Marie's cab pulled up outside a large well-appointed mansion in the Oakland hills, and the driver reached up to the taximeter to confirm the reading.
"That'll be $25.70, please."
I know that voice. He has driven me before. I can see patterns in the events that surround me if only I pay attention. I will need to play innocent, though. This is an excellent point to practice.
Marie fumbled with the tiny pockets on the breasts of her glossy white shirt, massaging her nipples in a show of trying to find some cab fare.
"Oh dear, I think I need some help here!" she squeaked, willing herself to blush red.
The cab driver gave a funny sort of smile, but stepped out of the driver's seat and got into the rear compartment with her.
"Now what seems to be the problem?"
"Well I seem to have left my wallet at home, you see, and I don't think I have any money with me! Please, is there some
" Marie began massaging the cabby's chest now, slipping a finger through the gaps between buttons, "
other way I can repay you?"
The cab driver said nothing, an incomprehensible scowl on his face. He abruptly grabbed her wrist and pulled it away from his chest roughly.
Either he is offended that I came on to him, or he wants to play rough. Either way I must submit to him in order to leave this cab.
"Oh dear. I suppose I have been a bad girl now, haven't I?" Marie lowered her head demurely and looked up at him as if hurt that he wasn't playing along. She didn't have to hold this expression for long, though, because in a flash he had pulled her over his knee and tugged her skirt up to expose her rump.
"One!" he bellowed as his palm crashed into her upper thigh. Two landed on the right cheek, and three came square in the middle sending a shock that made her clitoral ring bounce. She analyzed the location of each stroke, felt the spread, and noted that he was quite experienced at giving spankings.
At "Twenty-five!" he threw Marie back so that she knelt on the floor of the car. Her ass burned, and he seemed to be somewhat short of breath, but Marie saw an opportunity to part on better terms.
"Oh thank you, sir." she moaned in a husky whisper, "Now let's see what I can do for the remainder."
She leaned forward and undid the man's trousers before he could object, teasing the tip of his penis with her tongue and then drawing it into her mouth as quickly as possible. He gave a wordless shout in surprise, but Marie massaged his balls gently and used every ounce of analytical power to gauge the reaction of his flesh and bring him to orgasm quickly.
She had learned her lessons well now, and swallowed the fluid neatly. Without saying a word she opened the cab door and stepped out, tugging her skirt down as she walked toward the large front door.
"Hey lady!" the cabby shouted over his car. Marie stopped and turned around to look at his slightly confused expression.
He seemed to be lost for words, but eventually tried to explain himself.
"Don't get the wrong idea, miss." he was quieter now, "That's not really who I am."
Does he want a psychotherapy session? He is confused, not ashamed. He enjoyed himself, but isn't sure why yet.
Marie batted her eyelashes and gave a coy smile, as if stifling a giggle. The gesture was demure and submissive while still managing to be thoroughly condescending.
"No, I mean..." he shook his head in astonishment, "I'm gay!"
Marie changed her smirk to a warm sunbeam of a smile and blew him a kiss, laughing as though they had just shared a wonderful inside joke. He chuckled, still shaking his head as he climbed back in his cab and drove off.
A woman with heavily brylcreem'd hair answered the door in a forest green latex butler's uniform. Golden scrollwork decorated the dark glossy suit, and stiff tabbed collar points poked out over a heavy chrome slave's collar.
"Ah, you must be Slave Marie. Give this to the cab driver and then come around to the servants' entrance." The butler stuffed a $20 and a $10 bill into Marie's hands and shut the door.
Marie watched the cab drive away, shrugged, and tucked the bills into the pockets at her nipples. The side door was answered by a bean pole of a vamp in a black latex hobble skirt with a white rubber apron. The woman bent at the waist until her black bob dangled forward from her temples and peered at Marie over her half-moon spectacles. Satisfied, she gave a gruff hiss and hooked a black rubber finger through the ring in Marie's collar, dragging her inside.
Marie appeared stunned as she was dragged to one wall and attached to it by a chain clipped to her collar. She kept up appearances as a confused and embarrassed novice, but her mind kept processing everything without distraction: I'm one of three girls here, and there is one chain empty. This is some kind of solarium or rear porch area for domestic servants to do their cleaning in, but the rack of clothes contains nothing but maid uniforms of all varieties and fabrics. We're likely to all be fitted with them and required to clean the house.
She grabbed the chain in mock surprise, as if by some protective instinct, but made no effort to detach herself from the wall.
Blonde, brunette, and I'm in a black wig. Someone likes to keep things in sets, even with uniforms. The uniforms look much better made than the one I have at home.
The head maid dressed the other two girls while Marie watched. Everything was done in complete silence save for the squeaking of rubber and clanking of chains, so Marie decided to try breaking the ice in the hopes of learning something.
I'm here to work, I think? My name is Marie, and this is my first assignment, so
" She stopped short as the vamp swept around and glared pure venom at her.
This will not end well. The other two have begun to relax and exchange glances, as if in relief. It is likely that I have drawn unwanted attention away from them, and will suffer the brunt of this woman's wrath.
The vamp tore open Marie's shirt and peeled off the uniform in a few quick tugs. She hauled Marie's wrists up over her head and the blonde maid climbed a stepstool, as if on cue, and fastened her into a pair of heavy steel cuffs that hung from the ceiling. Left to dangle, the women prepared her uniform somewhat differently from the previous two.
First a gathered white rubber blouse was brought up her body to just under her breasts, nipples resting on a bed of latex ruffles and rings dangling over the side. Next a heavy black rubber corset with wide shoulder straps was wrapped around her and steel buckles and hinged cinching levers clamped shut.
This is a tighter constriction than I have ever endured before. It is going to be rather painful for a few minutes, but I should be all right if I don't exert myself too much.
The bouncy white rubber petticoats and skirt were similar to the ones the other two maids wore, but this was clearly higher in the rear and completely divided at the front to expose her crotch. Next came white thigh-high rubber stockings ringed with black latex ribbons, ending in pre-formed bows. At that she was left to hang for a bit while the two maids left to collect something for their mistress.
This outfit is certainly more humiliating than theirs, but the reaction they gave suggested it would be far worse. I can already feel myself getting used to the shallow breathing, even held up on tiptoe like this.
The women returned with two long boxes, and set aside the smaller one to open the larger. Each maid pulled out a gleaming patent leather ballet boot, and began to straighten the laces. Marie noted in her head that she had never worn shoes this strict before, and tried to recall how Angelica had walked when she was forced to wear them.
Once the boots were laced on and locked about the tops of her calves with shiny steel cuffs linked by a short chain, she tried to find her balance and stand without leaning on her wrist chain.
It appears that ballet boots are like riding a bicycle: you never really forget.
The brunette freed Marie's wrists and the chain from her collar, and made a circular motion with one downward-pointing finger, indicating that Marie should try to walk around the room. Marie did so, and found her stride in only a few wobbly steps.
Thankfully these are high stiff boots, laced tight. The ballet shoes without ankle support are always so much more painful and difficult to walk in.
Marie strutted across the room back to where she had been dressed, her clit ring bouncing as her hips tossed the skirts up on one side and then the other.
But I haven't ever worn either type of ballet shoe before today, so how do I know this? I should be able to remember how I learned something, surely.
Marie was so distracted by the search for memories of how she learned to walk in the cruel footwear that she didn't notice the two maids coming up behind her until they had pinned her elbows together behind her back. Marie squealed in exactly the right sort of surprise she thought would be expected of her, and craned her neck around to try and see what they were doing.
The vamp opened the smaller of the two boxes that her charges had brought, and pulled out a long triangle of white rubber. With practiced ease, she pulled the monoglove up Marie's arms and cinched the buckles tight around wrists and elbows before pulling the cross straps into an "X" between her breasts.
Finally the three women pulled Marie in front of a triptych mirror and yanked off her pigtail wig, replacing it with one colored more closely to her own natural red hair. The style was pinned up in a bulbous shape, and a white semicircle of ruffled latex sat like a cross between a tiara and an apron atop it.
The blonde brought a loop of very thin jeweled chain, ending in a black leather strap loop. She bowed her head and held it up with both hands, offering it to the vamp. The vamp took it and quickly fed it through the ring at the front of Marie's collar, down through one nipple ring, through her clit ring, and then looped it through a ring at the end of her armbinder. The chain returned back through the clit ring, up through the other nipple piercing and finally back through the collar again to be linked with the strap via some hidden clasp.
The vamp handed the handle of Marie's new and highly intimate leash to the blonde, who tugged twice and then led Marie tottering down a dim servant's hallway. They passed a number of windows as they went, spilling light in from the main halls and rooms of the house.
This leash is tugging at all of my sensitive areas when I fall behind. It's incredibly stimulating. I should become damp in response, now.
As Marie willed her body to exhibit sexual arousal, she took in the woman leading her on. The blonde's uniform was made of ordinary black fabric, which was quite a change from the glossy wet-look industrial materials Marie had been wearing since the day she'd lost all her underwear. Spilling from the blonde locks were a set of pink and black hairfalls of some sort, which bounced against the extremely pouffy ruffles of her apron straps as she walked.
The sleeves of the uniform puffed out dramatically, which made a striking contrast to the nipped waist caused by the corset worn on top. The blonde's skirt was wide and perilously short, ending exactly where rump changed to thigh, and it was made to bounce by a ruffled black crinoline that flashed its red hems with each jolt of the hip. Thanks to the generous display of leg, Marie could see a considerable length of garter strap leading down to the girl's black fishnet stockings.
As Marie was admiring the blonde's patent platform mary-janes, the pair came to a stop at a dark anteroom of some sort. Through a chest-high window Marie could see a bookcase-lined room with leather sofas and a wide oak desk.
While Marie watched the study through the window, the blonde maid pulled a strap down off of a nearby pegboard and brought it up to Marie's lips. Marie parted her teeth obediently, and took in a U-shaped mouth guard that fit snugly around her teeth. The blonde buckled the gag behind her neck, and then screwed a traditional feather duster into a threaded hole at the front.
"You're to dust the study from the moment you hear people coming until you're sent away. You're to break one item only, and make sure it's one of the clear glass pieces. You'll know when this is expected of you. Under no circumstances are you to attempt communication with the Master or his guest."
There is a profound melancholy in this girl. She has lost someone, and I am a reminder of this, somehow.
The blonde maid then opened a door and pushed Marie out of it before closing it behind her.
Marie looked back at the smooth wall where the door had been, and then gingerly tip-toed around the laquered Japanese screen that obscured her corner of the room. The leash bounced loose at her stomach as she leaned her hip against the wide desk, waiting.
This is the home of someone with incredible wealth and power. The windows into the service corridors are all two-way mirrors, and the whole building is structured like an 18th century manor house.
She did not have too long to wait before she heard footsteps and voices from the outer corridor. Jingling quickly to her toes, she tottered over to a bookshelf and began swatting the books with the duster in her gag.
"...and I'm extremely pleased with the results. Can I offer you a drink?"
A tall, square-built man with silver hair and a beard to match strode into the room. He wore a black three-piece suit with a silver cravatte, and the cut of the jacket reminded Marie of WWI period dramas. He led in a man who was dressed similarly, but appeared much younger. Shaking her head, Marie tried to catch glimpses of the two men.
The grey-haired man is the Master, and the younger man is his guest. I can not see clearly, but the guest is familiar.
"Oh yes, I'd love whatever you're having." While the Master's voice was deep and forceful, the guest's was gentle and thoughtful.
The guest is familiar because he was John Steed at the Halloween party.
Marie's artificially analytical curiosity satisfied for the moment, she returned to the task of dusting the study. It wasn't actually very dusty, so she focused instead on covering as much of the place with her attentions as she could.
"I think I know just the thing." The Master boomed, pulling a key from his waistcoat pocket. "These are the bottles I don't trust The Help to handle. This one here is especially poignant for two reasons:
"First, it's my Birthday Whiskey. It was distilled on the day I was born, nearly sixty years ago. I have a dram or two every anniversary. But for today, it's relevant because it's worth exactly what I paid Rosenstock for his process last year."
Marie's mind spun cyclones with this new information, playing out dozens of possible explanations for what the Master of the house was talking about. It was only when her leash swung forward and clinked gently against a clear glass elephant that she brought herself back to focus on her work.
The two men toasted Dr. Rosenstock and his "process", and sipped the whiskey like sommeliers. Steed admired the drink like a gracious and grateful guest, and commended the Master for all he had achieved.
"You're too kind." The grey bearded man said this like a genuine criticism, "I have curated all this, and nothing more. I have purchased vessels of great value, and I rely on the genius of men like you to realize their potential."
"Now it is you who is being overly kind!" Steed's voice rang with a smile, "I only create vessels, myself. It takes a special sort of talent to fill them with grace and beauty."
"And I have found a match that will do your 'vessels' justice! To grace and beauty to come!"
The two drank again, and fell to small talk. Marie worked her way around the desk, dusting curtains and moulding in the wall. Finally she came to a small display cabinet hung on the wall, filled with clear glass figurines of animals. She gave them the same cursory feather-shaking as the rest of the room, and moved onward.
"You missed a spot!"
Marie stopped suddenly. The two men were silent for a short time. Marie turned slowly to look at them, only to see them both seated on sofas, watching her intently.
"I said, you missed a spot!" the Master growled, a twinkle in his eye. "The cabinet on your left."
Marie understood why she was receiving this attention. She re-dusted the figurines, knocking a glass serpent off the shelf to shatter on the marble floor.
I must look panicked now. Now I must step back in horror. Now I will look pleadingly at the men. Now I should try to run back to the service corridor.
Marie never had a chance to run. The vamp was already standing beside the laquered screen, and she grabbed Marie's leash and dragged her roughly toward the center of the room.
Now I must scream into my gag.
Marie screamed into her gag.