I am one of several slaves my Mistress Marisa keeps in her household. I am completely owned as are the other slaves that serve her. These episodes are written with her permission. It is my, our story...
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The taxi cab drops me off in front of your house. The driver knows it's on your account, knows what I am, has been here many times before. I walk shamefully to your door. I am so embarrassed for even a cab driver to see me like this. I walk slowly, in pain. I open the front door, let myself in.
I see you sitting alone, reading in your study as I come into the house, start down the hall. I have been through this so many times I can't count. I have been sent to Michael to be punished. The abject humiliation of this out-sourced punishment is something you love and adore.
"Hello, Mistress."
I speak to you, sheepish, see you smile.
"Did you learn your lesson?"
You are wearing a white blouse with the collar up, crisp cuffs rolled back on your arms, pearls around your neck, large hoop earrings, silver, tight black skirt with seamed panty hose and stiletto heels. I see you stand and quickly move to me.
I am wearing the same drab grey dress I was sent to him in, just below the knee, school girl jumper with white blouse under it, knee high cotton stockings, white large cotton underpants under it all, and low school girl mary jane like buckle shoes, low flat heels. Feel ashamed when you dress me like this. And you know that. You pull the notebook out from under my arm, open it. You know I hate when you dress me like this. You love that too.
You browse the pages, finger leafing through. You quickly grab my face and turn it side to side.
"You don't look sorry to me."
"I am, Mistress, I am. Please, please, so grateful you send me to him, please, he lets me clean up, get made up pretty before he sends me back to you, please, I am sorry, my eyes were full of tears before he was through...please...", it goes on, run on, I almost babble. You smile slightly, let me stammer, gush, just watch the panic in my face.
"Well, okay then."
You take the book, sit back down behind your desk.
"Show me."
You don't look up from the book, just leaf through the pages.
I quickly strip out of my dress, blouse, just shoes, cotton knee stockings, cotton underpants. I start to quickly remove my panties.
"Stop! Leave them on."
You put your elbows on the table, fold your hands in front of your chin.
"That's a nice look for you right now. Why did I send you to him?"
"Because I was a bad girl, Mistress. I left your delicate underthings out on the bed, didn't put them into your drawer."
My head to the floor, feel your stare. Was so rushed that day, so in a hurry to get it all done before you came home, I left some of your things out.
"You lose sight of what this is all about, baby doll. Just three weeks ago you forgot to buy me the wine I was counting on drinking after a particularly crushing day at the office. Tell me, do you like wearing that little school girl outfit?"
"No Ma'am, you know I don't. I would never lie to you, I feel..."