My Mother is an Internet Sex Slave!

Part 2: The Middle

"Andrew? Sir? You've seen the post on the group?" She sounded as if she was crying.

"Just now, er, fifi." Of course. Phoebe Phipple = fifi, Ike = Isaac = Zak. How could I be so dense?

"Prince Zak has told me to invite you round this evening for some explanations and the apology you're due," she drew a deep breath and sobbed audibly, "Sir."

"Look, Mother, this is terrible. You don't have to go through with this. It's too much to ask anyone. You don't need to call me 'Sir' or apologise to me."

"Yes I do, Andrew. Sir." She emphasised the honorific without sobbing this time and without any disrespect in her tone. "Mrs Phoebe Phipple's relationship with her son Andrew isn't what matters here. All that matters is that slavefifi has been extremely disrespectful to a member of the group. And she gets punished and humiliated by having to apologise personally." She may not have been sobbing but she was a little hysterical and her voice was getting higher and thinner. "I signed a contract with my Master, Andrew. Please, come round for your apology and let us explain, Sir."

I reckoned I'd better agree before she slipped into third person and asked for its Master to punish it for not persuading me to come round. "Okay, Mum, er, fifi. I'll be there in about half an hour. Tell Ike, er, Zak."

"Yes, Sir."

I hung up. I got a bit of a wash and brushed my hair. When I saw myself in the mirror I looked red and sweaty. I don't think I had ever blushed that deeply before. You go white when you feel faint, don't you? Not me, not this time. I stood there for an age just looking at myself. Who was I? I was the guy who suggested that his mother have to explicitly offer the use of the three entrances of her body to every man she met for a week! And was frustrated when the suggestion was rejected! I was the guy whose computer had a picture of his own mother naked and pissing in a flowerbed as desktop background there on the screen right now!

I couldn't even remember off-hand how to change the background. I closed the computer down, put my jacket on and ran for the bus. It was on time, so everyone on the bus saw me running. It explained the red face and the sweating. I hoped.

I sat on the bus still mentally kicking myself. In the balls. I remembered months ago deciding to stop using the internet before I hurt someone. I knew that wouldn't work then and nothing had changed. I remembered Adriana too. Beautiful, Swedish, and strangely unsatisfying. I recalled her sucking my cock and how disappointing it was. But as soon as I imagined taking control, gripping her hair and forcing her to take it deep into her throat, I had a bigger erection than I had had on public transport since I was 14. I would have to calm down to get off the bus. I thought about the lamp-posts on the banks of the Seine looking exactly as I expected them to look. It worked after a fashion.

* - * - * - * - *

I had my keys in my hand about to let myself in, when I realised I could have turned up without warning them and used my key at any time since Ike had moved in. Who knows what I might have walked in on? I hadn't actually done it, though. I guess Mother had me well-trained. Nagging works sometimes.

They were expecting me this time. I opened the door and called out, "Hello?"

"In the lounge." Ike shouted, "Come through."

I hung my jacket up and went through to the back of the house. Their lounge is large with a big picture window and a glass door opening onto the decking overlooking the garden. Ike was sat in the big armchair. Mother … rather, fifi stood close to the window facing the garden. She had her arms folded behind her back, fastened together with a leather arm-binder, and wore nothing else but her collar and a blindfold. The glass door was open beside her. She had been severely caned on the buttocks and there were some raw welts on the edge of bleeding. By now it was late enough that they had the wall lights on, and I could make out two blurred reflections of her breasts in the double-glazed window, marked from the punishment she'd exhibited in the photo attached to her posting earlier that evening. Her nipple rings glinted.

"Sit down, Andrew, make yourself at home." Ike seemed a bit uncomfortable too. He was wearing leather trousers and a sort of loose leather waistcoat. It was unfastened to show off his hairy chest. The hair on his chest was darker than the very short hair on his head, darker even than his moustache. I knew otherwise, of course, but to me he looked gay. I didn't see the leather hat till later, or I would have been really confused. I sat on the sofa.

"fifi, come here." She turned and walked towards him, fairly accurately considering the blindfold. "Turn around." She did. I was trying not to look at her shaven genitals with their five rings. Or at her nipples. Her blindfold had the word 'disobedient' written on it. Ike unfastened the arm-binder and said "down". She knelt with surprising grace – I guess she had been trained –and he removed the blindfold. "I will have a brandy and soda. Ask Andrew what he wants. You will have orange squash, weak."

"Yes, Master." She stood, turned to me and curtseyed. Her movements were studied and composed, but she was blushing to below her navel. "Would you like a drink, Sir? And perhaps some snacks?" Whenever I went to my Mother's house in the evening she offered me crisps or corn balls or mini-pizzas or some other thing full of fat, salt, and calories and totally non-filling. Obviously, fifi really was the same woman.

"Just a beer, thanks." She made eye-contact with me and gave a very tiny shake of her head. She was criticising me for thanking her. I remembered a long essay of a post from her about how it was unnecessary to thank a slave. I wasn't sure that she was allowed to make eye-contact and I almost said as much, but thought it would just get her into more trouble. I had to say something though. As she went to get the drinks I waved vaguely in the direction of her striped buttocks. "Another punishment?"

Ike held up the blindfold with the word 'disobedient'. "She's not been in this trouble for two hours and she's already defied punishment number one. DDDevilEyes spotted it, he's very observant that kid. In that post she was supposed to call herself 'it', but her signature said 'she'. He suggested I should cane her arse daily until further notice for that and I had to agree with him. We started tonight." He sighed. "She really hasn't been in anything like this kind of shit before but she is determined to stick it out and learn from it." He lowered his voice. "Don't tell her, but I'm really proud of her." It was the most I'd ever heard him say in one go. Get him going on a subject that interests him and I guess you can't stop him. When I heard that much together I realized he actually had much more of a Lancashire accent than I remembered.

"Look, Ike, this is very awkward for me, even having her call me 'Sir' seems somehow ..."

She came back with the drinks, curtseying as she served first Ike then me, and put the tray with her squash down on one of the occasional tables. She stood looking at it like a dog waiting to be allowed to eat a biscuit. He waited a moment then waved at the squash and she took it. "One gulp. Window."

She quickly drank the whole drink down and returned the glass to the tray. "Thankyou, Master." She went and stood facing the window again with her arms folded behind her back as if she had been put back in the arm-binder.

"Yes, I can see you blushing, Andrew, and if it was my mother I guess it would be awkward for me. But you're sitting with the grown-ups now. You have to understand that some people are different to others."

I had to sip the beer before I could speak. "I know all that, Ike. I joined the group. I knew the general kind of thing I was going to find. And it's a really good group. But it's hard to take when you find it's your own Mother being beaten and humiliated. Look, I know you're going to make her go through with the apology; but maybe we could just get that over with and I can go home, leave the group, and get rid of the stuff I've downloaded."

"Actually, I discussed this with fifi and she thinks that you deserve an explanation from her, the apology I said she had to give, and another apology for not having the guts to tell you before she signed the contract. Neither of us think you should leave the group or change what you do in any way." fifi nodded slightly. It was darker outside now and I could see the reflection of the front of her body almost as clearly as the back.

Ike indicated her buttocks. "Difficult skill, that. Getting that close to bleeding without actually cutting. Took a lot of practise but it helps that she keeps so still while being beaten. I don't know whether I've got better at training, or whether she's just naturally got what it takes, but she really tries harder to be very good than any girl I've trained before, and mostly she succeeds." He sipped his drink. I took a good swig at mine. My mouth kept drying out.

"You seem to have been her weak spot. She hadn't fitted having a son into being a slave. It's got her into real trouble. She's right, she should have told you before she got her collar. I should have made her get through that issue before we got this serious but I sort of put it off.

"Look, you may not realise this, Andrew, but you're a bit intimidating. You're tall and strong and clever. I never knew what to say to you. I never really met anyone with a University degree before. I'm just a tradesman who knew what he wanted from a woman and learned how to get it."

I'm not that clever. Instead of nodding quietly and sipping my beer I dug her a bigger hole by being peevish. "I never noticed her being intimidated. Exactly the opposite. I get a constant stream of criticism whenever she visits me. Other people's mothers don't do that do they? She's more like a music-hall mother-in-law!" The tension of the situation was disturbing my self-control. I was talking about my mother as if she wasn't there. But I guess maybe I was realising that she liked that.

Ike scowled. He raised his voice. "Here, slave!" She scurried across the room and fell to her knees in front of him, ducking her head low in a display of her submission. She was shaking in fear.

I didn't think she was going to able to take any more punishment. "Look, Ike, that's just the strangeness of the situation getting at me. We get on well enough."

He held up his hand and glanced at me. He was good at this domination stuff. I shut up and let him deal with his slave. "This true?"

She considered and then took a deep breath trying to control herself. "Sometimes, Andrew's place isn't as clean and tidy as I would keep it. I tell him that." She took another breath but she was still shaking. Her nipple rings bounced against her – I looked away.

"Is it done respectfully?"

"Perhaps not, Master."

"Until this evening, have you ever spoken to him respectfully?"

"Not really, Master."

"He's a man, damn it! Isn't he?" He was shouting now. "My slave is respectful to everything with a dick! You forget that? Insolent cunt!" She was crying and cringing but didn't dare speak. He turned to me and controlled his voice somewhat. "When I'm watching her, some dog on the street goes past her, she gives a little curtsey if it's male. She even asked for a ruling about dogs that had their balls taken off! But her own son?!" He knocked back his drink angrily and his voice rose again. "Her own son gets a constant stream of criticism! Fuck me!" He stood up and kicked her in the stomach.

I jumped up too. "Ike, calm down. Didn't I see something about not punishing in anger on the group? From you?" I didn't want to think about my Mother being kicked in the stomach or about her thinking she deserved it. But I could help her by calming Ike down when he kicked out in anger.

He turned away to compose himself, took a breath and said, "You're right, Andrew. I'm sorry." He turned back and looked at me uneasily. "You're okay, there, lad." I realised that my hands were both clenched into fists and relaxed them.

He looked down at his cowering naked slave, balled up on the floor holding her stomach. Through gritted teeth he said, "I will have a brandy and soda. Andrew will have another beer. You will have a pint of tap water. Get out of my sight and get them. Now!" She crawled out of the room at high speed. She hadn't made a sound.

He sat down and shook his head. "I'm calm, okay? What else did she criticise?"

"Ike, I don't think you want to know right now. I don't think I want to tell you." I wasn't too sure it was safe but I sat. "Remember, for me this is still very strange. Seeing where she's been caned is one thing, I've seen photos of fifi after a caning before. But seeing you kick her …" I couldn't finish. He'd kicked my mother and I was going to let it pass. Could I do that?

"Give her a chance to atone for it, Ike. Find something to bring the lesson home to her. You're good at that. Her punishments fit the crime in some weird way that really works. You've trained her really well so far. I know she wants to please you. But she was allowed to visit me alone and all the frustrations of being trained were suddenly released. She couldn't talk about them so she just gave me a hard time. You just tighten your grip and she will respond." I was defending fifi not Phoebe. But if it worked neither would get kicked. Seeing fifi interacting with her Master let me understand them in a way I never could have just through the group. But could I understand myself? My own rationalisations?

* - * - * - * - *

A shivering slave girl came in and served our drinks. She put the tray down and carefully gave Ike his using two hands, making sure she didn't spill anything. My drink filled the glass and was more difficult. I took it from her as quickly as I could to make sure she didn't spill it and earn any more punishment. I tried to smile encouragingly. She gave her slight nod without making eye contact.

She turned and looked towards Ike. She clearly didn't know whether to kneel but settled for hunching herself into the most submissive posture I could imagine. Her body language shouted "I am shorter than you," even though he was sat in the armchair and she was on her feet. Her knees were knocking. I'd never seen that before.

She was waiting to be told to drink the pint of water. Ike was thinking about what I'd said. "Alright, Andrew, I think I know what to do. I'm sure she'll never let me get that angry again, and I'm just as sure she can rely on you to defend her if I do." He smiled grimly then sipped his drink. I think he might have been afraid of me. I finished off the first beer and picked up the second.

"Let's get on with tonight, shall we?" He pointed at the pint of water. "No more than five gulps."

fifi knew what was going on. I must say that at that time I didn't understand. She picked the glass up and forced herself to drink it. She managed about half of it the first go. Then she paused briefly before attacking it again. It took four gulps in all. She put the glass down, carefully. "Thankyou, Master."

"Let's get you prepared to give your explanation and apology. I want you fully open and fully vulnerable. Garters, knee-spreader, lead. I've got the arm-binder."

"Yes, Master." She ran out of the room to get the stuff.

"This had better be good." Ike still looked pretty grim. He was feeling the pressure of being a slave's Master just then, I thought. "Before we start, is there anything I don't know about that she should apologise for?" I shrugged. "She criticise your job, your lifestyle, your choice of holiday?" I was non-committal. "Oh, I know. Your hair?"

It must have been obvious so I said, "Well, when I've just got up, you know? It isn't that tidy."

"I knew it." He nodded. Like many people nowadays, he has extremely short hair, like a cancer patient. His could never get mussed up.

"Let that pass, Ike. Okay?" He said nothing.

* - * - * - * - *

fifi returned and started to set herself up. She was still shaking but looked very determined. She knew what to do. She had already put a pair of strong elastic garters high on her thighs as well as cuffs on her ankles and just above her knees. She knelt facing me about two yards away and connected a spreader bar between the knee cuffs. Where she was kneeling, between two carpet tiles there was a metal ring that hinged out of the floor. She attached the hook in the middle of the spreader to it. The spreader would make it impossible for her to close her legs, and very hard for me to avoid looking at her sex. The garters were intended to make that worse. They each had two short elastic straps with clips on the ends attached to them which she connected to her four labia rings.

I have a problem with language here. How do I say this about my mother? I can't describe this with coy euphemisms all the time. I have to make it a description of slavefifi in terms appropriate for a sex-slave. So I'll say that the slave's cunt was spread wide open. The elastic ensured that it was painful. The spreader bar ensured that it was inescapable.

Her leash is one of those long spring-loaded ones for walking a dog in the park, with a button that retracts it into its handle like a metal tape measure. She pulled a long length of the leash out of the handle, reached behind herself to feed the free end through the rings on her ankle cuffs, up through a ring on the back of her collar, then round to the ring on the front of the collar and down to the ring through her clitoris-hood where she clipped it in place. She passed the handle behind her to Ike, who put it on the arm of his chair, then she folded her arms behind her back for him to put the arm-binder on.

He came round between us and lifted her chin to look at him. "You do everything that's asked of you and you can get through this. I know you're keen to do your best. We are not going to throw all your training away and lose what we've got over this, are we?" It seemed to me he was threatening to leave her if she didn't put herself through this humiliation, and the threat was a real one, one she feared, even though the place on her stomach where he kicked her was already looking as if it would bruise. Is that love? I've never been in love myself but I can't think of anything else it might be.

"No, Master. This slave has much to apologise for and much to be punished for and she will accept her Master's will in this as in all things." That sounded like a ritual response, as if she had learnt it by rote and come to believe it later. But it sounded like she did believe it and it seemed to calm her, even give her strength.

Ike walked back round to his chair and retracted the leash until it pulled enough on the ring to expose her clitoris. I blinked. I was steeling myself to be able to look at her body throughout this, but seeing that little white nub was another first in the history of my imagination. I dreaded the thought that I might get an erection. I wasn't confident.

Ike put the leash down again, and went over to the side of the room and adjusted a camera on a tripod, presumably making sure it was focused on her. Then he went back to his chair carrying two remote controls and sat down behind her. "Right. Andrew, I'll be recording this in sound and taking occasional still pictures. For the group, you know. You are out of the picture frame if you stay in your seat. If you like, I won't post the sound if you can be heard. But now that the group can see her face, they may as well hear her voice as well, so I'd like to. Decide afterwards."

I nodded. I had completely forgotten that he was letting everyone see her face. I was sad for her. She was biting her lower lip. I remember her doing that all the time just after Dad died. By the time of the funeral, she had bitten both lips till she looked as if she had really bad cold sores.

* - * - * - * - *

Ike pressed a button on the remote. "And, cue the arrogant, selfish, disobedient slut!"

fifi looked at me somewhere around my chest - no eye contact, but not looking at my crotch area, just in case - and took a deep, ragged breath. She was blushing again. "First, Sir, please may I say that I am deeply ashamed of what I did last week when I realised whose profile I was looking at. I had never imagined even for a moment that you might join the group. It was a huge shock. I have already apologised to my Master for acting without thinking, but it seems that when I act without thinking my old identity surfaces and my slavery is forgotten. My Master knows that I want to always be a better slave than that." Her voice throughout was calm, clear, and sincere. She had stopped shaking and controlled her breathing. She held her head high and would have looked me in the eye if she had been allowed to.

"Much of this punishment is forcing me to understand that the woman I used to be isn't here any more. I am a slave, a piece of property with no rights, no privacy. My Master was merciful and allowed me to hide my face from the group. He will not allow that any more.

"There is not the smallest part of my body that I will be allowed to hide from you, Sir, nor will any part of the sexual uses I am put to by my Master and on his behalf be hidden from you. My bodily functions are public. My bladder is filling painfully as we speak and I will only be allowed to empty it when the entire apology is done and you have decided how I should be punished for my offence against you personally. And when I am allowed to piss it will be in a public place as I am not allowed to use my Master's toilets.

"Being a slave was my decision. Once I knew it was what I wanted, I spent more than six months convincing Prince Zak to accept me as his. He did not force me into slavery; he allowed me to give myself to him." Now came the first moment of real apology. She tensed and said, "Master, please reinforce my understanding of your anger and displeasure." Ike hooked the handle of the leash on to his chair somehow and then wound in the leash some and only by lifting her feet and balancing only on her knees could she keep the pressure off her clit-hood. She winced in pain and fear. "Sir, I offer my sincerest and deepest apologies for not explaining my decision to seek a Master to you until now. It was dishonest. I should have been open about my needs. When my Master accepted me, your interests were not considered. I am a selfish, inconsiderate slut who thought more about keeping her depraved life secret than basic human courtesy and I deserve nothing but your contempt."

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I did have a partial erection. My breathing was shallow and my mouth dry, but I didn't pick up my beer. I was feeling more sympathy for her than I can ever remember feeling before. I was sorry for what she was going through, but it was obvious that she wanted it. She was deep in some place where she felt she deserved it. I'm sure most submissive women don't tell their children what they are doing. She seemed to be punishing herself for not being an absolutely perfect slave. Her sexual arousal was obvious. There were no tears now.

"As to my actions last week, they were inexcusable. I deserve the whole punishment. My tits were caned at ten o'clock this morning. That will be repeated daily until it is clear to my Master that I have learned my lesson. It will be a long time before I consider doing anything that might be construed as arrogant." She swallowed and braced herself again. "Master, please reinforce my understanding of your anger and displeasure." Ike reeled in a bit more leash. She hunched her shoulders down trying to get the collar lower, and lifted her feet even higher. She was now on the balls of her knees balanced very precariously it seemed to me. The slightest imbalance made her have to adjust her position and pulled on her clit-hood ring. I'd always thought they were more of a badge of courage than an adornment. (Always? Ha! It was less than three months since I'd heard of them.) I'd never thought of using one for this kind of torture.

"Sir, I offer my most abject and personal apology for banning you from the group. It was arrogant and thoughtless and I hope you can find in yourself the cruelty to sentence me to a severe punishment, agreed upon with my Master in addition to the ones he has decreed and the one he has accepted on DDDevilEyes' suggestion. Again I demonstrated by this action that I am a selfish, thoughtless cunt who is so arrogant as to think that she can deceive her Master and the members of the group. Please, Sir, treat me with the contempt and cruelty I deserve."

I was aroused, erect, lubricating my shorts. Because my own mother had asked me to be cruel to her? I felt slightly sick. I sipped my beer, not the best liquid to use under the circumstances. She had actually called herself a cunt! The moment she said the word, that was what I looked at. Who am I? There was more to come and I was going to have to listen to it. How far would this go? I wasn't sure what Ike would order her to do, but it felt like a punishment for me as much as for her.

It was getting late and a breeze came through the open French door. We all needed it. Ike seemed fully aroused by what was happening too. But that was, as it were, his job.

"Earlier this evening, Sir, you expressed justified anger at the way I have treated you recently which was interfering and disrespectful. My Master has justly pointed out that I have standing orders to be respectful at all times to all males. Because you were unconnected to my slave life, because it was hidden from you and you were unlikely to bring the matter up in front of my Master, I fraudulently disobeyed this standing order and treated you in a way that would have been unacceptable even if I were a free human and not a slave and a piece of property. It was outrageous that a slave was arrogant enough to criticise you on such a constant basis."

I don't imagine any one of you ever heard such a completely self-critical introduction to an apology. She was very aroused by it. She was dripping on the carpet. I wasn't far off myself. I wondered if she could manage any further shortening of her leash. She must have known how harsh it would be but she asked for it.

"Master, please reinforce my understanding of your anger and displeasure." Ike pushed the button on the leash handle and simultaneously used the remote to take several pictures in close succession. She shrieked and shuffled backwards on the balls of her knees until the spreader bar was stopped by the hook in the floor. It must have been agony. She needed several breaths to compose herself and her voice was strained and higher than normal when she continued.

"Sir, I offer my most abject apology to you for the way I have treated you. I know my Master will punish me severely for such brazen defiance of my standing orders and I urge you to take any opportunity to remind me of my previous disrespect and enforce, with his permission, an enhanced level of respect compared to other men whenever we meet in the future.

"This slave thanks you, Sir, for kindly listening to her apology and would urge you to take however much time you wish deciding whether to accept it."

* - * - * - * - *

I could see flickers of tension in her thigh muscles which, of course, pulled on her labia rings. Maybe I'm a bit slow but it took a moment to realise it was because her bladder was full to bursting. I decided not to put my voice on the tape and gave a throat-cut gesture to Ike. He held up the remote and I could see him press the stop button.

I tried to speak but had to finish my beer to get my voice to work. I had to be cruel. It was what she wanted. I flashed back to Dad's funeral again; he would never have let this happen, but I remember a great aunt, herself now dead, telling me "Your mother's been through a lot, Andrew. Try to do what she says. It will make it easier for her."

Cruel, okay. I said, "I'd like to discuss this with your Master before deciding. If he would be so kind as to release your arms so that you can remove your other restraints, then perhaps he could send you for some more drinks while we talk about it." She didn't get to relieve the bladder-pressure till the decision was made. That was as cruel as I could get.

Behind her back Ike grinned and gave a thumbs-up. "Ok. Can't have Andrew fixing his own drink." He unhooked the leash-handle and slowly fed line to her to allow her to lower her feet and take the pressure off her piercing.

"Tea with milk. One sugar," I said. Ike got up and released her arms and she stretched her shoulders. Then, biting her lip hard, she unclipped the leash from her clit-ring. He reeled the leash all the way in, helping the clip through each of the rings in turn. Turning to check with him first, she unhooked the spreader bar from her knee cuffs. She moved a hand towards a garter but Ike stopped her immediately. He helped her to her feet and steadied her while the circulation came back into her knees.

"I will have a coffee. Andrew will have tea made the way he said. You will have nothing. Go." She grabbed the trays she'd brought the previous rounds on and went out to the kitchen.

I stood up to rearrange my underwear and let out a long, long breath.

"Hot, hey?" Ike was doing much the same as I was.

"Yes, but hard to take. What's the extra punishment?"

"I'll tell her that. It won't be as hard on her as you might think. Can't pile too much on top of what she's got already."

I nodded. "Thanks."

When she returned with the drinks, we were back in our respective seats. She gave Ike his coffee, and me my tea, and knelt back down facing me with her arms folded behind her back. She spread her knees almost as wide as the spreader had forced them so the garters were still spreading her wide. The knees looked red and puffy. She was barely able to remain still because of the state of her bladder.

Ike said, "Well, that was a fairly comprehensive apology, slave, I hope you meant it all. This is what Andrew and I have decided. As his flat isn't as clean as you would have it, you will keep it clean for him. Twice a week, Sundays and …," he looked at me, "Wednesdays?" I nodded, "You will completely clean his flat to your standards. And you'd better hope he approves of your standards. You will do this naked. You will be naked whenever you are in his flat. And whenever you are in his flat you are to regard him as a Master and obey any …" She looked round at him in alarm, he emphasized the rest, " Any order he gives you."

She hung her head and made an effort to be obedient. "Yes, Master."

"This is another punishment which continues until further notice, but it is Andrew who will decide when you have suffered enough. He can decide it however he likes, but my idea would be to set you a task to complete to let him know you respect him now and will always respect him. When you complete the task, he lets you off the cleaning. Okay, Andrew?

"Fine by me. A free cleaner. Well, not 'free' exactly."

He laughed. "No, not free. Take your time coming up with the task. Don't make it too easy."

"Ok."

He turned to her, "Understood, slave?"

"Yes, Master." He sat looking at her, holding his head on one side like a parrot thinking. "Please Master, may this slave speak?"

"Speak."

"Please Master, may this slave piss in the flowerbed."

He looked at me; I shrugged. "Go piss yourself, you dirty little bitch," he almost snarled at her.

She got up, bobbed a little curtsey to each of us, "Thankyou, Master. Thankyou, Sir," and went out into the garden. We had a clear view as she squatted and pissed copiously in the flowerbed.

While she was out, I asked quietly, "She obeys any order?"

"Any you like to give. Believe me, she is terrified that you will actually want to fuck her." I looked at him in outrage. He held up his hand. "I've been playing with her mind about it all day. Don't tell her either way. Dammit, don't tell me either way. Fear of what you might order will keep her off balance, and I've got a lot more breaking in to do, suddenly. That'll keep the pressure up."

I was somewhat mollified. "And the task?"

"Your call, Andrew."

I was too tired to think much about it then, so I just nodded. I didn't know what was going to happen with my not-free cleaner. fifi returned from her piss and, kneeling rather painfully on the decking, asked permission to come back into the house.

Ike ignored her. "Maybe you'd like to let yourself out, Andrew. Might catch the last bus."

"Sure. Bye, er, Zak, fifi." As I turned to go, and nearly tripped over the spreader bar still hooked to the floor in the middle of the room, he stepped out onto the decking. I didn't know how his leather trousers opened but as I left the room to get my jacket I could see her reach up to open them.

* - * - * - * - *

That was Monday. On Wednesday evening, when the doorbell rang just before nine o'clock, I knew who it was immediately. It was my mother.