As the week wore on, it became increasingly difficult to obey Master's command that I not touch myself. It was amazing, as I had never had much deSire to masturbate before, suddenly I found myself constantly craving a touch between my legs. Briefly, I even considered making an appointment to see a doctor, hoping that he or she would touch me the way Mistress had, but somehow I knew that real exams were not quite like that. Surprisingly, it did not occur to me to disregard Master's order, no matter how difficult I found restraint. I suppose it was this fact, more than anything else, that made me sure of my decision to accept their offer.
I spent most of my time packing up my apartment. I hadn't been living alone long enough to collect much stuff, so it didn't take long. I quit my job, but kept working until Friday so that I wouldn't have too much spare time to just sit around and think; also if I stayed busy, I wouldn't think so much about how I wasn't allowed to touch myself in any way that might displease my Master and Mistress.
I did have to take an afternoon to shop for a dress. I did not have anything that I thought would meet the requirements set forth by my mistress. I felt naughty as I tried on the dresses, just knowing the reason I was there and imagining wearing one without anything beneath it.
On Friday night, I could hardly rest at all, I was so nervous about the next day. When I finally did fall asleep, it was only for a few hours. I was up early on Saturday morning, so I spent my time trying to make myself as beautiful as possible. I shaved my legs and my underarms and considered my pubic hair. Mistress had said that it had to go, so I spread shaving cream over my mound and started shaving it off. My inexperience hampered me, I had not thought to cut it shorter first and my safety razor was quickly clogged with coarse curls. Eventually, I was smooth. It had taken a long time to muddle through, but that was good; it gave me less time to worry about the day ahead.
I put on makeup and dressed, then left my apartment. I was in the parking garage before I realized that I had put on panties and a bra without even thinking about it. Cursing myself for being so stupid, I looked around and, seeing nobody around, I slipped off my forbidden panties. I then unhooked my bra and pulled it out through a sleeve. I had not realized how much my maneuvering would raise my dress until I felt a cool breeze directly on my newly naked pussy. I shivered and tugged my skirt down to make sure I was covered. When I turned around, I saw one of my neighbors staring at me.
Mr. Swanson lived on a different floor. I rarely saw him, but whenever I did, he seemed to be leering at me. This time was no different. I could almost swear I saw drool forming at the corner of his sixty-year-old mouth; I knew then that I had flashed him and I was humiliated, although a tiny flicker of arousal also took root at the thought. He started moving toward me and I hurried for my car, leaving my undergarments in a pile on the garage floor.
It was 8:45 when I arrived at the home of my master and mistress. I sat in the car for a while, trying to calm my breathing, but eventually could not take it anymore and made my way up to the house.
I rang the doorbell with one of my trembling fingers, and it was opened promptly, as if someone had been waiting just on the other side.
"You're early." Mistress's voice was disapproving. "What if we had been sleeping?"
Her query made no sense, they were expecting me in seven minutes. I opened my mouth to say as much, but then realized that her anger was a tactic, something to make me remember my place, so I only apologized and stood, silently on the porch, until she invited me inside a few minutes later.
Fortunately it was not cold out, but there was an early morning breeze and I could feel it every once in a while lifting my skirt a bit as I stood on the porch, being watched intently by Mistress. When I was allowed into the house, Master held his hand out expectantly and I placed my driver's license and keys in it. He placed the items on a shelf without a word. It was inconveniently high, but not entirely inaccessible. I felt a small measure of relief at the idea that I was not to be held unwillingly as a prisoner.
"Undress." Mistress commanded me. I had expected that directive and chose a knit dress without closures for expediency. In only a few seconds, I managed to remove it and was standing before my hosts naked, with my fists clenched at my sides to prevent me from giving in to my instincts and covering my body.
Both Master and Mistress stared at me for long moments. Just when I felt that I might scream with the anticipation of it all, Master finally spoke. "You quit your job?"
"Yes, Sir."
"You gave up your apartment?"
"I gave notice, Sir, but I have three months left on my lease. I did not have the ready cash to pay for it in advance."
"It will be taken care of, slut. Kneel." I did so and he continued. "You will obey us in every way at all times. You will be punished both for correction and our pleasure. In exchange, we will keep you safe. You will not be permanently marked unless, in the case of something like a piercing or tattoo, you have consciously agreed to it."
"Thank you, Master."
"You may be loaned out to others or made to service guests in our home," a chill ran through me, "but I promise that any partners you have at our command will be safe and disease free."
I tried to thank him again, but I could not find my voice. He looked at me expectantly and eventually I managed to whisper words of gratitude.
"Your safe word is 'chicken wings'." He smiled at the reference to my former employer. You will not be punished for using the safe word, but there are consequences. The first time you use it, you will be set aside for one day; the second time, for one week; and the third time you use it, you will leave us forever. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir." I was beginning to get overwhelmed and although I had used the bathroom just before I left, I felt the urgent need to pee again. I suppose I had a nervous bladder. I wanted to say something, but the intense looks on both the faces that loomed above, frightened me out of speaking out.
"At the conclusion of every week you spend with us, five hundred dollars will be deposited into your savings account. I will take care of the taxes so that you always receive the full amount. For legal purposes, your title is housekeeper, and you will be expected to perform some domestic duties as well as sexual ones"
"Yes, Sir." He looked at me in silence and it seemed the rules were over.
Mistress then stepped forward. "Follow me to the basement."
I rose to do so, and managed to find my voice. "May I use the restroom, please?"
Mistress did not respond, but moved toward the basement door, so I followed. Once we had reached the bottom of the stairs, she turned to me and spoke. "To prevent your bodily functions from being an inconvenience to us, you will be trained to a schedule."
'Trained,' I thought to myself, 'like a dog?' I did not say as much because I realized that was exactly what she meant.
"You will be permitted to use the toilet now so that you do not make a mess on our equipment, but over the next two weeks, your body will learn that you may move your bowels only in the morning and urinate then and once in the evening."
It sounded crazy, surely my body couldn't be made to adhere to her schedule. Still, I responded with the expected "yes, Ma'am."
There was a bathroom in the corner of the enclosed but brightly lit room and she pointed me in its direction. I entered and moved to close the door, only to find there wasn't one. I did not know how to phrase my question, but fortunately, Mistress anticipated it.
"You are allowed no privacy as our slave. While your waste disposal gives neither of us any pleasure to observe, you may not do it, nor anything else, behind a closed door." I was a little appalled, but appreciated her frankness.
I sat on the toilet, feeling an intense urge to void my bladder, but unable to make it respond to me while under the other woman's gaze. Her stare became more intense and disapproving as I tried to force myself to pee, relaxing in tiny increments as I reminded myself that at least Master was not there to see me. Finally the urine came, there was not much, but I felt great relief. It was as I was wiping myself clean that Master appeared. I flushed the toilet and stood to wash my hands, trying to ignore the obviousness of my nudity and the fact that I was being watched.
Once out in the main room, I was told to kneel again. It was more uncomfortable here on the concrete floor than it had been upstairs on carpeting, but I pressed my lips shut; I knew I was not to complain. Master stepped forward and fastened something about my neck, it was not until he had buckled it that I realized what it was: a leather collar, like a dog would wear, complete with a D-ring for a leash. I supposed this was for the training Mistress had mentioned earlier.
"Thank you, Master." I managed to croak. The collar was not so tight so as to restrict my breathing, but I could feel it acutely when I swallowed.
"Get on the exam table!" Mistress commanded.
I scrambled to do so, unsure of what other parts of me she could examine. Again, she locked my legs into place. I kept my arms at my sides, not covering any part of my body, which seemed to be acceptable as nobody made any move to restrain them.
Standing between my legs, Mistress grabbed one of my labia in each hand and pulled them apart, barking in laughter as she did so. "Doug, come check this out!"
I wondered what she saw. Could it be that she knew I was a bit aggressive with my loofah there last night, that I had found it felt good to wash in that area but had justified the small amount of self-touching by calling it cleanliness?
Master's rougher fingertips brushed between my lips and he laughed. "First time shaving your pussy, was it slut?"
"Yes, Sir."
