blue eyeshadow, were ice cold, and I tried to avert them whenever I could.
She took a deep drag on her cigarette. "What are some of the things Mistress Maxine makes you do? And look at me when I'm talking to you, insect." She sat back and stared at me coldly.
I stared right into her hot eyes while I was thinking of an answer. "Whatever she wants me to do, Mistress Stacy."
Stacy softly laughted. "Mistress Stacy. I like that. I like weak men. They turn me on. And you're really weak, Francine, aren't you?"
I did nothing, looked at her smirking at me, then I just nodded.
"I mean, you'd have to be very, very weak to let someone own you. How does it feel to be owned by a woman?"
I didn't know what to answer, so I just looked down.
"Why are you looking away. Do I make you uncomfortable? Should I tell your owner that you were rude to me?"
I shook my head.
"Do you have a voice?"
"Yes Mistress Stacy."
"Yes, what."
"Yes, I have a voice."
"Yes I have a voice, who?" Stacy harrangued.
"Mistress Stacy."
"Yes, what, Mistress Stacy."
I was exasperated, but terrified. "Yes, I have a voice, Mistress Stacy."
Stacy just stared at me with a smirk "Better. Does Maxine beat you?"
"Yes, Mistress Stacy."
"Does she make you worship her?"
"Yes, Mistress Stacy."
"Your Mistress makes love to other people, you know. MANY other people."
"Yes, Mistress Stacy."
"How does it feel knowing that dozens of men touch her and get pleasure from her, but all you get is humiliation and pain."
I said nothing, and Stacy persisted.
"Has she ever made you watch while she makes love to someone else?"
"No, Mistress Stacy."
She picked up her drink and took a sip. "If she did ask you, you would watch her though, right?"
I was close to tears. "Yes I would."
Stacy slid a new cigarette between her lips, picked up her expensive lighter, and flicked it open. With her cigarette dangling between her lips, she stared at me. "What if I asked you to worship my feet right now? Would you do it." She lit her cigarette, and blew her smoke out slowly, and paused staring at me for a moment.
I said nothing, because I didn't know whether this was something which Maxine would want me to do.
"I would have to ask Mistress Maxine," I replied.