Chapter 1 – Moving in - Sunday, November 13th
My name is Patricia Teresa McKlellan, but my friends call me "PT". I was going through a dark time in my life. I had gotten fired from yet another dead-end job a few months ago. My self-confidence and enthusiasm were buried in a grave in the deep recesses of my psyche. The one bright spot in my life was serving an online Master in Second Life. He was warm and caring, making me forget about my real life misery whenever we were online together. When one of us logged out, the painful reality would set in again.
When I was so far behind on bills that my housemates were seriously considering throwing me out onto the street, he devised a plan. He sent me a bus ticket and an offer to rebuild me into something that people would admire. I leapt at the offer – I needed hope for a better life. Looking back, I was a 28 year old high school dropout. I was single with no prospects, and hadn't succeeded at much at all. I needed a drastic change.
I rang his doorbell, admiring the large suburban house, the woods behind it, and his orthodontic clinic just next door. Master was clearly successful, and I hoped that he could do the same for me.
He opened the door with a welcoming smile, clearly glad that I had arrived safely. Master looked just like his online avatar – thin, semi-muscular, with short graying hair. I walked in, towing the two suitcases that held all of my remaining worldly possessions. I didn't know what to do, so I acted in real life as I would online. I knelt down on the tile, and announced what I was actually wearing. Master enjoyed knowing. "As you can see, I am wearing a red cotton dress, and red heels. Underneath, white gartered stockings encase my legs in their shimmer, and a white satin bra and panty set cover my privates. Per your instructions, the large open grommets were installed in her bras to display her nipples Master." I nervously smiled up at him. After a few seconds, I took a sharp breath as I remembered another one of his desires, spreading my knees apart as I knelt on the tile.
Master chuckled and smiled, pulling my suitcases into a large closet that was curiously empty other than a small dresser. "It's good to see you Tits. We should go through a few rules. The list of rules will get longer as you progress through your training, but I will never overwhelm you. As you see, there is an ivy pattern on a patch of tile by the door. Whenever you are off the ivy, you will not have clothing over your nipples. However, you may wear knee pads." He held a pair of heavy duty black knee pads out for me expectantly.
I nodded understanding, and slowly lifted the dress over my head, very conscious of Master's appreciative gaze on my body. I had just physically met this man 30 seconds ago, and I was already undressing for him. That made me feel so...compliant and submissive. It somehow felt right. I folded the dress and put it in the dresser, now understanding that this is where I could change into street clothes. I took off my bra, putting it right on top of my dress. Master never expressed an interest or fetish for kneepads before, but I was willing to wear them if it helped my case. The knee pads were a stiff rubber half-ovoid shell, and a gel pad was on the inside. As I attached the wide straps above and below the knee, I realized the hidden purpose – the stiff rubber of the pads was formed to the shape of a kneeling knee. I would not be walking as his guest, I would be crawling to re-enforce my position in this relationship.
Master walked into a room just off the foyer. It had a hardwood floor, and green sectional couch was along the far wall, wrapping around to form an area which when the ottomans were in place must be a great place to cuddle. Light streamed in through a large bay window, framed by potted ferns hanging from the wall. I stared at the setup. Master had apparently sculpted this setup online as well, as my avatar spent a few hours spread eagled in his front window for any passerby to gawk at. Master continued "This is the front room – often used for just hanging out and chatting with friends and family..." I crawled after him, quite grateful that I had padding on my knees. My boobs swayed side to side as I crawled, dangling down like udders. I was quite aware of how he walked easily, and I had to crawl. My vantage point was also quite different. I was lower, and my natural view was downcast – I would need to kneel up or strain my neck to anything high. I giggled as I realized my new definition of "high" was above his waist.
He continued through a large entryway into the next room, which was quite large. "This is the dining room. The table of course has leaves to expand or contract to fit the party size." I looked at the large ornate hutch, and crawled around the table to the turret in the corner of the house, kneeling up to be able to see the backyard. I could see a small pond and trails going through the woods.
The sound of fingers snapping brought me back. I looked around, and Master had gone into the kitchen. I quickly scampered across the tile of the kitchen to his side and looked up at him sheepishly.
He looked smiled. "You came when I snapped. I didn't even teach you that. Good girl." He petted my head and somehow I felt so much better – I was loved here.
The kitchen was tiled in the same fashion as the foyer, and I saw that a tiled hallway joined the two. Master continued his narrative. "There is ivy on the tile here. You may stand when needed to reach the cupboards, cook and so forth."
He continued into the next room, where a large leather couch, flanked by leather reclining seats sat on a hardwood floor. They were arranged to face an enormous large screen TV. The ceiling was vaulted, about 2 stories high to give the feeling of space. A decorative rail split the kitchen from this great room, ending in a large square post. As I crawled into the room and looked around, I saw more potted ferns on the post, about 10 feet up. I stared at them, mesmerized. This area was also sculpted online, as Master captured me and I had hung from that post in the Second Life game. "This is the family room. It's also where I watch the hockey games I told you about." I was amazed at how conscious I was about what kind of floor rooms had since I was crawling rather than walking. It really started to change my entire viewpoint.
Master opened a door, and started to walk down a flight of stairs. As he got to the bottom, he turned. I was still at the top, realizing that I couldn't crawl down stairs. The knee pads physically prevented me walking, even for a short distance. Master smiled and waited expectantly. I turned and sat on the top step. I lifted myself up with my hands and feet, and plopped down by a step. It was a slow process, and I probably reminded Master of a 1 year old bopping down steps in her diaper, but I was getting down. I looked up at Master, and he had a grin as wide as the Cheshire Cat. Not in malice, but in enjoyment at what he was watching. I forced out a smile, and made my way down to the basement.
The basement was a large room with a cement walls and floor, with a washer and dryer set that was much nicer than what I was used to. A line was set up over a sink to hang laundry. Looking around, one of the walls was a typical sheetrock wall, not the cement of the other walls. Piquing my curiosity, I looked further. There was a subtle ring in the wall, and I could make out the outline of a door. Master headed up the stairs and snapped his fingers. I crawled quickly to the stairs, and hoisted myself up to plop on my butt one step higher. I continued up, plop by plop for step by step. Going up stairs without standing was even harder than when I broke my ankle and had to hop up them. At least I could stand back then!
Master walked to the stairs by the front door. He gazed thoughtfully at the large decorative wooden acorn at the end of the banister. And then he looked at me and smiled before looking back at the carved oak mass, and walked up the stairs.
I looked at it and my mind began to wonder just what Master had in mind for it. It was too large for a dildo or butt plug. I sighed, and turned around, sitting on the steps. Once again, I went up the steps like a baby, plopping my butt up one step at a time. It really re-enforced my position. He was able to walk freely. I had to move like a toddler.
The first room that we came to was the office. I saw it was a converted bedroom, but had a leather covered mahogany chair in front of the desk where Master spent so many hours with me online. Off to the side, an ergonomic chair sat facing the center of the room. I realized to "sit" in it, the person would actually be somewhere between kneeling and sitting.
