I sat at my Goodwill desk, my butt sore from the curb-find chair that graced my dismal one room efficiency. Dismal notwithstanding, the rent was past due and as I waited for my five year old computer to boot up I wondered for the 100th time just how late I could be without getting evicted. When the old desktop finally whirred to life I pulled up my bank account, piggy-backing on the neighbor's WiFi. Thank God they hadn't ever put a password on it. My bank balance was $7.86. Maybe I'd treat myself to a fabulous dinner at Taco Bell tonight.
I thought for a while about my fabulous job at the local coffee house and how much I hated my boss. I thought some more about the college degree that I'd almost finished, and wondered how I'd gotten to this point. A mountain of student loan debt, no way to pay it off, and nothing to show for it. Depressed and horny both, I opened another tab and logged in to FetLife. Not like I had plans for the evening, anyway.
Nothing interesting on the few groups I monitored, and I'd never had the nerve to go to any munches. I read all the BDSM erotica I could get my hands on but my real life sexual experiences were pretty tame. Doggy-style was as kinky as the college boys I'd dated could muster, and my fantasies would probably send them running home to Mama.
I'm not even sure why I started looking at the personal ads. Maybe I was just tired of thinking about how bad my situation had become. There were a lot of crazy ads; mostly male subs looking for women to use them. They left me cold. But then I saw it. It was on the second page, and the caption might as well have jumped off the page and grabbed me by the tits.
'Personal Servant Desired'
The ad was eloquently written - unusual on a website devoted to kink.
'Husband and wife seek subservient female to cater to our EVERY whim. Must be bi-sexual, and eager to accept commands from us both. Live-in situation with all expenses paid, plus a generous salary.'
My heart skipped a beat and my panties got moist just reading those three sentences. Not only was it the answer to all my problems, but it was pretty fucking hot too. Before I had time to second guess myself I sent a reply to the ad.
'I hope I can be the servant you're looking for. Please tell me when and where I can apply in person.'
I settled in to wait for the reply and slid my hand inside the waistband of my shorts, imagining the possibilities...
I woke up with a start, heart pounding and panicky. I had been dreaming that I came home from work to find all my meager belongings out on the lawn in front of my apartment. My landlord had evidently had enough of my stalling and evicted me. When I saw the light flashing on my laptop, I realized it must have been the new message indicator that had awakened me. Now my heart began to race in earnest. I clicked on the new email, and sure enough it was from them.
'Miss Danielle, we were so excited to get your note expressing your interest in the position. Unless you have prior engagements, we will send a car for you promptly at 6 pm tomorrow night. Please be appropriately dressed for public perusal on the outside, but underneath your street clothes we expect you to be ready for your audition.'
I had nothing left to lose and was more than a little intrigued. Immediately, I rifled through my wallet looking for the one credit card that wasn't maxed out. I called the salon and made an appointment for the works, remembering that there was a lingerie shop right next door. This was one audition I didn't intend to blow.
The next 36 hours were filled with a flurry of activity on my part. I bought a black lace bra and panty set, and splurged on sheer black hose and garters to go with them. I'd found a dress in the back of my closet that would work as I assumed my prospective employers would be more interested in what was underneath. A simple black pair of heels and my wardrobe was complete.
The salon took three hours and most of the credit I had left to use. I got a haircut, mani/pedi, eyebrows sculpted, and a Brazilian wax. I went home and washed away any remnants of wax, shaving my legs carefully. Keeping an eye on the clock, I dressed quickly and stood in front of the full length mirror I'd scored at the thrift shop.
I knew I looked good and also knew I'd look better with the dress off. I only wished that the knowledge would ease the queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. It wasn't just fear of the unknown that squeezed my chest. If this didn't work out, what else was there?
As described, at exactly 6 pm a sleek black Lincoln Town Car pulled up in front of my building. Somehow I'd known it would be on time so I'd been waiting just inside the door. A tall, lean man opened the driver's door, climbed out, and began to walk towards me. Horrified at the thought of anyone seeing the inside of my tiny apartment I hurried out locking the door behind me; like there was anything to steal.
"Miss Danielle, I presume?" the chauffeur inquired as I rapidly closed the distance between us.
"Yes sir, that's me."
He laughed, assured me that I didn't have to call him 'sir', and took me by the elbow, leading me towards the passenger seat.
"Joel is fine, Miss."
He helped me into the backseat of the most sumptuous car I'd ever been in. Buttery leather seats and plush carpeting cradled me as we headed towards the most important job interview of my life. I was dying to ask him questions about his employers, but knew that would be the wrong move. Joel did not seem inclined to conversation anyway.
Trying desperately to calm my nerves, I gazed out the window. The entire trip only took a half hour but we might as well have taken the space shuttle. This world was night and day from the one I lived in. The homes had been growing larger gradually, further and further back from the tree lined streets. By the time Joel slowed all that was visible was massive lawns bordered by stone and wrought iron fences.
The driveway was guarded by an electric gate, but Joel pushed a button on the visor and the gate opened silently. After a quarter mile or so of driveway we rounded a curve and the house was visible. Maybe house was the wrong word to use; it looked more like a hotel to me. Now my stomach was really rolling and I wished I'd had the money for a new dress, but it was too late. Joel pulled up in front, got out and opened the rear door for me.
"Out you go, Miss. They'll be waiting for you."
Taking a few deep breaths I walked towards the front door as Joel pulled away behind me. I reached for the doorbell but before I could touch it, the massive oak door was pulled open from the inside. I guess I was expecting a housekeeper, but the person standing in the doorway was no servant. Much taller than my 5'3" and dressed in a beautiful burgundy gown with a plunging neckline, the woman looked like she'd stepped from the pages of a fashion magazine. She reached for my hands and pulled me into the house, closing the door behind me.
"Danielle, so glad you could make it. Please come in. Charles is waiting in the study for us."
The lady of the house strode off, long legs making me scurry to keep up. Her heels were even higher than mine and she looked completely at home in them. I didn't have much time to gawk, but everything about the place screamed money. Towards the back of the house she stopped at a closed door and waited for me to catch up.
"Come along, dear. In this house we don't keep my husband waiting."
