So weird. This was beginning to feel too weird. Just too strange. I was on the verge of just getting up and finding my clothes, walking out, when she finally spoke.
"I have to say, I didn't know if you would actually go through with this. You did a good job."
Caylee was inspecting her room, the room I'd spent most of the day cleaning for her. Not just cleaning, but thoroughly scouring, moving furniture to dust the baseboards style cleaning, on my hands-and-knees scrubbing the hardwood floor with a rag style cleaning, all while stripped down to nothing but a thin t-shirt and my briefs, while Caylee occasionally checked on me from the door, leaning against it smiling or laughing. Now she was apparently climbing on top of her dresser to check the corners near the ceilings for cobwebs. At least that was my impression. It was hard to tell, because I was lying on that same hardwood floor, face down, perfectly still and silent. Like I said, way too weird. Topped off by the most humiliating part of this whole ordeal, the fact that I was now stripped completely naked.
I was naked, and Caylee was in the room, and it was the first time anyone had seen me in that condition, or at least anyone who counted. We were both eighteen. It was the middle of summer, the summer after senior year. I was naked, and she was completely dressed, and god I was embarrassed, and I kept breathing harder and harder, could feel my breath against the cold wood of the floor. This was the kind of thing I'd imagined forever, but would never in a million years have predicted any part of it would have come true, but here I was, wondering whether such activities were better left in the imagination. I felt so stupid. At that moment, I hated myself. I wanted to get up and leave, but was too much of a coward, I was too far into this already, so what was the point, and besides, I felt like I could barely move anyway. The floor shook with a thud as Caylee jumped down from her dresser, then I jumped a bit as the rubber tip of her shoe grazed my bare leg while she stepped over me to inspect the other side of her room, her shelf, the inside of her closet.
That damn party. That damn game. Late night, post-graduation, with alcohol, truth-or-dare, and everyone spilling personal secrets, so why not, and everyone seems to be open anymore about perverted stuff anyway, so why not open up a bit when my turn comes for truth? Why not admit to some friends that I've always had some fantasies about sexual submission, BDSM, serving girls, er, women, that sort of thing. You know. It's not that uncommon. Lots of laughs, oh my god. That damn walk home with Caylee, not a particularly close friend, but an acquaintance since back in fifth grade, known her forever, and laughs turn into serious talk, what exactly did you mean, Chris, what sorts of fantasies, and talk leads to more talk, and walking leads to sitting on her back porch, and discussions of slavery, domestic service, foot-kissing, spanking, chastity.
I could hear Caylee moving clothes in her closet, hangers sliding along the bar, checking to see that every outfit she'd told me to iron had been ironed, and ironed well. I heard her opening desk drawers. She must have been looking inside, making sure I'd organized her things just like she wanted. God, it had been a long day. Had it been worth it? I'd been working - but not just working, I'd been serving Caylee. There had been that sickening, delicious pit in my stomach from time to time when I'd thought about what I was actually doing, just who I was obeying, especially when she would appear unexpectedly in the doorway with that beautiful smile, laugh at me a little, shake her head, then leave. I felt my throat sort of heave in an awful, incredible way every time.
Occasionally as I worked I'd think about the morning after the party, when Caylee showed up unexpectedly at my door. I still got the chills thinking about it. My stomach was churning now, remembering it, and the submissive feelings were flooding back.
Early morning doorbell. Opening it to see Caylee's beautiful face right there outside our front door. First time that had happened, ever. Brown hair slightly unkempt, light brown eyes locked on mine, serious look, slight smirk. She wore an old t-shirt, jeans and flip-flops, her hand on her hip. Conversation through the doorway. Matter of fact question, point blank. She didn't even bother with a "Hello."
"So Chris. What would you do if I let you serve ME?"
I almost choked. I couldn't answer. I think I nearly fainted.
"I mean not like all the time or anything, but just like maybe once. One time, one day to serve me. To do everything I tell you, and work for me. Serve me. Submit to me. Would you be up for it?"
"Y-y-yeah! I mean yes!"
"Good!" Caylee smiled, an actual full smile now. "Some conditions though. One time only. And you do everything I say. But not until after you've proven yourself." Caylee looked down, smiling, twirling one finger around another in thought. "You talked about chastity, right?"
"That's right..." Suddenly, I wondered if the previous night's conversation was such a good idea.
"Well, Chris, I need to know, and you HAVE to be honest..." I remembered her chirping giggle, then Caylee suddenly covered her mouth with her hand. It's an image I'll never forget - Caylee's smooth hand, short-cut nails painted a very light blue covering, then clamping down on her own mouth, obviously covering up a laugh, trying not to reveal how funny this was to her. The night before, she had listened seriously, had been so understanding. In the morning, it was obvious to her that she couldn't help but laugh at my fantasies. She bit down a little on her hand, then took it away, her face showing something between a grimace and a smirking smile. "How often do you masturbate?"
Oh god, this was even more embarrassing.
"I, um..."
"Come on, I know you do it, obviously. Jeez, just tell me." I recalled Caylee's suddenly serious stare. "For real, Chris. Tell me... I mean now!"
"Yes. Um. Usually every night, Caylee. Sometimes twice a day?"
She had put both hands over her mouth this time, bent over, and started laughing, this time not even trying to hide it. Caylee was actually trembling with laughter. Already, I was beginning to die a little inside.
"Oh my GOD this is gonna be tough for you." She breathed a sort of long, groany sigh as she finished her laugh, throwing her hair back, running her hand through it. "Still, you have to do it. And you can. And you WILL! OK. One month. One month from today. That's when you get to serve me. But between now and then, chastity. Like, total chastity. You may NOT masturbate. No doing this." She mimed a back and forth motion with her hand. She laughed again. I think my mouth just dropped a bit as I began to take in what would be in store for me over the next month, the fact that Caylee would know about it, the fact that Caylee was in CHARGE of it. I watched Caylee's hand, the erotic motion she was imitating with it, and just stared. "Oh god, this is funny. So like, no wanky wanky for you. And obviously, no sex with anyone. None. Nothing. No orgasms. Got it?"
She gave me a sort-of-sympathetic smile. As it began to sink in, I had just sighed. This was going to be horrible. I'd had no idea how I would make it. I had never gone that long before. "Yes. Yes ma'am?"
"That's 'Yes, Caylee.' I'm too young to be a ma'am."
"Yes, Caylee."
