The ink from my signature on the contract had not even had time to dry when Miss April issued her first command. One you might expect it of course, for one who had just consented to a year of consensual slavery. Her tone was firm, but not without an edge of gentleness.
“Remove all your clothes, Melissa. Fold them neatly on the table; then come stand before me,” Miss April, my new Mistress, said.
My red blouse had seven white, slightly translucent buttons. I started with the button at the bottom when the second command came.
“No...from the top...give me a show girl.”
Starting from the top, my fingers, with their crimson painted nails, fumbled at first with the button. Slowly I gained my composure and freed the first three buttons. I felt the sun kissing my now-exposed skin. As I reached the last button, much to my embarrassment, the thread holding the last button in place was unraveling, and the button fell to ground.
“Tsk Tsk Melissa, I will have to punish you for that. Why would you wear sub par clothing to our first meeting?”
I stayed silent as I pulled off the blouse and folded it. My instructions before coming to the House had been not to wear a bra or panties. I looked at Miss April as I stepped out of the skirt and kicked off my shoes. She smiled...you know that smile that lures you in...or like that bit of affection you show a kitten before you have it fixed.
I walked naked towards her across the polished concrete that surround her lavish pool. Warmed under the afternoon sun and it felt wonderful to my bare feet. I stopped an arms length from her...clasped my hands behind my head, spread my legs, and stood at attention as if I had read 100 times in my books. Miss April just laughed.
“Melissa, I only said to stand before me, this is not the army. Relax; we will teach our protocols when we are ready. For now just stand there and enjoy the sun on your adorable little body.” With that Miss April relaxed in her chair, sipped on her sweet tea, picked up a book and started to read.
I could tell I had been standing there awhile because the sun was now just below the trees; it was then I could hear the clicking of heels behind me.
“Aww, hello Sophie,” Miss April said with pleasure as she laid her book down. “Sophie, this is Melissa and she will be in your charge for the first week.”
Sophie stood there in five-inch patent leather pumps locked on with tiny jeweled padlocks. Her stockings looked expensive, with intricate lace at the top. She wore black garters, black panties, and a little lace bra that left her nipples exposed; of course there was nothing to support. The Adam's apple, six pack abs, and above-average package locked in a metal cage, covered by the lace panties, said more than enough. Sofie’s collar was about one inch wide, stainless steel with a hidden lock. She had matching wrist cuffs. If you looked closer they had Property of Mistress April engraved on each of them and on Sophie’s collar it had “Sophie” spelled out. Sofie had carried small pink paper bag.
“Melissa when you are not directly in my service or training or that of the other Ladies in my house, Sophie here is in charge of you and you will obey her. Sophie has earned a permanent place in my house and is a fine example for you to observe. Only permanent slaves warrant the expense of such fine collars and cuffs.” She grinned, knowing I was envious. I had fantasized about what I might look like in a fine collar and cuffs.
Miss April took the bag from Sofie and pulled out one of those soft Velcro collars and Velcro cuffs. You know -- the ones your vanilla neighbors buy to spice up their marriage.
“Kneel, Melissa,” she commanded. I obeyed. I was horrified and humiliated as she fastened the collar around my throat, then the cuffs. I gave a glance to Sophie who with her strong manly hands lifted me back up and snapped my hands behind my back. I almost cried, having expected to be collared with fine leather or steel.
“Melissa, restraints do not make you submissive” Miss April said. With a nod Sophie spun me around and in a deep voice said “Hello Melissa, silence is a golden”; she snapped a leash to the collar and led me to what I thought was the guest house beside the pool. Miss April called out “Sophie...10 heavy strikes of the crop on each of her ass cheeks; she had a button fall off her blouse.” I could hear her amusement as Sophie looked back at me. “Don’t make me look bad this week” she said again in that dark masculine voice. We entered the guest house…..
To be continued
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