Arrival

You make your way through the foyer of my building, walking to the elevator. Beneath your coat you feel the chain of your leash nestled between your breasts. You pass other residents, who smile at you.

Hidden beneath your oversized coat, you feel the leather of the cuffs rubbing against your wrists and ankles. Waiting at the elevator doors, you glance around at the strangers in the foyer, nobody knowing that the only clothes you have on underneath your coat are your apron and bra.

And the word "bra" is a stretch. Picture a pink micro bikini, barely large enough to cover your nipples. Your apron, pink with black spots, is tied behind your back, just above your bare ass. Your leather collar is visible, but the metal chain and leather handhold of the leash are hidden beneath your coat.

The elevator dings, and the doors open. You step inside, and are joined by two others who live in the building. A middle aged woman and her young son.

The woman looks you up and down as her son plays on his phone. The doors close and you feel the elevator rising. The woman glances over her shoulder, eyeing the collar and lock clearly on display. Your breathing quickens as you watch her inspecting you.

The elevator comes to a halt and the doors open. The boy runs out. As the woman steps out, she turns to you, watching you as the doors close slowly.

You could swear that the woman gives you a knowing look. Was that lust in her eyes?

A few floors later, the doors open again, and you make your way to my apartment door. The hallway is well lit, and quiet. A few strangers pass by you as you reach my closed door.

You knock once.

A family passed down the hall, behind you.

You knock again.

An old man looks over at you from his door. Watching you.

You knock a third time.

You're drawing more eyes now. Do they know what you are wearing? Do they know what you are here to do? Do they want to see what is under your coat?

Another man looks at you from down the hall. You see the hunger in his eyes. He knows.

A fourth knock.

My door opens. "Sir," you moan, your voice deep, filled with the heat from all the eyes on you, from the thought that they wanted to see you.

"You may enter."

You take two steps into my apartment, and I close the door behind you.

"Coat off." I demand.

With a sly grin, you drop your coat to the floor, put your hands behind your back, and thrust your chest out.

"Yes Sir," you moan.

You feel my eyes on you. Inspecting you. I walk around you slowly, gently taking hold of your leash. I pull you roughly by your collar until you are inches from my lips, "Did you just make a mess on my floor?"

You lower yourself to your knees, keeping your eyes locked on mine, your face inches from my jeans. Picking up the coat, you fold it and hold it in front of yourself. I let the leash go slack as I reach down to take the coat from you.

"Present," I say, forcefully.

Immediately you move into your well trained Present position. You straighten your back, spread your legs, rest your ass on your heels, raise your chin up, and place your hands palm up on your thighs.

"Good Girl," I say, placing the coat in the cupboard beside the door. Still on your knees, I take the leash, "Follow."

You crawl on your hands and knees as I lead you down the hall into the living area, your breasts swaying within the micro bikini as the apron gently brushes the hardwood floor. The locks around your wrist and ankle cuffs clinking softly as you crawl after me. As we reach the living room I give you a look, "Expose" I say.

You move into the Expose position. On your knees, you sit up and straighten your back. You spread your legs wide and raise your elbows level to your ears. Crossing your hands behind your head you pull your hair off your neck and back.

"I have your equipment ready for you." On the coffee table in front of you is a bucket with an assortment of cleaning implements, as well as a collection of vibrators, ropes, whips, paddles, clamps, plugs, and a blindfold.

I squat down beside you and run my fingers down your back as you remain in your kneeling position, eyes forward, "You will start with the kitchen."

"Yes Sir," you reply.

I unhook the leash from your locked collar and stand up, "You may begin."

"Yes Sir," you say, standing up and taking the bucket handle in both hands.

I sit on the lounge, across the room, watching as you take a sponge and cleaning solution from the bucket and begin to clean. You can feel my eyes on you, wearing almost nothing, as you start cleaning the finger marks off the fridge and cupboards.

You make your way across the back wall of the kitchen, making sure to clean each cupboard door before turning your attention to the bench and cooktop beneath the cupboards. I continue to watch you, inspect you, as you turn and move onto the island benchtop and sink in the center of the room.