(I've only just started posting here, so if I'm doing it wrong, please let me know!)
Hannah got a moment of warning as there was the click of metal in the door before Miss Coerator unlocked it and stepped through. She was now wearing elbow length gloves; slick, sleek and black, the hands looking like they had been smeared with some liquid. There was a slight musk in the air that accompanied her, earthy and sweaty, a touch of color in her pale cheeks.
She moved forward, standing close to Hannah, almost touching her, then reaching past her, running a finger along one of the urns. Her finger left a smear on the metal, but at least it was a shiny one, rather then showing dust.
'A start, I suppose. You have applied yourself diligently, for today at least.'
Hannah let her arms fall, barely able to lift them again. 'Thank you, Miss Coerator.'
'Now that you are fully in my employ, then "Mistress" or "Madam" would be correct.' She took Hannah's chin in her hand, a faint smear of the liquid rubbing onto Hannah's face. Had she been working on some machinery or something? It smelled faintly like lubricant. Hannah was too tired to resist, feeling hunger starting to burn in her stomach.
'Yes, um, Madam.' "Mistress" seemed far too strange and fetishistic.
'Now, I suppose I should return you to your room. Follow.'
Hannah had little choice but to obey, trailing after the woman, arms like lead. She managed to keep on her feet and not stagger against the walls, at least, but the pressure in her calves and ankles was building again. How did people manage to wear things like this all the time? She glanced down - Miss Coerator's heels on her knee-high leather boots were smaller, her hips swaying slightly as she moved, leather skirt swishing with her steps. There was no visible panty line, so either she was going commando, or she was wearing something very skimpy underneath. For a slightly crazy lady living apparently all on her own in a big old house, she certainly dressed well!
They returned to Hannah's room, as Miss Coerator (or "Madam" -- Hannah would have to remember to call her that) pulled out the heavy key from her cleavage and unlocked it again.
'While I intend to work you hard, I am not completely uncaring. As today is your first day, then you may spend the rest of it resting. I expect you to start bright and early tomorrow morning though.'
The bed looked oh-so-tempting, but Hannah managed to stay standing, at least for now. 'Thank you, Miss Coerator.' The woman's hand brushed against Hannah's bare back, making her shiver, and then pinched her, just below the frilled choker. 'I'm sorry, Madam.'
'Very good. Now, you may use the bathroom to clean up. First, strip.'
Her arms were too heavy to lift as Miss Coerator fiddled with the corset straps, some of the pressure on Hannah's body releasing itself. The dress was pulled back over her head, leaving her naked again, except for the cuffs, choker and heels. Miss Coerator -- Madam -- angled her to look at herself in the mirror, hands tight on Hannah's shoulders, breath and body hot and close.
'You have definite potential. I am a firm believer that the help should be both functional and attractive, and you more than qualify on both counts.' She had bent over slightly, her face next to Hannah's ear, breath soft against skin. Wrapped in the lubed-up gloves, her hands were slick, smearing the stuff onto Hannah's skin. 'I will do what I can to help you achieve your potential. And of course, you will lend your skills to the upkeep of this place.'
'Yes, Madam.'
'Food will be sent up.' She flicked the dress, wiping dust off, before returning it to the bag, the bag going in the wardrobe, which she closed and then locked. 'I would advise you to rest well. I have great plans for you, little Hannah.'
Hannah staggered forward, supporting herself against the mirror, as Miss Coerator left. The door, of course, locked behind her, leaving Hannah sealed in the room.
She was still wearing the mittens, hands bound into claws. They weren't locked on, but the clasps were tight -- Hannah had to work them back and forth against a bedpost until they finally released, and she could pull her hand out. She flexed her fingers, glad to be able to move them again. Getting the other one off was far easier, now she could move her hand again! Next were the shoes, the straps and laces quickly succumbing to her plucking fingers.
How long had she been working? There were no clocks, and it was summer, so the days were long; it could be any time between "afternoon" and "evening". She sat on the bed, massaging her ankles. Those shoes were bloody uncomfortable! And she was still wearing the choker. Her hands roamed over the leather, feeling the lace frills, and the metal ring at the front, over her throat. There was a metal clasp, but there didn't seem to be any release -- she would have to ask Miss Coerator to take it off later. At least it wasn't that uncomfortable.
With that done, she went to examine the bathroom. It was grand, all marble and shining metal, with a free-standing tub in the middle of the room and a cabinet filled with toiletries. She started running a bath, steaming hot water following into the tub, bubblebath added to make thick, white foam. Hopefully the choker wouldn't be marked or damaged, but at this point she needed to relax!
She slipped into the tub, letting the warm water embrace her, flowing over her limbs and soothing her. It was relaxing, the bubblebath lightly scented -- even if it was hard work, if she got to relax like this, then it might be worth it! Hannah fell further into the water, wondering how food would be served -- Miss Coerator had managed a cook, hadn't she? Or maybe she cooked it herself? The image of Miss Coerator dressed like a maid drifted into mind, her body wrapped in the corset and frilled dress, showing off her legs and bust. Although she probably wouldn't be as obedient! Those luscious red lips around a nice, chunky ball-gag, maybe, those proud eyes indignant, muted grumbled from her sealed mouth, angry at being silenced?
With her eyes closed, she started to fantasize, letting her fingers drift between her legs, stroking her sore thighs, lightly slipping into herself. Maybe if she were to seduce Miss Coerator, then she might get some more money, or some easier work? That would be nice! She played and teased with herself, getting close to the edge, but not going all the way. She wanted to leave it a little while, let the anticipation build. As the heat built up, she kept stroking, teasing, soft and gentle. Then she stood up, water sloughing down her body, and toweled herself off, wiping the suds away, draining the water from the tub.
Miss Coerator hadn't moved her case, still by the bed. There was a large wooden chest next to it, currently open and empty, with a heavy lock, although no key. In her case was tightly packed clothing, mostly slightly dull and plain, although with a few outfits in case she got the chance to go out clubbing. She glanced around, although there was no-one else in the room. Hidden away beneath it were some of her toys -- a variety of dildos and vibrators, all the things she needed to entertain herself on the long, lonely nights. And batteries. A lot of batteries! That was what had killed her arms on the way here. At least now she had something to do.
She picked up one, and flicked it on, the end twisting around. Her arms were still sore, but she stroked it against herself, sliding the vibrating wand in and out of her slick slit. With her other hand, she played with a breast, setting a regular tempo with the dildo. She was almost there when she heard metal rattling. It must be Miss Coerator at the door! It was an effort to stop as she slid the dildo under several pillows, kicking the case shut to hide the rest of her toys.
Part of the wall opened, a metal panel clanking open to show a metal tray inside, bearing a covered-up plate. It was just like room service, although it did raise the question again as to where the food came from. Miss Coerator might be cooking herself? It seemed a lot more likely there was someone else to do it for her.
Hannah lifted up the cover to find a decent spread -- fresh-cooked, by the looks of it, vegetables, some sausages, mashed potato. There was even cutlery, with handles large enough that she would be able to grab them if her hands were still bound into the mittens. Was she meant to have kept them on? She would have to put them on, and the heels again, before Miss Coerator returned in the morning. She seemed mean enough she might lock them on, and the buckles definitely had holes in where a padlock could be attached to make them impossible to remove!
