When I got home, I rushed inside and undressed enough to take a better look at the anklet that now adorned my leg and that would give my Mistress up to date information on my location. Looking at the soldered band of steel with the two almost ornamental looking bulges, I tried to convince myself that it looked enough like jewelry to pass if seen at a gym. But what kind of man wore an anklet? Certainly not me. I didn't even wear a ring, even when married. This would certainly garner attention, and I began to wonder whether I should begin to change my workout schedule, start showering at home.
As I pondered this and began to change fully into more casual clothes for the evening, the phone range. It was Her. "Yes, Mistress," came my formal greeting.
Without any small talk, She began: "you have standing permission to be at home, at your office, and on the route in between. For anything else, you require my permission. And I do mean anything, boy ... lunch out, dinner out, drinks after work, shopping ... anything. Understood?"
"Yes, Mistress, I understand ... i am to ask permission for anything else."
"No, lee," Her voice was steely. "You ask questions ... you beg for permission. As in 'please, Mistress, i beg Your permission to have lunch with a co-worker.' I will usually say yes, because as you know I am not unreasonable. But if I say no, that is final; you will accept that I have a good reason, even if you don't understand it, and will remain where you are. Am I clear, boy?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Good. Since this is the first day of this new regimen, I will give you two hours to run any errands you need, to stock up on food and other staples, in case I confine you to your house for a couple of days. It is now 7:35; I will check on your whereabouts at 9:35 ... and you'd best be back at home. Or you will regret it."
Without another word, She hung up ... and I hastened out to the nearest Jewel, frantically making a mental list of foods and other items I would need to have stored in the house. Milk, juice, cereal, bread, frozen pizza, yoghurt, soup, coffee ... I piled items rather indiscriminately into my cart, keeping an eye on my watch, even though I had plenty of time ... my head spinning with the sound of Her words echoing in my ears. As I waited in line, I drummed my fingers on the cart, racking my brain to think if I'd forgotten anything, casting furtive gazes about wondering if anyone had any idea what was happening to me, if they could see the small bulge sometimes visible on my ankle. Telling myself to calm down, I collected my thoughts as the cashier rang me out and bagged my items. Sitting in my car for a few minutes, I reviewed what had happened and how I felt about it. I was nervous and thrilled and scared and enticed and worried and aroused and ... and hell, a number of other things I didn't even have names for. One thing that was certain, though, is that I was uncertain that I had the strength to go where She was leading ... but there was another certainty, too: that I could not turn back now. So, as a light rain began to fall, I started the car and drove home, checking my watch as I pulled into my driveway, noting that I was back well in advance of the curfew She'd put on me.
As I put away the groceries, I suddenly caught a strong, fresh whiff of Her perfume, which caused me to start, in something like fear. I checked the house quickly; She was not here ... but She had been, very recently. Nothing appeared out of place or changed, but the knowledge that She had been in my house struck me as intensely intimate and made me feel vulnerable.
Keeping my cell phone with me, hoping - or perhaps fearing - that She'd call or text, I settled in to watch some television, confined to the house for the evening. But something was wrong with my cable, the screen showing nothing but static. Grumbling to myself about the quality of my cable provider, I checked to see if my wireless were down, too; not surprisingly, it was. Fumbling with an out of date Yellow Pages, I was looking for the service number and steeling myself to talk (really complain ... again) with a call center operator in Mumbai or some such place when my phone rang. It was Her.
"Yes, Mistress."
"Good boy, lee." Her voice was rich with satisfaction, it seemed to me. "Did you get the things you needed from the store?"
"Yes, Mistress, thank You."
"I have noticed that it is becoming second nature for you to thank me for everything I permit you, lee ... and that demonstrates that you are learning and internalizing the lessons you need. And that pleases me very much." She paused for a moment, I suppose to let Her words sink in. "I was at your house earlier. Did you know that?"
Smiling, my hunch confirmed, I nearly whispered. "Yes, Mistress, I thought I'd smelled Your perfume."
Without warning, there was a sudden shift in Her tone. "Are you standing, lee?"
