Mistress Keera Pt 04

Read Mistress Keera Parts 1 - 3 for context please.

Monday dawned bright and early finding tinytim wide awake as He had been for most of the night, a second night in a row. His right wrist, cuffed to the bedpost was numb as was his left which was cuffed to his poor bound little danglers, already locked away in a bright pink CB6000 chastity device, the small size. His Mistress, bounded into his room, completely starkers, he bountiful breasts bobbed as she released him from his fetters. When his hands were uncuffed he waited expectantly.

"Oh no bitchboy, your little package stays safely locked away. Wouldn't want to frighten the horses would we?" "Ok, let us get dressed and moving."

I followed her to what was now her bedroom, I fastened her wonderful breasts into a sports bra and dressed her in a gleaming white top. Black shorts, snow white ankle socks and a pair of top of the range Nike trainers. My outfit consisted of a pink top with Cutie Pie written across it bright red, white, almost translucent tight shorts, baby pink knee socks and a pair of Mistresses cast off trainers. When I queried the fit of these, complaining about their tightness, I just got a laugh while her fingers made exclamation marks, "another demerit" As we exited the house she grabbed two drinks bottles, I was apprehensive, as yesterday I had two bottles of piss to drink. Happily when I tasted this time it was just water. A quick two miles, Mistress exhorting me to keep up on occasion. I was pleased to be able, in the main, to match her her pace.

When we arrived back she told me that she had prepared breakfast already and said we should shower together. The shower was complete agony for me. I had to shampoo her hair and wash her delicious body. My little excitement was straining against the confines of it;s plastic prison causing me to be in utter discomfort. When I had finished caring for she she got out turning the temperature control to icy cold which cured my ardour quickly. By the time I reported to her in my bedroom for my outfit I saw that she had listed the tasks I was to do for the day. The list read:

Sort and clean all Mistress's clothes. Hand wash and air dry all intimates. Iron and and hang all outfits.

Unpack all punishment instruments from cases, clean carefully, check all canes, oil as necessary, clean and polish all whips and paddles. Fit brackets and hang on the inside of your bedroom cupboard.

Check and sort all makeup and cosmetics.

Clean Mistress's bedroom and en-suite thoroughly and change bed linen.

Clean all shoes, insides and soles with your mouth, then clean and polish, shine all metallic fittings, oil and work all leather as required.

Assemble all your own clothing, make sure it is clean and get it ready for disposal to charity shops.

Clean all windows.

Mow grass and tidy garden.

Prepare evening meal

This was all written on the tasks board.

On the demerit board was written

Hesitation over money Sat,

Not using Mistress's proper title Sat

Whining and pleading Sun.

Hesitation over running gear Sun.

Disobedience in sex shop Sun.

"Do you understand your tasks bitchboy?" was her only question. " I have labelled the shoes that I want Mr. Currant to remodel for you, they still need to be cleaned."" Understand?"

I indicated that I did.

Pointing to the demerit board she simply asked "Agree?"

Again, I knew better to dissent and nodded.

My Mistress said "I am not a monster so I will give you some choice." "Pick a number between 1 and 10?"

I was caught. Thinking if I say a low number like two or three it would only mean two slaps but I would disappoint her. What to do? I thought for a minute and said "Seven."

"Good choice, maybe not as high as I would have chosen, but nonetheless..." "So, when I get home this evening we will clear the demerit board." She wrote a large 7 on the board.

"Now today's outfit, another choice, Pink or Yellow?"

I needed a break from the Pink and answered, " Yellow please Mistress."

She brought me to her bedroom. Handed me a yellow crop top, yellow thong panties and a tiny yellow skirt, yellow knee socks completed the outfit. She told me I was lucky as she had the perfect pair of yellow heels to suit. She told me that unfortunately they were only two inch heels, but they would have to do. Saying that she was able to thread chains through the buckles and padlock them in place,

"Now Jewellery."

She used one of the keys that hung around her neck to unlock my chastity cage, quickly replacing it with a bright yellow version of the same model. CLICK. And my subjective status was confirmed for another day. I dressed quickly and posed for her inspection. She tweaked this and that. Hung a yellow bead necklace around my neck, clipped some large yellow earrings in place, and rummaging on her cosmetics table applied a thick coating of lipstick to my lips, giving me the tube and told me that I would need to refresh it regularly.

"Now come on my little yellow buttercup and wave me off to work!"

Cringing and mortified I stood on the doorstep and waved her off, driving away in my car, she blew the horn many times as I stoop, a hapless excuse for a man, in my yellow ensemble, pride shredded, my manhood locked away, as my sense of self worth disappearing as fast as she left me.

A text from Mistress said. "In all your excitement you forgot to have breakfast. It is laid out for you in the kitchen. It will keep your strength up. Enjoy!"

On the kitchen table was a bowl of mushy oatmeal and a pint glass of what was undoubtedly Mistress's piss. The oatmeal had a funny consistency but I was so hungry I ate it up. I drank down the piss, I don't know why, I mean I could have poured it down the sink but I didn't, it just shows how submissive I was,

I worked hard during the morning, it was enjoyable to be able to spend some time with Mistress's clothes particularly her intimate garments. The sorting went quickly and was relatively easy. I piled all the underwear into a laundry basket and brought it downstairs to hand wash. The stirs proved difficult in the heels. The soundtrack to my labours was the clinking of my shoe chains and padlocks, the rattle of my yellow necklace and the clanking of the my padlocked manhood. I got the first laid of underwear hand washed and hung out to dry and turned my attention to the punishment instruments. They were contained within the three snooker cue cases. I opened them out in the bed. The first one contained rattan canes, the second riding crops and paddles and the third whips. Serious kit. I started by working out how many hooks I would need, a quick furtive trip to the garage for lots of hooks and rails and tools and I was able to fashion a resting place for all of these punishment instruments on the inside of my wardrobe.

I then set to cleaning. I tested all the canes for signs of fraying. Cleaned them thoroughly and used the cane oil that was in this case. I hung them, grading them by thickness and length, knowing that I would probably be receiving some of my seven strokes if punishment from them later that evening. Turning to the crops and paddles they were cleaned oiled and hung for Mistress's approval. The whips scared me, but again I swallowed my fear and got on with my work.

Turning to her makeup and cosmetics I organised them as best as I could. Anyones that were worn or well used or almost empty I boxed up for Mistress's advice.

I then set to cleaning. I cleaned her room from top to toe. Piling all her shoes outside on the landing, I cleaned the bathroom until it was gleaming. I stripped the bed of all covers and threw them on the landing for cleaning. Downstairs I took in her dried intimate garments and got to work ironing and pressing all her clothes, hanging them as I went. Putting the bedclothes on a wash, I replenished the towels in her bathroom. I then hand washed the remaining underwear hanging it out to dry.

My phone rang, a messenger video call, thankfully it was my Mistress. I showed her the extent of my progress of the tasks she had assigned me.

"Shoes next, carry on bitchboy," were her only words of encouragement. " I am on my lunch break, let me see how you tackle this part of your task."

I brought down the pile that Mistress had selected for Mr. Currant to remodel. About six pairs altogether, five pairs of shoes and on pair of boots. In the kitchen utility room I assembled my gear, a bowl of water, clothes polish and oil with metal polish for the buckles and eyes.

"Get that tinytim tongue to work," came my Mistress's voice.

I started with the boots, working my tongue deep within and cleaning all the built up sweat satins and fluff.

"Don't spit now, swallow,"commanded my Mistress.

Gagging, I complied. And moved to clean the soles, licking sucking and swallowing as I went. When I had all of them cleaned by my mouth Mistress bade me carry on as cleaned, polished and detailed all the pairs, shining the metal parts as I went. I packed these and left them in the hallway. I slowly worked my way through all the shoes, even the new ones. Licking the insides, tonging the soles and swallowing all the first fluff and sweat as I went, before cleaning and polishing them to make an impressive array of footwear on the floor of what used to be my bedroom.

I then set to work on packing my clothes and shoes and packed them into suitcases and boxes as instructed. I had just finished placing the last box and was looking forward to a break before the gardening and windows when the doorbell rang...

Oh no, what now...Neighbours, friends, dor to door sakesmen, missionary preachers. Comments and suggestions welcomed.