The house was looking even more forlorn that the last time Gill had viewed it. Now that summer was properly under way the weeds seemed to have gained a second wind, become supercharged. A huge creeper had wound it's way up the gable wall, it fronds reading almost to the guttering and the garden would not have looked out of place in the Amazon rain forest. Simon looked at it, realising for the first time the enormity of the task that he had taken on.
Nevertheless as he contemplated his life ahead his overriding emotion was excitement. For the first time in his life he was on the brink of an undertaking that had always been an all pervasive dream, his total, absolute submission to a woman. He wanted it not just for an expensive hour of titillation in some city dungeon where just one floor above mundane life with all it's boring mediocrity continued, but genuine full time submission to a woman who was equally excited by the prospect.
They had decided upon July 1st as the date that their contract should begin, running until the end of the year. With her HR background Gill had thoughtfully included a mutual release clause after one month, in case they turned out to be unsuitable to one another. In the intervening period she had enjoyed shopping for the equipment that she would need. It was a new experience for her, but nevertheless one that she enjoyed immensely. The first item on her list was a collar. It would she thought need to be something substantial, symbolising her control over Simon. She found exactly the right one. Three inches wide and made of heavy saddle grade leather with a sturdy steel D ring at the throat for a leash to be attached when required.
It provided a certain degree of discomfort for the wearer, something that she wanted, fully intended. The stiff leather served to force his head into an upright position. It would be a constant reminder to Simon that as far as Gill was concerned he was nothing, merely a piece of owned property, no different from any inanimate object that she might possess. A small brass padlock situated at the rear ensured that it would not get removed, even at night. He would need to learn to sleep with this symbol of Gill's ownership of him locked firmly in place about his neck.
The second item that she purchased was no less symbolic of her total control of him and his masculinity. The small set of concentric metal bands looked innocuous enough, not unlike some piece of household equipment. But once fixed into place and connected to the leather harness that strapped around his waist together with the cropper strap that ran between his buttocks it served to contain his genitals within a securely locked metal cage. Whilst this allowed him to urinate all but the smallest semi erection was very effectively prevented. Like the collar this device was held into place by a small padlock and together they delivered total control to Gill as his contracted owner, and as a by product removed every element of masculinity, effectively transforming him into a eunuch for the indeterminate period of his wearing it.
She made it quite clear to a simon that an orgasm was a privilege that would only be granted if it was earned, something to be given only sparingly, if at all. As she explained this to Simon on the first day of the contract he felt himself falling still more deeply beneath her spell, allowing her to collar and then harness his masculinity represented the ultimate in male submission. It somehow felt right to him that it should be this way, he belonged to her now. Gill stressed that there were no promises regarding his sexual release and that, should she make such a decision, he might be denied for weeks, months or even years.
Gill would from this moment on control his destiny. She cut short any conversation between them with a curt "You have work to do boy." He meekly assented and went about his tasks, the first of which was to empty the house of all the unwanted contents into the big metal skip that had been delivered the previous day. The situation of the house was very secluded and completely private at the far end of an unmade up lane and screened by rows of trees, now in full leaf. Privacy was important, this type of arrangement that they had agreed was far from common, and certainly unknown within the wilds of rural Suffolk.
Simon soon became healthily tanned working in the July sun, his body darkening by the day. For her part with her fair skin Gill stayed out of the strong summer sun, remaining pale and interesting. By the end of August the house was beginning to take on some semblance of order and she decided that it was high time that he dealt with the cellar. A pine door in the hallway gave onto a set of stone steps that led down to a large rectangular room. In Aunt Naomi's time it had been used only for storage and was still filled with all manner of bric a brac, most of it dating back half a century. Simon spent half a day ferrying it to the now brimming skip and a further day and a half cleaning the grey quarry tiled floor and painting the brick walls. With what Gill had in mind for this subterranean chamber the comparison could easily be drawn with a man digging his own grave.
The dog days of August had now faded away into a cool and showery September. Simon having satisfied the probationary period had signed the full contract and was currently occupied with replacing the old style flowery carpets with a new wooden floor. Gill was impressed with his versatility. He worked assiduously at his tasks. Now that the summer was over she wore her laced knee high leather boots on an everyday basis. It was something that she enjoyed immensely, feeling the shape of her body altered by their high heels, imparting a hint of arrogance to her slightly strutting gait.
Every morning once he had cleared away breakfast Simon was ordered to take his place at her feet and thread the long black laces around the rows of steel hooks that made their way up from the insteps of her boots, drawing the supple black leather closely about her slim, shapely legs and culminating in neatly tied bows at the knee. With the cooler weather her leather jeans had come out. Worn beneath the boots they imparted a look of glamorous dominance, she had the figure for tight trousers and walking into Northdene represented a hazard to traffic as male drivers temporarily lost concentration as their attention wandered from the road.
Gill Howerd settled herself at the window table in The Bell Hotel from where she could observe all the comings and goings along the High street. Now that the frenetic pace of high summer had subsided it was safe to return for a quiet lunchtime glass of wine. No longer did the place echo to the shouts of unruly children, the contrast with the previous month when she had carefully avoided anywhere in the town was quite marked.
Gill looked through the wine list before ordering a large glass of Pouilly Fume and started to browse the glossy magazine that she had bought to consider colour schemes for the house. "Would you mind if I sat here, the other tables all seem to be taken?" The question was asked by an immaculately coiffured dark haired woman of about her own age.
"Not in the least, please do." She motioned to the seat opposite. The woman had that distinctive aura of metropolitan money about her, as indeed did most of the weekenders coming to Northdene. She produced a copy of The Guardian and began to peruse the media and arts section, taking occasional sips from her glass . Gill laid down her magazine having drained the last of her wine. "Can I get you another, I am ready for a refill?" The woman asked, finishing her own.
"That's very kind of you," Gill replied.
One of the aproned waiters was summoned and he brought an ice bucket with a whole bottle of Chablis cooling. The woman reached across and shook Gill's hand. "Jane Harrington-Miller", she said by way of introduction. She poured wine into their two glasses as she continued. "I am just down for the weekend to meet friends, I arrived early so I thought I may as well take advantage." They clinked their glasses together and began to drink. "It's so good to get away from London for a few days. I run a small television production company, things can get a bit hectic at times so ts important to relax when you can."
The bottle gradually diminished and Gill went to the bar and ordered food from the tapas menu. The waiter brought a tray of various small dishes that the two women shared. "I do love your boots," said Jane. " I really must get myself a new pair before the winter begins in earnest, they look as if they take a bit of lacing up though." She poured the last of the wine into their glasses.
Gill's tongue was beginning to be loosened by the effects of the wine. "Oh I have a confession to make in that respect. I have this guy, shall we call him a handyman? Well more a sort of servant really. It's his job to lace them up, it's quite enjoyable really, probably for him too, though that's not my concern."
