by L. L. Chance
Both Claude and Sylvia were busy and I wasn’t supposed to start until tomorrow, yet lounging around didn’t seem right. Since I’d soon be charged with keeping the whole house in order, I decided to explore… although ‘snoop’ would be more accurate if I was being honest with myself.
I’d been given the fifty-cent tour when I visited for the first time, but I’d been overwhelmed by the opulence of the place, and couldn’t take much in. There were also areas we’d passed by, like the servants wing or the various rooms relegated to storage.
Maybe Billy and I would be moved to that wing once it was sufficiently cleaned up, although it probably wouldn’t be necessary since it was just the two of us. Barely out my bedroom door, I did a quick U-turn and went back to get a pen and notepad; I might as well make notes on where things were and what major jobs I’d need to tackle once I started.
What I found was a to-do list that spanned three pages, and I couldn’t even get into a lot of the rooms until I found a set of keys. The servant’s quarters looked like a dumping ground for anything that Billy couldn’t find a real place for, and it probably hadn’t been cleaned in years. In fact, other than the bedrooms, main living areas, and Sylvia’s dungeon, the house was an absolute disaster.
The sheer amount of work should’ve been daunting, but it actually made me feel good about accepting the job. They didn’t just offer to hire me out of charity, they really needed someone who knew one end of a mop from the other, and that sure wasn’t Billy.
His idea of cleaning supplies seemed to consist of Windex and Pine-Sol, and the vacuum bag was so over-full it was all but useless. I added two more pages of notes for all the things I’d need to buy before I’d be able to even begin working.
Feeling much better now that I had a plan, I decided to indulge myself with a quick swim and a bit of sun before it got too late. Changing in the pool house and finding a dozen more things that needed doing made me wish I still had my notebook, but I could come back later.
I’d just barely managed to finish drying out in the sun after my swim when Sylvia and Claude returned.
“Enjoying your last day of freedom for a while?” she asked, by way of greeting.
“Definitely,” I replied, jumping up to give her a hug. “I took a look around and it looks like I’ll have my work cut out for me. I’ve got pages and pages of notes already on things that need doing.”
“You should have saved that for tomorrow,” Claude scolded me in the middle of his hug. “Today is your welcoming day, not a work day.”
“True, but I was itching to get a feel for the place, and to be honest, I’ll need a massive pile of cleaning supplies before I can actually do anything.”
“Give Billy your list and he’ll take care of it, but for now, we have more important things to do.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “We’ve got a party to get started, so let’s stop wasting time. Work talk can wait for tomorrow.”
“Your wish is my command,” I replied jauntily.
“We can talk about that tomorrow too,” he replied with a grin of his own.
My heart skipped a beat at that, bringing the memory of why I was here to the forefront. Starting tomorrow, his wish really would be my command. I’m not sure if I was more nervous or more excited about how it would play out.
The Contract
“Sit down, dear,” Sylvia said. “We have a lot to discuss before you start.”
“Yes Ma’am,” I replied, taking the proffered seat.
“First off, let me ask you what you expect while you’re here.”
Her question took me by surprise, but I rallied quickly.
“Well, I expect I’ll be doing all the stuff you hate doing and Billy isn’t good at, as well as anything else that needs doing at the time. I also suspect I’ll be taught a thing or two about how to behave like a proper submissive, since that’s a large part of why I’m here with you two.”
“How do feel about that?”
“I’m a little excited and a lot scared,” I admitted. “The things you’ve already shown me have opened up a whole new world to me, and I’m looking forward to learning more. I’ve already found out how much freedom there is when you don’t have to worry about making any hard decisions.”
“Even when giving up control leads to pain or humiliation?”
“Even then,” I agreed. “I still don’t know a lot about it all, but what I’ve seen so far leads me to believe it can be a beautiful thing in the end.”
“We’ll be training and testing you on that to see if you really mean it, and despite how much we care for you, we won’t go easy on you. If you want to give up control to us, then we’ll be taking charge of every aspect of your life for as long as it takes.”
“I understand.”
“Do you? What would you do and how would you feel if I told you to strip naked and go give Claude a blowjob?”
“I’d feel shocked, surprised, and embarrassed, but then I’d ask where he was so I could obey.”
“Your answer surprises me,” she chuckled. “We’re not quite that crude around here, but you do know us well enough to know that sexual gratification is a way of life for us. It’s just like eating, eliminating, or sleeping, and we will be having lots of fun together while you’re here.”
“I figured that was part of the deal, and once again, I’m both scared and excited about it.”
“It doesn’t have to be part of the deal. If you want, you can simply be our maid and our very good friend.”
“I know, but my brief taste of being a submissive filled a hole in me I didn’t know was there. I would like the chance to explore that fully so I can find out one way or another what it really means.”
“That’s about the best answer I’ve ever heard to that particular question. You show a depth to your soul far beyond your years. Now, we need to take care of more mundane matters; your contract.”
“I have to sign a slave contract?”
“No,” she laughed. “A contract for slavery isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on, and to be honest, we don’t actually like using the word ‘slave’. This is simply your employment contract that outlines what we expect from you and what we’ll be offering in return. This isn’t the middle ages, and we provide nothing but the best in the way of benefits. For example: you’ll have full dental and medical coverage, a fair wage, regular vacations, and a whole lot of other perks.”
“This isn’t quite what I was expecting,” I said after skimming through it. “I expected some sort of weird and ritualistic contract like you see in the movies.”
“We could put one together if it’ll make you feel better,” she teased.
“It might be fun,” I grinned back.
“There’s a waiver document you need to carefully go through and sign as well, just in case of an accident, and a non-disclosure agreement to cover what happens with my clients. Pay particular attention to the section covering the dismissal clauses, so you know exactly what you’re getting into.”
I was fully ready to sign first and read later, but she wouldn’t have any of that. She not only made me sit and read through everything in front of her, but she actually quizzed me on the contents to make sure I really read them.
I was stunned at the things she so casually dismissed as ‘fair wage’ or ‘simple perks’. Two hundred grand a year was about ten times what I was expecting, and that didn’t even include the platinum credit card in my name that I’d use for all my regular purchases.
Regular purchases could include shopping sprees at any store in the world, although any clothing items had to be approved by them, since from now on I would only be allowed to wear items of their choosing. I wondered if she’d put me in a sexy French Maid’s outfit or something similar.
All of us together went over to their lawyer’s office to sign and witness the documents, and when we arrived back home, I was now an official part of their household. I was still a little scared and confu
sed, but by the terms of our agreement, that was their problem and not mine. I called that my secret little perk.
Learning the Ropes
It turned out that I really did have some sexy French Maid uniforms in one of my locked wardrobes, although I wasn’t required to wear them for day to day use unless I wanted to. In fact, I wore my scrubbiest clothes for the first few days, as I tackled the worst of the long-unused rooms and the obscene amount of dust and grime they contained.
I fell into a routine where each morning I would work in Sylvia’s dungeon so I could gradually get it into perfect order for her, then tackling a regular household job like cleaning the kitchen. Sure, Billy kept the kitchen in order, but there’s a world of difference between ‘man clean’ and ‘properly clean’.
They made me take the afternoon off so I could spend some time out by the pool, but that only made me determined to work long into the evenings on getting caught up on the many years of neglect in the rest of the place.
It seemed like one of them was always around wherever I was working, but they left me mostly to my own devices. Perhaps they were watching me to see how I was adapting, or maybe they just liked seeing my butt wiggle when I scrubbed the floor. I was happy either way.
My independence came to an end when the weekend arrived, and Sylvia was expecting a client that day. I’d just started polishing the brass railing in the foyer, when Billy found me and told me I needed to shower and change into the outfit waiting in my room.
What I found there took my breath away, and I showered on auto-pilot, unable to stop thinking about it. After drying off, I sat down and tried to figure out where I needed to start. Not finding any underwear, I determined the first thing had to be the fishnet stockings and garter belt. I took my time to make sure they were perfectly straight before moving on to the uniform itself.
It was a French Maid’s outfit that no real maid had ever worn, which was a crying shame considering how beautiful it was. Made of tight, shiny black and white latex, I found it almost impossible to put on until I noticed the bottle of talcum powder on the table.
It made a huge difference and I managed to get it on, although it left very little to the imagination. I found I liked the feel of it on my skin and felt quite sexy wearing it, especially the way it both clutched and caressed my nipples.
Next up was the quarter cup corset, but I didn’t attempt any more than to do up the front busks so I could still bend over to put on my boots, which looked to be an even bigger chore. Knee high and with the tallest heels I’d ever seen in my life, it took me forever to lace them up properly, and my feet were complaining before I took a single step. I briefly stood to test the fit, but quickly sat down when I almost lost my balance and fell on my face. I’d have to practice a bit before I even thought of attempting the stairs.
Two inch wide leather cuffs went on my wrists easily enough, but I found the matching collar would dig into my neck if I moved too fast. I thought it was neat that my boots had the same kind of D-rings that the cuffs and collar did, and I wondered if they were custom made, or if stuff like this could be bought off the shelf somewhere.
The bright red ball gag was a little smaller than the one I’d tried before, and was also surprisingly resilient. If I clenched my teeth, I could compress it enough that my lips would almost touch. It felt almost comfortable and I thought I might be able to wear it for hours without having an aching jaw.
I tested it for a few minutes, but popped it out and let it hang around my neck for now since I’d have to ask someone for help with my corset laces. I couldn’t put it off any longer; I stood again and tried my first tentative steps wearing ballet boots.
Maybe it was because I was being so cautious, or maybe I had a natural inclination for it, but either way, I found walking to be a lot easier than I’d initially feared. I managed to do several laps around my room without any mishaps, and gained a lot of confidence. My feet and calves still hurt like a bitch, though. Oh well.
I put the frilly hat on, grabbed the gloves and apron, and went to find someone who could help me with the corset. My confidence in walking in those ludicrous boots ended when I encountered the stairs, and I had to hold onto the railing for dear life the whole way down.
I found Claude in his office, and cleared my throat at his doorway to get his attention. He glanced up from his computer and waved for me to come in.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Pardon my intrusion, but could I get some help with my corset? I don’t know how to do it up on my own.”
“I’d rather have you ask than have you walk around improperly dressed. Come here and turn around.”
I hurried over as fast as I could so he could get back to his work, although that wasn’t saying a lot with how slow I actually moved. He didn’t complain, though, and started working the laces closed. I thought he did an amazing job in record time, but he was just getting warmed up.
After reaching the top, he went back to the beginning and tightened them up with hard yanks that kept me too off balance to realize how tight he really got it until he was nearly finished. He chided me for the state of my uniform and told me to go next door for some latex polish.
I luckily knew where everything in the dungeon was by now, and made good time, despite being barely able to walk or breathe. Of course, I forgot a cloth to polish with and had to make another trip, cursing under my breath the whole time.
He buffed my uniform to a mirror shine, spending a little extra time on my breasts and butt than was completely necessary, but I didn’t mind; it felt pretty good and I loved the attention, even though it caused me to blush the entire time.
Just when I thought he was done, he spun me around again and did one final pass on the corset laces. Holy shit, I thought he was going to cut me in half with that thing, and breathing was even harder than before. He then stuffed the ball gag in my mouth, buckling it tighter than I would’ve, and polished off the last few random smudges and fingerprints.
“That’s much better,” he said, after giving me a quick inspection. “I like the way the starter corset looks on you as well.”
‘Starter corset’? Oh my God, did that mean there were tighter ones? I couldn’t fathom the thought at the moment, and gave him a small curtsey in acknowledgement of his compliment to cover my shock.
“You look presentable now, but you still move like a drunken orangutan in your uniform. Go fetch me a beer from upstairs… the practice will do you good.”
I was a little stung at his description of how I walked in my unfamiliar outfit, but knew he was right. Surprisingly, I found the ultra-tight corset actually helped me walk straighter, although that was easily countered by the lack of any air molecules in my lungs.
To make matters worse, when I got to the kitchen I found there wasn’t even any beer in the damn fridge! I went back down empty handed, unwilling to second guess what his next choice would be. Unable to speak, I raised my empty hands and shrugged my shoulders to indicate we were out of beer.
When he scathingly reminded me about the fridge on the patio, I was suddenly glad for the gag, since it was the only thing that stopped me from swearing out loud. I trudged back up the stairs again, finally getting his beer, and even remembering to bring a bottle opener. I put it on a coaster and opened it for him before stepping back a pace to wait and see if there was anything else he needed before I went back to work.
I almost screamed when he said “What… no frosted mug?”
Four trips later he dismissed me and let me get back to my polishing. I’d worked up a real sweat going up and down all those stairs, but I was definitely walking a lot steadier now. That was probably the whole point.
Billy was sitting there when I returned, wearing his own outfit and restraints in anticipation of the client’s arrival, and gave me a nod for a greeting. I returned it before grabbing my tin of polish off the floor (with great difficulty, I might add) and got back to work where I’d left off. Four feet down and only about two miles left t
o go.
***
I started swearing again when I heard Sylvia call for me on the intercom. Why the hell didn’t Claude use the intercom during all those extra trips I had to take? I bet he had a good laugh over it. I had to keep reminding myself it was all part of learning how to act and behave, and most importantly, how to obey.
It was easier to stomach when I reminded myself of that, and while I was learning the ropes I could expect more of the same, or even worse. This is what I signed up for, and I had no right to complain. I still reserved the right to curse up a storm, though, as long as I kept it to myself.
I knocked on the dungeon door and stood at attention to try and present a good picture for Sylvia and her client. She simply poked her head out and told me to get a chilled bottle of Dom and a pair of glasses, before closing the door again.
I grumbled about her not telling me that over the intercom, but actually started laughing over it before I made it up the stairs. After Claude’s routine, I was willing to bet she’d find at least three more excuses to send me back upstairs before she dismissed me back to work again. I was right.
I was almost dead on my feet after all those trips, but felt pretty good at how well my body had finally adapted to the incredible strains assaulting it from head to toe. I was even starting to make some progress on my polishing when I heard shoes approaching from down the hall.
I almost turned to see who it was, but remembered to keep my eyes averted in case it was the client; he didn’t like being stared at. He surprised me by giving my ass a slap on his way by, but kept walking and let himself out the door.
I breathed a (shallow) sigh of relief when he was gone, hoping like hell to be able to finally get out of my uniform. Being able to walk properly after all my practice didn’t mean it was actually comfortable to wear, especially after six hours in the heels from hell.