Hemmings Descent

Tom had been acting as a slave to his wife and daughters for nearly a year now. The ladies had settled into a life of leisure at home with Tom doing everything round the house and waiting on them hand and foot. Tom had given up his IT consultancy and was now spending all his time working for his wife, her daughters and anyone else who asked them for his services. He was sure that the youngest daughter was renting him out to do odd jobs round the village. She certainly talked to him about any reports of a less than perfect performance. These talks always involved a riding crop.

All of his clothes from his former life had gone to the charity shop. Although at first he had kept his suit and a pair of good jeans for when he escorted his wife to social function, these had gone to charity as well after he was replaced by one of her various gentlemen friends on nights out as well as in her bed.

Tom now had a white-ish polyester shirt and some slightly too short black polyester trousers for when he acted as a waiter and a ragged T-shirt and a pair of stained jogging bottoms to wear when he was working in the front garden or doing other jobs round the village. Both outfits came from the same charity shop that got his good clothes.

For a long time nobody other than Susie and Jo knew about Tom's new status as a slave. In public they did not behave any differently than they had when they were playing the Thomas the servant game. Diane and Alan, Steve and Sophie were regular dinner guests, same as before. Tom wore his uniform, bowed and scraped, waited at table and served drinks before and after the meal. He disappeared into the kitchen to get on with food preparation or washing up when he was not required.

Eventually, however, Susie couldn't contain it any longer. Her old schoolfriend, Jackie, had come back to visit her parents and called round for coffee one Saturday morning. Susie was, of course, reclining on the settee. As was usual Tom was doing housework wearing a pair of pink shorts that were a couple of sizes too small. Tom answered the door and showed Jackie into the lounge. Susie joyfully welcomed her friend with a hug and sent Tom off to bring them coffee. After serving the coffee he left without saying anything to either Susie or Jackie and went back to scrubbing the kitchen floor the old-fashioned way, on his knees with a bucket of soapy water and a scrubbing brush.

"What's up with him?" asked Jackie. "Is he upset about me being here or something?"

"He'd better not be upset! No he's just not allowed to talk to anyone without permission."

"What do you mean. Permission?"

"Well its a long story but basically, a couple of years ago I found out that he has this fetish about serving women, actually being my servant. So I took advantage of him and let him do everything round the house. At first I just did things that I thought he would enjoy but then I realised that I enjoyed being mean to him and I didn't really care if he liked it or not.

Anyway now he is my slave"

"What! Your slave! What do you mean? Slave?"

"He does what he is told and if he is not told to do it, well he doesn't do it. This is getting too complicated. To put it simply, ho obeys orders or he gets punished"

"What do you mean punished?"

Susie could tell that her friend was getting interested.

"Well there are all sorts of exotic things I could do to him, but mostly he just gets his arse whipped"

"You have got to be kidding! You take a whip to his bum?"

"You don't believe me? Do you want a demonstration?"

"Surely you wouldn't whip him for no reason?"

"Well its not for no reason is it? Its to show you what happens when he doesn't do what he is told. Do you want a demonstration or not?"

"This seems so wicked. Oh go on then. Do it. Are you sure he wont mind?"

"You haven't got the idea of this slave thing have you? It doesn't matter if he minds or not. If I say he gets whipped, he gets whipped. Speaking of which -"Susie turned and called into the kitchen. "Thomas! Get yourself in here and bring your whip with you!"

Tom scurried into the lounge and looked anxiously at his wife as he handed her the wicked looking crop.

"You're not really in trouble. Its just that Jackie here didn't believe that you get whipped so we are going to give her a demonstration. Get those stupid shorts off and bend over the chair."

Susie stalked round Tom, bent over the chair, her heels clicking loudly on the hardwood floor. Suddenly there was a whooshing sound and a red streak appeared across his buttocks. Tom made a hissing noise as he sucked air in but he didn't move.

This happened six times and both Susie and Tom were breathing heavily. Jackie watched wide-eyed.

Susie held out the crop towards her. "Your turn!"

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, If you want to that is."

"Well yes! Of course I do. How many strokes?"

"Start with six I suppose"

Now Susie was tall and slim. She spent a lot of time in the gym and playing squash and tennis, Jackie was different. She was into a wide range of sports from rowing to rock climbing. She even played rugby. Her time in the gym was spent on the heavy weights not the cardio machines like Susie. She was a big girl and she was all muscle. When she hit poor Tom with that whip, he lost all self control and shrieked.

"I like that!" Said Jackie. " I think it stung a bit. More?"

"Go on! Give it to the bastard! Give him it good!"

Another 5 strokes and Tom was hanging over the chair sobbing.

Jackie looked disappointed.

"What's the matter chuck?"

"Well you said six, and that was my six"

"I said start with six. Just ignore him winging and keep going"

"He looks pretty unhappy with six. How many more?"

"Well he has a lot more chores to get through so no more than twenty"

"Twenty? Are you sure?"

"Oh go on then twenty-five but you have totake me out to lunch! He wont be fit to do lunch for us here after that."

Over lunch Susie told Jackie about the rest of Tom's pathetic existence, how after some discussion they had decided what to feed him on. The first idea had come from the village shop. They were selling assorted tins of food that had lost their labels when the basement got flooded. Susie had bought the lot for £25. It had been the entire stock. There was all sorts in there, from dog food to peaches. Tom had to open two tins in the morning and mix them in a bowl. He had half in the morning and the rest in the evening. Cold of course, and he wasn@t allowed to use his hands, never mind a spoon.

The next idea was when a friend's dog was run over by a truck on the High Street. The poor man was heartbroken so he wanted to get rid of all the dog's stuff as well as a collar and a leash, Susie got a huge 25kg sack of dry dog food and the dog's bowl to eat it out of. Tom protested that it was really bland and boring. The girls agreed and got random visitors, mostly Jo's boyfriends, to add flavour by pissing on it.

The one Tom hated most was what Susie called leftovers. Now most people like leftovers. You can get a good meal from a bit of cold roast beef. This was not like that though. It was all the other stuff that was left over. Waste food left on plates, apple cores, rotten bananas, in fact anything that Susie and Jo wouldn't eat. It all went into a bucket under the sink in the kitchen until Susie announced that today was a leftovers day. This meant that Tom had to put a couple of ladles of this stuff into his bowl and eat it. It was bad enough in the winter but when it had been brewing away for a week or so in August it was not nice at all. He had to fight the flies off and he could never get used to the maggots even though he was allowed to pick them out of the slop in the bucket.

Susie told her how Tom normally slept in the cellar. It used to be the boiler room and the modern gas boiler was still in there. It was in a cupboard so it did not add much heat to the room, it just made odd gurgling noises all night

The first part of the cellar was like a normal bedroom, only without a carpet, just stone flags and bare brick walls, There was just enough room for Tom's narrow single bed with a couple of blankets, a very stained geriatric toilet, without a seat, an equally filthy and elderly sink with one cold tap, and a more modern shower. Susie could use an app on her phone to control the temperature of the shower. It usually went cold soon after he got into it. The shower didn't have a drain so the water just ran across the floor. It was always dark down there. Switching the light on didn't make a lot of difference. There was only a single dim bulb giving just enough light to allow him to find his way to his bed, the door, the toilet and the shower.

Then there was the door into the rest of the cellar. The rest of the cellar was still full of rubbish with rats, spiders and other crawling things everywhere and once the door was shut it was pitch black.

Jackie was very interested to learn about the cage and how it was discovered when Susie got him to explore beyond his bedroom. She wanted to make sure there was no other way out of the cellar. They had found a door made of rusty iron bars across an alcove in the furthest corner. It was probably built to keep the servants away from some vicar's port. It was quickly christened "The Cage". It wasn't high enough for Tom to stand up inside and he couldn't lie down properly either. There was a mattress on the floor. It was a child's mattress that Amy had found in a skip. It filled most of the floor of the cage. He had a ragged old sleeping bag that Susie had bought from a homeless person after she saw some drunks pissing on him asleep in a shop doorway, He had not been allowed to wash either the mattress or the sleeping bag so the smell was disgusting. They were both infested with all manner of biting scratching and squeaking creatures. In the dark he could here things moving about. Sometimes they scrambled over him while he was asleep in the cage. He didn't get a lot of sleep in there.

The Cage was mostly used as part of a punishment, usually after a beating, much like being sent to bed without any supper, but he also missed breakfast as well.

Jackie thought it was hilarious that Susie locked him up in there every Saturday night in case she brought a man home.

"And he goes along with all this?

"Well he signed a contract that says basically I can do what I want with him. I can even sell him to somebody if I get sick of him, but I am enjoying abusing him too much to get rid of him yet. He still seems to be having fun as well, if that's the right word to describe what he is going through."

"Well I bagsie first refusal if he is ever on the market. Mates rates of course though."

"I will remember that. I will get in touch if I get sick of him"