Bzzz bzzz
Connor lifted the phone from his desk and looked at the unknown number. Opening the message, his stomach does a somersault and his heart practically skips a beat.
'My feet are waiting' is what the screen says. It could of course only be one person.
'How did you get my number?' he quickly replies. 'And what exactly are you expecting?'
'Less question, more action.' Then soon after, 'Or you know what the consequences will be' He stared at this message for a moment and let out a deep sigh. The next message included an address, and it finally hit him that he couldn't just ignore the threat. Connor headed for his car.
The address led him to one of the most affluent neighborhoods in the city, the roads lined with houses of a size nobody could truly ever need. He followed the road up a hill to the end of a cul-de-sac, and looked up at the monstrosity of a home that must belong to Haley. He parked his car on the street two houses away, and walked up to the wrought iron gate that stood at the end of the driveway. He pressed the intercom button and waited for Haley's voice to crackle out of the box: "Front door, up the steps and make a u-turn to the right," was all she said. The gates swung open intimidatingly.
Connor proceeded to the front door, still marveling at the size of the house and wondered what Haley's parents must do for a living. It was equally as lavish inside, with enough posh excess in decoration to stack up to any home in the Hamptons. The door opened to a grand double staircase foyer, elaborate tile patterns on the floor, and art, plants, and instruments visible among the furniture in the rooms to either side. He quietly padded up the right staircase and turned to the right as instructed, seeing a door open a crack with music heard from within. The boy slowly approached and knocked gently, the door swinging open a bit as he did.
"Ahh, there he is," he heard from a mouth out of sight. The room had a large canopy-style bed extending from the wall to the left, with a door just to the left of that. A large TV hung across from the bed, with a small table beneath. Two windows on the wall opposite the door shone light in, with a tall hutch between them. Straight ahead and to the right, past the TV was part of the room that jutted out further right, but he could not see around the corner until he approached. When he did, he found a desk against the far wall, with a third window above it, this one offering a view over the entire neighborhood. The alcove was lined with bookcases built into the walls, and Haley sat comfortably in the center, seated in a luxurious office chair. She wore a loose fitting grey cotton sweatshirt cut in the way that made it hang from one shoulder, with three quarter sleeves and yoga pants. Her brown hair was in a bun and her face as stunningly sculpted as ever.
She turned toward him, "It's about time."
"Sorry, first time in this neighborhood," he offered.
"Well I promise it won't be your last," she said with a malicious smile. "Now I believe you have a job to do, little slave boy."
This last part felt like a stab to Connor's chest, but he held back a wince and stood still, not knowing how he'd be completing the unavoidable reason he was there. "How... how am I to serve you?" he stammered, incredibly nervous already
"Well you simply have to crawl under my desk and do a lot more of what you got a taste for at the track. If you're a good boy, you may be rewarded and if not, well let's just say it'll either be your head or your reputation that's hurting."
"Okay" Connor muttered, approaching slowly.
"That's another thing," Haley said confidently as he got down on all fours and began to clamber down to the position. "You'll be calling me mistress, goddess, really any term that captures how pitiful you are compared to me."
"Fine," Connor again murmured, but when an angry look from Haley was shot in his direction, he quickly added, "mistress. I will do so, mistress."
As he crawled under, Connor was instructed to lay on his back, and Haley's chair was designed in such a way that the wheeled base slid over his body, holding him in place. He finally took notice of what Haley's footwear, a pair of furry boots that looked like they would be worn almost exclusively around the house, not out and about. He could already smell them.
Haley waved them in front of his face, flexing her ankles back and forth. The bottoms had shorter fur, but smelled much stronger now that they dangled above him. They suddenly dropped and rested on his face, closing off his sight and smell of the outside world. The odor was different from what he remembered at the track, less skunky and more like an aged cheese. He did nothing but continue to breathe as best he could and strands of fur tickled the inside of his nose on each inhale. He heard a voice from above as the feet began to life one at a time and pat back down against his skin in an alternating right/left pattern.
"How do they smell, servant boy?"