Erotic writer, focusing on transgender chastity, spankings, and all-around hot sexy things. I do commissions, and I'm always looking for new writing prompts. Feel free to reach out.
Emily hadn’t really known what to expect of a Maid Contract, but she hadn’t expected this. After her… fun… at the mall, she had assumed that she wouldn’t see Amy or Clara again. A memorable afternoon, and definitely a surprisingly erotic one, but not one that she expected would have any long-term bearing on her life. Emily was no stranger to a little casual fun, and she felt quite pleased with herself and particularly with how light and well-drained she felt after being so thoroughly pegged. She did feel a slight twinge of guilt for whoever had to mop up the changing room, however.
As she pedalled her bike up the quiet street to her parents’ house and saw the unfamiliar car blocking the driveway her stomach twisted with sudden worry. No. It couldn’t be! Why now? She was still feeling blissful and relaxed from Amy’s skillful application of the strap-on, but that pleasant glow was forgotten now. Slowly, and with trembling hands, she locked her bike to the fence at the front of the garden and walked through the door to face her fate, as bravely as she could. Mentally she steeled herself; no matter how bad it was, it was only for the summer. This would pass.
Walking in, she thought she had prepared herself for anything. Her mind had spun with possibilities as she gritted her teeth: an older gentleman? A young family needing some help with the cleaning and the new baby? Maybe a middle aged couple looking to spice things up in the bedroom... She had thought herself prepared for anything. She was not prepared for the scene waiting for her in her living room as she walked through the door.
Clara was seated comfortably on her parents’ sofa; legs crossed, perfectly composed and calm. Emily’s father loomed large over Clara’s elegant shoulder as he poured her tea from the ridiculous flowered teapot that had belonged to Emily’s grandmother. Her mother and Amy had been chatting amiably over tea cakes as she had walked in, but they all fell silent as she timidly crossed the carpet. As Emily’s father poured her some tea, Clara locked eyes with Emily.
I’m dead. She thought to herself; they already know. It was a trap all along, and I walked straight into it. I’m going to get spanked in front of Clara, at best, I’m never going back to school, and I’m going to be someone’s maid forever.
Emily took a deep breath and tried to look calm, though she was biting her tongue almost to the point of blood, and her face had completely drained of blood.
“Oh. Hello! Such a pleasure to meet you, Emily; I’ve heard so much about you.”
Clara smiled at her over her steaming mug of tea, her smile innocent and her eyes positively dancing with mischief. She knew she could destroy Emily with a single sentence, but she seemingly had absolutely no intention of doing so. She absolutely wanted Emily for the summer, apparently; and Emily wondered if the whole business in the changing room had been a test that she had managed to pass. Emily was a fly who had wandered into her parents’ literal parlour, and Clara’s much more intimidating figurative one.
“Ahem…”
Emily’s father looked nervous and a bit ridiculous with the delicate china teapot clutched awkwardly in his powerful hands. For such a large and imposing man he found social situations like this incredibly awkward, and he struggled with finding the words to say. Compared to Clara’s flawless composure her normally stern and confident father seemed oddly timid and faltering.
“Er… Yes, Emily. Glad you’re home. This is Miss Clara and her… partner… Amy. They answered the ad for your maid service this summer; we just wanted to meet them first.”
“Please sit down and join us, dear. I do so want to get to know you better.”
Emily managed a nearly genuine smile and sat on the sofa next to Clara, folding her hands in her lap to hide her trembling.
“Er…. Hello… Yes. Lovely to meet you.”
Emily swallowed hard.
“I hope that my service will be acceptable.”
She looked at her parents, nervously. Her father was beaming, and even her mother looked quite pleased. They had expected her to fight this, to reject the first few options out of hand; they hadn’t expected such a respectful answer. Emily was a little insulted that they expected so little, but she couldn’t really blame them…
“Now Emmy, you will be taking a contract this summer; but if you don’t feel comfortable with Amy and Clara, we will arrange someone else. We um…”
His eyes flicked apologetically first to Emily’s mother, whose face had darkened considerably and then to Clara; Emily was incredibly relieved to see that it was her father who had drawn her mother’s ire this time, not herself. He flushed a little as he ran his hand nervously through his hair and he twisted his toe into the carpet, fidgeting. Emily had never seen him quite this flustered before; although she now knew where she herself had gotten that particular nervous tic.
He coughed and cleared his throat, then ran his hand through his hair once more. Emily wasn’t sure what was making him so nervous; until she followed his eyes. Clara was dressed tastefully enough, though she likely wasn’t wearing a bra. She had worn a powder blue tank top that showed off her modest bust and well-sculpted shoulders, as well as a pair of white denim shorts that while short were certainly not scandalous.
Scandalous or not, it was clearly having an effect on her father; he clutched the teapot like a shield, conspicuously keeping it between himself and Clara. He was attracted to her! Emily felt a warm and satisfied smugness flow through her body at the thought of what had just transpired earlier that afternoon, as well as the promise of more which her potential summer held. It was petty, but having this one small thing over her father felt good. He broke her reverie as he apologetically continued;
“We… ahem... hmm... actually arranged for 3 more interviews later today and tomorrow. I… er… suppose I should have mentioned...”
Clara sipped her tea and then replaced her cup gently on the saucer. If she was upset by this turn of affairs it didn’t show.
“Of course, Mr. Black, I understand completely. There is nothing guaranteed, since the young lady may refuse a placement with us, and there is only so much summer to go around. Please, Emily; allow me to make my case for taking a position with Amy and I.”
Clara moved a little closer to Emily; and held out her hand, which Emily took after a moment. Clara was petite and small boned, but her hand was surprisingly warm.
“If you work for me this summer, I will be strict with you, and I will see to it that you learn what a life working in the Collar Service is; both the good…”
Clara’s eyes radiated an invitation, that made Emily’s heart stop for a moment.
“… and the bad. You will learn etiquette, promptness, and time management at the bare minimum. I will be quite strict, but I am never cruel or unfair. Better yet, you will be learning the day-to-day part of service from Amy; who has been my beloved maid and companion for over ten years. She will teach you gourmet cooking, cleaning, how to sew and mend, and a thousand other little things that should prove invaluable to you should you someday choose the Collar. It will be a challenging summer, but I hope also a fun, educational, and rewarding one.”
Emily’s stomach was sour. Clara was sexual and attractive in a way she couldn’t even put into words; and she already felt a surprising bond with Amy, even in such a short time. In the dressing room at the mall, she had given Clara plenty of advance warning of her building orgasm, but instead of stopping it, she had encouraged and allowed it; drawing Emily in for a long and sensuous kiss until her spasming stopped and she felt fully drained. Remembering that generosity made her cage very tight and she knew she was dripping a little at the thought. Amy seemed well adjusted and happy enough; Emily wasn’t the most observant, but knew the signs when a collared girl was mistreated; but Amy seemed healthy, happy, and well-adjusted.
Still she hesitated. Maybe she would be offered a position with an elderly gentleman next; one whose “needs” in the bedroom would be rare, and whose physical limitations would mean she wouldn’t be as closely supervised. Or perhaps a place on a large staff where she could just disappear among the crowd; faceless anonymity had a certain appeal in these situations. A position with Clara would certainly be fun at times; VERY fun she imagined; but she would be constantly supervised and Clara had made no illusions about her strictness. Sexy Goddess or not, serving her would not be easy. Then again…
She glanced over at Amy, locking eyes with the brunette who could almost pass as an older sister; she pleaded with her eyes: Tell me if this is a bad idea… She hoped that she would be honest with her about what lay ahead; a tiny shake of Amy’s head or even the mildest scowl and the deal was off. She could plainly see that Amy was madly in love with Clara, but Amy had worn the cage herself for years and there was a sisterhood in that. If Clara was abusive and Emily had reason to refuse she hoped that Amy would tip her off. Instead Amy smiled widely at her; her whole body language was relaxed and welcoming and she gave a subtle nod. Emily for the first time since she had walked into the living room began to relax herself.
“I think I’ll take the position with Ms. Clara.” She said at last.
Moving in with Clara had been quite simple. Emily hadn’t needed her clothes or her computer or anything else. She had been allowed her phone and charger, but had learned from the very first day that she only got two hours with it before bed. Breaking that addiction had been hard; not having instant access to Twitter and Instagram and most especially Discord was definitely challenging, but she had managed.
The uniform was… something else. Clara had hoped to get her one that matched Amy’s exactly, but that particular cut of uniform was no longer made. After making Emily try on nearly every uniform in the shop, Clara had found one that met her requirements: The skirt, if you could even call it that, was ludicrously short; leaving both Emily’s cage and her posterior very exposed, which Emily wasn’t happy about, but having a rather large ball-gag in your mouth while shopping doesn’t leave much room for argument.
Clara had said that it helped for immediate correction on the fly; and she had most definitely demonstrated that was true. Clara kept a small and collapsible cane in her pocket at home, Emily had learned from her very first day the unnerving sound of the slim fibreglass cane snapping together as Clara opened it with a flick of her wrist. It also left her small breasts exposed; though she couldn’t really complain: Compared to Amy’s uniform hers was downright modest.
Her cage was broadly the same design as the one she wore at Rattangrove and at home; a simple tube that showed no skin whatsoever, leaving her utterly unable to tease herself to even a frustrating orgasm without the benefit of something that vibrated sufficiently. It was a bright and shiny red, matching both Amy’s cage and the red accents and bows on both of their uniforms. Red was Clara’s favourite colour and she felt that the red accents marked both girls as her own.
Clara herself slept in a luxurious king-sized bed in the spacious and airy master bedroom. Emily and Amy had spent the majority of Emily’s first night in the house serving Clara on that broad and soft mattress. Amy had given Emily her first lesson on proper massage, the precise temperature Clara liked her bath, and most importantly: exactly how Clara liked her pussy licked. Emily had very little experience with cis women in that sense, but she had gotten a crash course that night, and nearly every night afterwards. Emily couldn’t complain about that at all; Clara was gorgeous, incredibly sexual, and managed to always find something for both Amy and herself to be doing.
Emily’s first night had been especially memorable. Amy had been a little pouty about being locked back into her cage. After enough years of service and some quite expensive drug therapies, Clara had managed to remove Amy’s ability to get hard entirely. At that point, Amy hadn’t needed the cage, and hadn’t worn it in nearly 3 years. Clara allowed her to touch and play as she wished, but had forbidden her unauthorized orgasms, which Amy was now far too well-trained to disobey. Losing that hard-earned freedom from the hated cage had meant that Clara had to be very strict with Amy that night; and for Clara’s own entertainment; with Emily as well.
Kneeling nude on the bed Emily had held Amy’s hands as Clara put her newly re-locked partner through her paces. Paddle, strap, cane, and implements that Emily hadn’t even known the name of; she seemed to know exactly how much to give Amy to keep her wincing and squirming rather than allowing her bottom to become numb. More surprising to Emily was how much Amy dripped from her cage the whole way through. Her moans were not just of pain, but of lust and pleasure, and Clara seemed to know to stop just before Amy couldn’t take any more. When Clara finally finished, it seemed that Amy was completely detached from reality; utterly separated from the bedroom and Emily’s presence and floating on a cloud of bliss.
For Emily, punishment had always been just that: it was sharp, painful, humiliating, and a most decided deterrent against repeating the behaviour. When Clara had finished with Amy and tucked her into one side of the massive bed, she started in on Emily. The strokes were crisp, drawing a whimper or a yelp from Emily with each one, but never more than she could take. Clara took breaks frequently, to stroke Emily’s warming bottom gently, stroke her puckered hole with a finger, nibble on her ear, or to gently weigh Emily’s perennially heavy testes in her hand. For the first time in Emily’s experience, the rising heat in her bottom was matched by a rising heat in her loins as well.
By the time Clara finally laid down the flogger, Emily’s bottom was ablaze, but so was her brain; her cage was running pre-cum rather than merely dripping and her legs were watery and numb from the endorphins. When Clara had gathered Emily and Amy close to gently lick her to orgasm after orgasm they had responded eagerly; unable to satisfy themselves, they had turned their efforts entirely to satisfying their Mistress, red and striped bottoms in the air. They doted on Clara’s every whim, and in return Clara teased them, whipped them, bound them, and with a surprisingly large strap-on: stretched them deeply while they both begged for more.
The only thing she absolutely never did was unlock them; but Emily had already managed to cum twice that night alone, cage or no. When she and Amy finally staggered out of the bedroom on watery legs Emily felt mentally, spiritually and very definitely sexually drained.
Each evening, after Clara was finished with them; usually around 10:00; Amy would lead Emily down to their own small room in the basement. It was a simple and Spartan room, but hardly cramped; it was a little larger than Emily’s own dorm room at Rattangrove and much more thoughtfully furnished. A bunk bed stood against one wall, and a small desk and TV stand took up the other. From the time Clara dismissed them until midnight the pair could wash their uniforms, read, check their phones, and watch TV. Emily had wondered exactly how Clara could enforce their curfew despite being asleep until the lights, TV, and Wi-Fi snapped off at midnight exactly, the power to the room being cut on a timer elsewhere in the house.
The days were simple enough, though hardly repetitive. They rose at 6:00, and headed to the well-appointed home gym, where Emily could plug her headphones into her phone and run until 7:00 when Clara arrived for her own workout. Emily did feel a small pang of jealousy at Amy, as she had a monopoly on waking the notoriously heavy-sleeping Clara as Emily exercised. Clara often came downstairs with a quite obvious post-orgasmic glow on her face that never failed to make Emily’s cage tighten. She could very easily guess how Amy woke Clara each morning, and she couldn’t help be a little jealous.
While Clara worked up an appetite the pair prepared breakfast, and packed Clara’s lunch for her day at work. This was often Emily’s favourite part of the day. While she herself didn’t feel human until after her second cup of coffee, Amy was most definitely a morning person. She would turn on the morning news, and excitedly talk about the list of household tasks ahead of them while they cooked.
With Clara around, Amy was demure, quiet, and deferred to her Mistress immediately. With just the two of them Amy dominated the conversation; bursting with witty remarks and hardly letting Emily get a word in edgewise. Emily sipped her coffee, did her best to keep the eggs from burning, and nodded and smiled as Amy filled the kitchen with exuberant conversation.
The three of them ate breakfast together, and Clara left a list of chores to be done, or sometimes a suggestion as to what she wanted for dinner as she headed out the door for work. Amy and Emily took this opportunity to shower, most often together; and while their cages prevented them from having too much fun, they tended to take long showers indeed. The job absolutely had some fringe benefits, Emily could not deny.
The chores weren’t terribly difficult. The nature of their uniforms meant that Amy and Emily couldn’t really leave the house, so most items like groceries, the dry cleaning, and the mail were delivered right to the door. Answering the door nearly nude was something that Emily never did fully adjust to over her time in the household. While most of the deliverymen hardly batted an eye, quite used to collared maids everywhere, the UPS guy was about Emily’s age. He was tall, dark-haired, cute, and always took an extra minute to flirt with her. He never stared but he wasn’t shy about his attraction for Emily, and his eyes roamed over her body each time she answered the door.
Emily wasn’t the quickest to learn some tasks, but Amy seemed to have bottomless patience with her. Gradually, she learned to bake, to do simple sewing repairs to her uniform, how to clean an oven, how to change the air filter on a furnace, and so many other tasks. Amy helped her through it with unfailing good cheer and support, and Emily grew to see her as a sisterly figure within a very short time. That feeling didn’t stop them from hopping into each other’s beds after lights out, but it was a feeling of great affection and respect just the same.
Dinner was always special. Clara returned from work about 5:30 each day, and Amy always greeted her with a glass of chilled white wine. The two would discuss Emily’s progress over the course of the day openly and frankly while Emily massaged Clara’s feet. A poor review always meant a punishment, and Emily learned to dread the sound of Clara’s collapsible cane snapping together.
A meal at Amy and Clara’s was always an event; 3 courses at a minimum, and always 5 full courses on Sunday. Emily never once saw Amy refer to a cookbook or recipe card, she seemingly kept everything in her head; preparing everything expertly from scratch, and always off the cuff, adding a dusting of something new seemingly each time she prepared a dish. For Emily, this was immensely frustrating, as being a novice cook at best she had no recipe to refer back to, but she persevered.
After dinner, she and Amy would do the dishes, and then the pair could mostly relax. They were still on call, but Clara rarely asked much of them at this point, preferring to simply watch TV or sit at her computer; the most onerous task seldom more than an additional foot massage or to top up Clara’s drink. Often they wouldn’t have anything to do until Clara called them to their “bedchamber duties” at the end of the evening; a duty Emily never tired of.
In the end, Emily found that Collar Service, if a little repetitive and not particularly challenging, was comfortable, pleasant, and made her surprisingly happy. Clara was quick to correct with her cane, but as long as Emily worked diligently and respected her high standards Clara proved an easy Mistress to serve.
It would have all gone so remarkably smoothly had she never met Clara’s best friend Kim.
From the night of the fateful dinner party where she and Kim were introduced; until the moment Emily returned to Rattangrove, she found herself dragged deeper and deeper into the seductive charms of true submission, and barely pulled herself away in time to return to school at all.
Reblogged
Sent!
This blog contains adult content. In order to view it freely, please log in or register
and confirm you are 18 years or older
Maid for Service
Emily hadn’t really known what to expect of a Maid Contract, but she hadn’t expected this. After her… fun… at the mall, she had assumed that she wouldn’t see Amy or Clara again. A memorable afternoon, and definitely a surprisingly erotic one, but not one that she expected would have any long-term bearing on her life. Emily was no stranger to a little casual fun, and she felt quite pleased with herself and particularly with how light and well-drained she felt after being so thoroughly pegged. She did feel a slight twinge of guilt for whoever had to mop up the changing room, however.
As she pedalled her bike up the quiet street to her parents’ house and saw the unfamiliar car blocking the driveway her stomach twisted with sudden worry. No. It couldn’t be! Why now? She was still feeling blissful and relaxed from Amy’s skillful application of the strap-on, but that pleasant glow was forgotten now. Slowly, and with trembling hands, she locked her bike to the fence at the front of the garden and walked through the door to face her fate, as bravely as she could. Mentally she steeled herself; no matter how bad it was, it was only for the summer. This would pass.
Walking in, she thought she had prepared herself for anything. Her mind had spun with possibilities as she gritted her teeth: an older gentleman? A young family needing some help with the cleaning and the new baby? Maybe a middle aged couple looking to spice things up in the bedroom... She had thought herself prepared for anything. She was not prepared for the scene waiting for her in her living room as she walked through the door.
Clara was seated comfortably on her parents’ sofa; legs crossed, perfectly composed and calm. Emily’s father loomed large over Clara’s elegant shoulder as he poured her tea from the ridiculous flowered teapot that had belonged to Emily’s grandmother. Her mother and Amy had been chatting amiably over tea cakes as she had walked in, but they all fell silent as she timidly crossed the carpet. As Emily’s father poured her some tea, Clara locked eyes with Emily.
I’m dead. She thought to herself; they already know. It was a trap all along, and I walked straight into it. I’m going to get spanked in front of Clara, at best, I’m never going back to school, and I’m going to be someone’s maid forever.
Emily took a deep breath and tried to look calm, though she was biting her tongue almost to the point of blood, and her face had completely drained of blood.
“Oh. Hello! Such a pleasure to meet you, Emily; I’ve heard so much about you.”
Clara smiled at her over her steaming mug of tea, her smile innocent and her eyes positively dancing with mischief. She knew she could destroy Emily with a single sentence, but she seemingly had absolutely no intention of doing so. She absolutely wanted Emily for the summer, apparently; and Emily wondered if the whole business in the changing room had been a test that she had managed to pass. Emily was a fly who had wandered into her parents’ literal parlour, and Clara’s much more intimidating figurative one.
“Ahem…”
Emily’s father looked nervous and a bit ridiculous with the delicate china teapot clutched awkwardly in his powerful hands. For such a large and imposing man he found social situations like this incredibly awkward, and he struggled with finding the words to say. Compared to Clara’s flawless composure her normally stern and confident father seemed oddly timid and faltering.
“Er… Yes, Emily. Glad you’re home. This is Miss Clara and her… partner… Amy. They answered the ad for your maid service this summer; we just wanted to meet them first.”
“Please sit down and join us, dear. I do so want to get to know you better.”
Emily managed a nearly genuine smile and sat on the sofa next to Clara, folding her hands in her lap to hide her trembling.
“Er…. Hello… Yes. Lovely to meet you.”
Emily swallowed hard.
“I hope that my service will be acceptable.”
She looked at her parents, nervously. Her father was beaming, and even her mother looked quite pleased. They had expected her to fight this, to reject the first few options out of hand; they hadn’t expected such a respectful answer. Emily was a little insulted that they expected so little, but she couldn’t really blame them…
“Now Emmy, you will be taking a contract this summer; but if you don’t feel comfortable with Amy and Clara, we will arrange someone else. We um…”
His eyes flicked apologetically first to Emily’s mother, whose face had darkened considerably and then to Clara; Emily was incredibly relieved to see that it was her father who had drawn her mother’s ire this time, not herself. He flushed a little as he ran his hand nervously through his hair and he twisted his toe into the carpet, fidgeting. Emily had never seen him quite this flustered before; although she now knew where she herself had gotten that particular nervous tic.
He coughed and cleared his throat, then ran his hand through his hair once more. Emily wasn’t sure what was making him so nervous; until she followed his eyes. Clara was dressed tastefully enough, though she likely wasn’t wearing a bra. She had worn a powder blue tank top that showed off her modest bust and well-sculpted shoulders, as well as a pair of white denim shorts that while short were certainly not scandalous.
Scandalous or not, it was clearly having an effect on her father; he clutched the teapot like a shield, conspicuously keeping it between himself and Clara. He was attracted to her! Emily felt a warm and satisfied smugness flow through her body at the thought of what had just transpired earlier that afternoon, as well as the promise of more which her potential summer held. It was petty, but having this one small thing over her father felt good. He broke her reverie as he apologetically continued;
“We… ahem... hmm... actually arranged for 3 more interviews later today and tomorrow. I… er… suppose I should have mentioned...”
Clara sipped her tea and then replaced her cup gently on the saucer. If she was upset by this turn of affairs it didn’t show.
“Of course, Mr. Black, I understand completely. There is nothing guaranteed, since the young lady may refuse a placement with us, and there is only so much summer to go around. Please, Emily; allow me to make my case for taking a position with Amy and I.”
Clara moved a little closer to Emily; and held out her hand, which Emily took after a moment. Clara was petite and small boned, but her hand was surprisingly warm.
“If you work for me this summer, I will be strict with you, and I will see to it that you learn what a life working in the Collar Service is; both the good…”
Clara’s eyes radiated an invitation, that made Emily’s heart stop for a moment.
“… and the bad. You will learn etiquette, promptness, and time management at the bare minimum. I will be quite strict, but I am never cruel or unfair. Better yet, you will be learning the day-to-day part of service from Amy; who has been my beloved maid and companion for over ten years. She will teach you gourmet cooking, cleaning, how to sew and mend, and a thousand other little things that should prove invaluable to you should you someday choose the Collar. It will be a challenging summer, but I hope also a fun, educational, and rewarding one.”
Emily’s stomach was sour. Clara was sexual and attractive in a way she couldn’t even put into words; and she already felt a surprising bond with Amy, even in such a short time. In the dressing room at the mall, she had given Clara plenty of advance warning of her building orgasm, but instead of stopping it, she had encouraged and allowed it; drawing Emily in for a long and sensuous kiss until her spasming stopped and she felt fully drained. Remembering that generosity made her cage very tight and she knew she was dripping a little at the thought. Amy seemed well adjusted and happy enough; Emily wasn’t the most observant, but knew the signs when a collared girl was mistreated; but Amy seemed healthy, happy, and well-adjusted.
Still she hesitated. Maybe she would be offered a position with an elderly gentleman next; one whose “needs” in the bedroom would be rare, and whose physical limitations would mean she wouldn’t be as closely supervised. Or perhaps a place on a large staff where she could just disappear among the crowd; faceless anonymity had a certain appeal in these situations. A position with Clara would certainly be fun at times; VERY fun she imagined; but she would be constantly supervised and Clara had made no illusions about her strictness. Sexy Goddess or not, serving her would not be easy. Then again…
She glanced over at Amy, locking eyes with the brunette who could almost pass as an older sister; she pleaded with her eyes: Tell me if this is a bad idea… She hoped that she would be honest with her about what lay ahead; a tiny shake of Amy’s head or even the mildest scowl and the deal was off. She could plainly see that Amy was madly in love with Clara, but Amy had worn the cage herself for years and there was a sisterhood in that. If Clara was abusive and Emily had reason to refuse she hoped that Amy would tip her off. Instead Amy smiled widely at her; her whole body language was relaxed and welcoming and she gave a subtle nod. Emily for the first time since she had walked into the living room began to relax herself.
“I think I’ll take the position with Ms. Clara.” She said at last.
Moving in with Clara had been quite simple. Emily hadn’t needed her clothes or her computer or anything else. She had been allowed her phone and charger, but had learned from the very first day that she only got two hours with it before bed. Breaking that addiction had been hard; not having instant access to Twitter and Instagram and most especially Discord was definitely challenging, but she had managed.
The uniform was… something else. Clara had hoped to get her one that matched Amy’s exactly, but that particular cut of uniform was no longer made. After making Emily try on nearly every uniform in the shop, Clara had found one that met her requirements: The skirt, if you could even call it that, was ludicrously short; leaving both Emily’s cage and her posterior very exposed, which Emily wasn’t happy about, but having a rather large ball-gag in your mouth while shopping doesn’t leave much room for argument.
Clara had said that it helped for immediate correction on the fly; and she had most definitely demonstrated that was true. Clara kept a small and collapsible cane in her pocket at home, Emily had learned from her very first day the unnerving sound of the slim fibreglass cane snapping together as Clara opened it with a flick of her wrist. It also left her small breasts exposed; though she couldn’t really complain: Compared to Amy’s uniform hers was downright modest.
Her cage was broadly the same design as the one she wore at Rattangrove and at home; a simple tube that showed no skin whatsoever, leaving her utterly unable to tease herself to even a frustrating orgasm without the benefit of something that vibrated sufficiently. It was a bright and shiny red, matching both Amy’s cage and the red accents and bows on both of their uniforms. Red was Clara’s favourite colour and she felt that the red accents marked both girls as her own.
Clara herself slept in a luxurious king-sized bed in the spacious and airy master bedroom. Emily and Amy had spent the majority of Emily’s first night in the house serving Clara on that broad and soft mattress. Amy had given Emily her first lesson on proper massage, the precise temperature Clara liked her bath, and most importantly: exactly how Clara liked her pussy licked. Emily had very little experience with cis women in that sense, but she had gotten a crash course that night, and nearly every night afterwards. Emily couldn’t complain about that at all; Clara was gorgeous, incredibly sexual, and managed to always find something for both Amy and herself to be doing.
Emily’s first night had been especially memorable. Amy had been a little pouty about being locked back into her cage. After enough years of service and some quite expensive drug therapies, Clara had managed to remove Amy’s ability to get hard entirely. At that point, Amy hadn’t needed the cage, and hadn’t worn it in nearly 3 years. Clara allowed her to touch and play as she wished, but had forbidden her unauthorized orgasms, which Amy was now far too well-trained to disobey. Losing that hard-earned freedom from the hated cage had meant that Clara had to be very strict with Amy that night; and for Clara’s own entertainment; with Emily as well.
Kneeling nude on the bed Emily had held Amy’s hands as Clara put her newly re-locked partner through her paces. Paddle, strap, cane, and implements that Emily hadn’t even known the name of; she seemed to know exactly how much to give Amy to keep her wincing and squirming rather than allowing her bottom to become numb. More surprising to Emily was how much Amy dripped from her cage the whole way through. Her moans were not just of pain, but of lust and pleasure, and Clara seemed to know to stop just before Amy couldn’t take any more. When Clara finally finished, it seemed that Amy was completely detached from reality; utterly separated from the bedroom and Emily’s presence and floating on a cloud of bliss.
For Emily, punishment had always been just that: it was sharp, painful, humiliating, and a most decided deterrent against repeating the behaviour. When Clara had finished with Amy and tucked her into one side of the massive bed, she started in on Emily. The strokes were crisp, drawing a whimper or a yelp from Emily with each one, but never more than she could take. Clara took breaks frequently, to stroke Emily’s warming bottom gently, stroke her puckered hole with a finger, nibble on her ear, or to gently weigh Emily’s perennially heavy testes in her hand. For the first time in Emily’s experience, the rising heat in her bottom was matched by a rising heat in her loins as well.
By the time Clara finally laid down the flogger, Emily’s bottom was ablaze, but so was her brain; her cage was running pre-cum rather than merely dripping and her legs were watery and numb from the endorphins. When Clara had gathered Emily and Amy close to gently lick her to orgasm after orgasm they had responded eagerly; unable to satisfy themselves, they had turned their efforts entirely to satisfying their Mistress, red and striped bottoms in the air. They doted on Clara’s every whim, and in return Clara teased them, whipped them, bound them, and with a surprisingly large strap-on: stretched them deeply while they both begged for more.
The only thing she absolutely never did was unlock them; but Emily had already managed to cum twice that night alone, cage or no. When she and Amy finally staggered out of the bedroom on watery legs Emily felt mentally, spiritually and very definitely sexually drained.
Each evening, after Clara was finished with them; usually around 10:00; Amy would lead Emily down to their own small room in the basement. It was a simple and Spartan room, but hardly cramped; it was a little larger than Emily’s own dorm room at Rattangrove and much more thoughtfully furnished. A bunk bed stood against one wall, and a small desk and TV stand took up the other. From the time Clara dismissed them until midnight the pair could wash their uniforms, read, check their phones, and watch TV. Emily had wondered exactly how Clara could enforce their curfew despite being asleep until the lights, TV, and Wi-Fi snapped off at midnight exactly, the power to the room being cut on a timer elsewhere in the house.
The days were simple enough, though hardly repetitive. They rose at 6:00, and headed to the well-appointed home gym, where Emily could plug her headphones into her phone and run until 7:00 when Clara arrived for her own workout. Emily did feel a small pang of jealousy at Amy, as she had a monopoly on waking the notoriously heavy-sleeping Clara as Emily exercised. Clara often came downstairs with a quite obvious post-orgasmic glow on her face that never failed to make Emily’s cage tighten. She could very easily guess how Amy woke Clara each morning, and she couldn’t help be a little jealous.
While Clara worked up an appetite the pair prepared breakfast, and packed Clara’s lunch for her day at work. This was often Emily’s favourite part of the day. While she herself didn’t feel human until after her second cup of coffee, Amy was most definitely a morning person. She would turn on the morning news, and excitedly talk about the list of household tasks ahead of them while they cooked.
With Clara around, Amy was demure, quiet, and deferred to her Mistress immediately. With just the two of them Amy dominated the conversation; bursting with witty remarks and hardly letting Emily get a word in edgewise. Emily sipped her coffee, did her best to keep the eggs from burning, and nodded and smiled as Amy filled the kitchen with exuberant conversation.
The three of them ate breakfast together, and Clara left a list of chores to be done, or sometimes a suggestion as to what she wanted for dinner as she headed out the door for work. Amy and Emily took this opportunity to shower, most often together; and while their cages prevented them from having too much fun, they tended to take long showers indeed. The job absolutely had some fringe benefits, Emily could not deny.
The chores weren’t terribly difficult. The nature of their uniforms meant that Amy and Emily couldn’t really leave the house, so most items like groceries, the dry cleaning, and the mail were delivered right to the door. Answering the door nearly nude was something that Emily never did fully adjust to over her time in the household. While most of the deliverymen hardly batted an eye, quite used to collared maids everywhere, the UPS guy was about Emily’s age. He was tall, dark-haired, cute, and always took an extra minute to flirt with her. He never stared but he wasn’t shy about his attraction for Emily, and his eyes roamed over her body each time she answered the door.
Emily wasn’t the quickest to learn some tasks, but Amy seemed to have bottomless patience with her. Gradually, she learned to bake, to do simple sewing repairs to her uniform, how to clean an oven, how to change the air filter on a furnace, and so many other tasks. Amy helped her through it with unfailing good cheer and support, and Emily grew to see her as a sisterly figure within a very short time. That feeling didn’t stop them from hopping into each other’s beds after lights out, but it was a feeling of great affection and respect just the same.
Dinner was always special. Clara returned from work about 5:30 each day, and Amy always greeted her with a glass of chilled white wine. The two would discuss Emily’s progress over the course of the day openly and frankly while Emily massaged Clara’s feet. A poor review always meant a punishment, and Emily learned to dread the sound of Clara’s collapsible cane snapping together.
A meal at Amy and Clara’s was always an event; 3 courses at a minimum, and always 5 full courses on Sunday. Emily never once saw Amy refer to a cookbook or recipe card, she seemingly kept everything in her head; preparing everything expertly from scratch, and always off the cuff, adding a dusting of something new seemingly each time she prepared a dish. For Emily, this was immensely frustrating, as being a novice cook at best she had no recipe to refer back to, but she persevered.
After dinner, she and Amy would do the dishes, and then the pair could mostly relax. They were still on call, but Clara rarely asked much of them at this point, preferring to simply watch TV or sit at her computer; the most onerous task seldom more than an additional foot massage or to top up Clara’s drink. Often they wouldn’t have anything to do until Clara called them to their “bedchamber duties” at the end of the evening; a duty Emily never tired of.
In the end, Emily found that Collar Service, if a little repetitive and not particularly challenging, was comfortable, pleasant, and made her surprisingly happy. Clara was quick to correct with her cane, but as long as Emily worked diligently and respected her high standards Clara proved an easy Mistress to serve.
It would have all gone so remarkably smoothly had she never met Clara’s best friend Kim.
From the night of the fateful dinner party where she and Kim were introduced; until the moment Emily returned to Rattangrove, she found herself dragged deeper and deeper into the seductive charms of true submission, and barely pulled herself away in time to return to school at all.