That evening and over the next few days and evenings, I settled into the pace Mistress was setting for me.
I cleared the walls in what was now Her bedroom of all the artwork and stored them away in the attic. I switched out the linens on the bed in the guest room. And I got used to sleeping in my new pet bed. Honestly, it was pretty comfortable, once I got used to it. I either took my lunch to the office or begged her permission by text to eat lunch out. She never refused me, though sometimes she instructed me where to go and what to order; lest I harbor any thought of disobeying, the first time she made me take a picture of the meal with my phone and send it to Her. I was relieved that I'd ordered exactly and only what she had specified.
When I begged for permission to go the gym to workout, she asked for details about which gym i belonged to and what my normal workout routine was. With those details, she said she'd get back to me shortly. Several days later, she called to tell me that I was to cancel my existing gym membership, because she had enrolled me in another, better one. After giving me the address and my new membership information, she informed me that she'd also signed me up to work with a trainer, three mornings a week. my first session was the next day at 6:00 a.m.; she warned me in a stern tone not to be late.
One afternoon, I got a call from my cell phone carrier. The customer service representative wanted to confirm that I was cancelling my current plan, transferring the phone to another account, and agreeing to parental controls on the phone. I stammered through my agreement and acceptances, babbling some invented rationale about giving the phone to one of my kids, as though the service guy cared.
Several minutes after I'd hung up with the phone company, Mistress texted me.
"In case it's not clear, I now control your phone like I control the rest of your life."
"Yes, Mistress," I replied.
"You have a lot of contacts. You'll be deleting most of them and blocking some. I'll give you the list later."
"Yes, Mistress." After that, there was no reply.
The next day, I came home from work and noticed the lingering aroma of Her perfume as soon as I'd walked through the door. I quickly went to every room to ensure that She wasn't there, waiting for me.
When I had assured myself that She wasn't, I went back through the house more carefully. In the main bedroom, I saw that She had hung several original oil paintings. The most striking was a large, brightly colored, fall landscape by an artist she would later tell me was regionally prominent. One the dining room table, arranged side by side were three paperback books, in the female domination genre: "Lyon On A Leash," "Slave to Surrender," and "The Correct Sadist." i was familiar with the first one, but not the other two. As I read the cover description of "Slave to Surrender," the phone rang buzzed; it was Mistress.
"Good evening, Mistress," I answered, kneeling as I did so.
"Hello, lee. You are home?" She asked a question She knew the answer to.
"Yes, Mistress. And I see you have been here, too."
"Yes, I have. Go to the guest bathroom."
When I had arrived there, she continued. "I have disposed of many of your toiletries, which didn't suit me. In particular, I did not like your cologne. I have replaced it with Bond No. 9." She paused a moment. "You may smell it."
I opened the bottle and held it to my nose, breathing in the blend of citrus, sandalwood, and green leaves.
"Do you like it?" Mistress enquired.
