Well... I've sold your contract!
WHAT!!!
I've sold your contract. Remember, the bet was for 24 hours, anything asked for, no questions, done to the letter. I've sold your contract so I want you to obey your new owner just as you would me. If you don't, I'll hear about it and this whole day will be null and void and you will still owe me a day. Now before I say anymore you will go clean yourself up and finish tiding this place again.
Her smile lights up her whole face.
I'm a little uncomfortable with this unknown factor and while I am thinking about it, I finish cleaning the dishes from dinner, but the towels in the wash, wipe down the massage table again and but the oils back where they belong. I then step in and have another quick shower. Amazing how a little light cleaning works up a sweat isn't it.
This definitely wasn't part of the original deal. Although it wasn't expressly stated that it could not be done, the implied wager was anything SHE requested. I start to think about my relationship with Susan and wonder exactly how much trust we have with one another. We've been friends for years. I'm sure she wouldn't jeopardize that over a simple little trivia contest. But still... this is Susan we're talking about.
When I'm finished and dressed in my sweats again (which have, in the mean time, been washed and dried), I emerge to find Susan gone and her chair occupied by another woman I've never met before.
She's drop dead gorgeous. Tall, taller than me, also with red hair but again I'm not sure it is her real hair color. She speaks very decisively but I still get the feeling she has never had a slave before and just doesn't quite know how to handle it. She's almost, uncomfortable. It slowly dawns on me that I am too. I'm not use to NOT looking down when talking to a woman and the feeling is a little disquieting.
I'm about to ask what it is she wants but decide not to. I'm a slave remember. I stand quietly and wait to see where this is all going. She sits. She starts to talk but doesn't. She starts again. Again she changes her mind. Panic sets in.
Hmm... how to exploit this to my best advantage???
"Look," she finally says walking toward me, "I'm enrolled in this beauty school course and... well I came in from out of town to attend so I don't know anybody here and... you see I asked Susan for a job. I said I would work for free for a while just to get experience because I was having a hard time finding people to practice on. She said she couldn't hire me until after I pass the course but she said she could help with the finding people to practice on part. Does this make any sense to you?"
I nod. I contemplate using my god given ability to bull-shit my way out, but out of the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of the red light from the security camera and I know if I do Susan will know. It's not that I'm afraid of the Susan... and if fact I could just walk away and nothing much would be said. I did give her almost my entire day and I worked like a dog cleaning up this place. Susan certainly has nothing to complain about. I might take some good natured ribbing but it would eventually blow over. I have to admit too that it wasn't all "work."
O.K. what about this new situation. The woman has come down here ready and expecting to go to work. If I walk out now it will sure make Susan look foolish. And, what-the-hey, it's only a hair cut, right? I'm sure if this woman screws it up too bad, Susan will make it right tomorrow.
"It is far to complicated for a simple slave like me to understand." I say jumping back into character. "I am here to do whatever the master asks."
I bow my head and look at the floor. Submitting to Susan was one thing, she and I are friends and we both know the circumstances, but I don't know this other person from Adam and playing the slave to her feels very uncomfortable.
A smile crosses her face. No... it's more a sigh of relief. This must have been a real problem for her. I recognize that this is a person in need and I am in a position to help. I would have helped her even if I was not under this obligation to Susan. Funny how our society has deemed it inappropriate to ask for help from a stranger.
A little raise of the eyebrow asks what she wants of me. I am still a slave after all and really can't be making assumptions. I have to wait till she tells me what to do.
"Oh... um... right... let's start with the hair. Why don't you have a seat in the..." She stops. Pauses. "Sit here" she tentatively demands pointing to one of the chairs beside the wash basin. It will take her a while to get used to using her authority. I sit.
Since I just had a shower, my hair is still wet. She starts to wash my hair then realizes she doesn't need to. She changes her mind about what her next step is and I think she is a little embarrassed. Watching her internal conflict is kind of funny and I try not to smile too much.
"Go sit over there." she says pointing to one of the hydraulic chairs.
It takes a while but she eventually starts to relax. The hair cut is one of the longest hair cuts I have ever had but in the end I have to admit, it seems like a good one. The time and effort put into it make the difference. She does not have another customer waiting so is free to work until she is happy with it. There are no production quotas hampering her creativity and it pays off.
Pleased with the success of the haircut she becomes more sure of herself. "Let's do the facial now, O.K." It was a question but there was no question in her voice.
I'm taken aback a little. Facial...? I was under the impression it was just to be a hair cut. Guys don't have facials... do they?
More of "society's" rules. As much as I've rebelled against them all my life I still recognize their influence on me. I laugh at "Tim, the Tool-man, Taylor" and tell myself that I'm not like that but I have to admit that it's all a matter of degrees.
I think she sees the hesitation in me and, although she technically doesn't have to, she softens. She tells me that many guys are having facials now. "Look... I promise I won't tell anyone." she says.
How could I resist? Her eyes are so... so... they remind me of those pictures of lost puppies in the rain soaked alleys with the big eyes.
The facial is going to be tricky because I have this "Miami Vice" three-day growth. "We'll have to lose the beard." she says.
I know it sounds clichΓ© but I actually think the words "be gentle with me" and realizing this, almost break out laughing at myself. I have never had anyone shave me before. It's a very different experience and somehow... erotic. As I sit there being shaved I have to fight the urge to rest my hand on her hip. She is concentrating so hard on her task that I don't think she would have even noticed. Her face is so close to mine I can feel her breath on my neck. I try to relax and enjoy the experience.
"I've never actually shaved anyone before" she confesses after it's over. "Salons never get a call for that anymore. The only hair removal we do now is reduced to simple waxing."