1
Checking in for the flight, Diane was nervous. She was used to travel, as a busy professional, but this was very different. Ms. Lauren had been very specific-this long weekend trial was intended to take her out of her usual life, from the start of the trip. Instead of her usual rolling bag and computer bag, Diane carried only a purse with her ID and a new cheap phone, from the local drugstore. Her phone, her computer, all the lifelines of her daily life had been left at home. Even her clothing was all new, purchased at the mall according to instructions from Ms. Lauren.
She had her boarding pass and ID out for security, and felt the agent's eyes sweep over her. She was wearing a slim tweed skirt, with a blouse and a black knit jacket, and very tall black heels. The belt with the skirt was something Ms. had chosen very specifically, a leather strap with a small intricate buckle. Her stockings were gray thigh-highs, and she could feel the newness of their grip on her thighs. The blouse was a crepe textured cream, rayon not silk, and with no bra under it she kept her arms close to her body. The agent seemed to sense something was off, and gave her another look. Did he notice she wore no bra and no panties? Not possible she hoped, but an exciting and new feeling.
Ms. Lauren had sent her a business class ticket, which meant that instead of being part of the crowd in the back she felt on display in the small front section, on a wide leather seat, trying not to show her lack of undergarments as the flight crew served drinks and food, and seemed to sense something about her, maybe her edge of anticipation. It might also have been the book- Ms. Lauren had joked about it, and instructed her to buy the '50 Shades" book and to display it as she read it, and to read nothing else, so the flight attendants seemed to be smiling as they noticed her and her look and her embarrassment.
At the airport, she had no luggage to claim, and made her way through the huge airport to the taxi line. Ms. Lauren had given her instructions and an address and told her to pay in cash. She had brought only $100 as instructed, and she watched the meter as the cab wound through what seemed to be all of the Atlanta suburbs, from Peachtree Road to Peachtree Avenue to another Peachtree Road. It was late afternoon when taxi pulled up at the address. She was expecting a wealthy neighborhood and huge houses in deep landscaping, and had to check the address again.
She paid the fare on the meter plus the tip, $67, and got out. As the cab pulled away, she took a deep breath and walked up the drive. The address was on a street full of very average older houses, spaced far apart, like something built 60 years ago. The house was an older style, with fading paint and an uncut lawn. The driveway and the walk were cracked, and the house seemed to be dusty and not used. She followed the curving walk to the front door, with its arched top and small window, and saw it was slightly ajar. There was a real estate 'For Sale' sign tucked in the bushes by the door, and she saw the lockbox on the railing.
Diane pushed open the door, and stepped in and closed the door. The late afternoon sunlit slanted through the windows, and she saw this was in fact a vacant house. It had the dusty dry smell of a house not used for a long time, and only bare wood floors which had been recently varnished. She walked to the stairs, with their ornate oak railing, and looked around. There was a living room to one side, and a dining room to the other, and a center hall. On the wall near her was an arrow, made of blue painter's tape, pointing to the rear of the house. She walked in that direction, with her high heels clacking on the wood floors of the empty house. It led her to the kitchen, with its dusty counters and out of date appliances, and then other arrows led her back to the living room. There was a large dusty mirror over the fireplace, and a note taped to the mantle.
"Stand on the mark and look at the slut."
Her face felt hot, and she saw an X of blue tape on the floor. When she stood at the mark, she saw her body reflected in the mirror and studied what she saw. An average looking older woman, 44 but feeling younger, with her new jacket and skirt crumpled from a day of travel, and her shoulder length dark brown hair out of place now. She saw the curves of her breasts under the jacket, and the way the tall heels gave shape to her legs. There was another arrow, and she walked toward the dining room.
The empty house echoed with her steps as she saw the room, large and square, with an ornate crystal chandelier dusty with age. Like the other rooms there was no furniture, but she saw another note and a brown paper bag on the floor, and a small video camera on a stand, with a wireless unit.
"Diane: if you got this far, you see that following instructions is your natural role. Turn on the camera and you will see the red light. Go stand on the mark by the window and face the camera. Remove your jacket, then the blouse. Cup and fondle your tits for the camera, then slip your skirt off. Keep the heels and stockings. Stand on the mark, with your back against the window and your arms on the lower curtain rod. Keep your legs apart please. Keep the phone in your hand. Just wait her for me. Ms. L"
Diane looked around, at the deserted house, with the day getting darker outside. She reached to click on the camera, and as the red light blinked went to her mark. She kept her eyes on the lens as she unbuttoned and slipped off the jacket, then the blouse, and cupped her hands under her breasts, sensing their weight. Her thumbs brushed her nipples, hardening in the cool air. She unzipped the skirt and stepped out of it, then leaned back against the large triple window. The sill hit her in the back of the thighs, so her ass was pressed against the cool glass, and her arms found an iron curtain rod across the window at shoulder height.
She noticed a small plastic mirror taped to the wall behind the camera, so she could see her own image now- a naked older woman, in heels and stockings, her arms spread wide, in the dim room. She moved her legs apart enough to show space between them, and waited for her new mistress. There was nothing to do but think now, about her need for this submission, about leaving her old life behind. She was in a dark, vacant house, where no one knew she was, with no money, no resources, and now no clothing. The house was unlocked, anyone might come in. She thought about what drew her to this, about her dreams of serving Ms. Lauren, about her dreams of a dungeon and the feelings, as the room got darker.
She had to blink when the lights came on, the chandelier and the hall lamp blazing with light now, and everything in the house visible through the windows from outside. She held her spot, doing as she was told. Her legs were tired and her arms were aching when the phone buzzed with a call.
2
Diane looked at the phone buzzing and chiming in her hand. The display showed the one number she had been told to put in memory" "MS L".
"Hello Slut. I've been watching the video online, you really are good at following instructions. I'm saving this video to post online later, as part of my mistress blog. I love that dribble of wetness down your thigh as you stand there so exposed. Say 'thank you', Diane."