I
was not at all sure what to expect and I’m now not sure what to make of it
all. But if I keep a kind of record of
each day, it might make some sense.
So
let’s start at the beginning, which seems like yesterday although was probably
a few years back. My wife figured that
if I was to get back into the workforce I’d need to get some training to get my
skills up. Her ideas of the skills I
needed were probably a bit old fashioned and revolved around her being the
bread winner and me being the housewife.
She knew using that term rather than house husband would get me
interested and she was right. “Maid service
it is then” she’d said although I’d heard her say “slave service”.
My
last bit of work had been as a Girl Friday and it was while working there that
my wife got to know Mistress Eleanor. It
was a simple step for my wife to put me in service with her as a result. This also worked well for my wife as she was
off on a long holiday and wouldn’t have to worry about me and she could relax
and enjoy herself. Why couldn’t I go on
holiday? I couldn’t afford it and my
wife wouldn’t pay saying it was my fault.
So
training it is. Or service. Or even slavery. Time will tell.
With
just a small bag that my wife had packed for me I found myself dropped off at
an imposing stately home. Hmmm, I
thought, so Mistress Eleanor is really Lady Eleanor. I was about to approach the front when I
suddenly appreciated why my wife had dropped me off at the side, there was a
servants entrance. With a sigh I walked
up to the nondescript door and rang the bell. My wife had said all the
arrangements had been made, that I was not to embarrass her by being less than
perfect, not
to ask questions, and that I better not disappoint Mistress Eleanor or
else. It will be good to know you are being useful while
I’m on my holiday my wife added.
I
had expected to wait but the door opened immediately and I was dragged inside,
a cloth bag placed over my head, strong hands stripped me and bound my wrists
behind my back and forced me to my knees.
My cries were muffled by the bag and all I could think was I’d
interrupted a burglary or worse. I
stayed still, the only movement being the twitching of my penis as it slowly
became erect, swelling to its full size of just over three inches. Oh how embarrassing.
In
a short while there was the tantalising sound of high heels and then a woman’s
voice I recognised. “You fools, that’s
marcia our new maid, I’d recognise that disgusting maggot anywhere. Quick, get it to the downstairs room so it
can get dressed.” I was about to try and
say something, but I remembered my wife had told me not to ask questions.
I
found myself in literally a downstairs room, one of those rooms under
stairs. Just a small bed, closet and a
chair which I realised was a commode. There was a surveillance monitor in one
corner, but apart from that no evidence of electrical points. Just a single light bulb illuminating the
room which I realised was really for the benefit of the surveillance device.
There
was a note on the bed along with a diary.
I picked up the diary but it was blank.
The note told me I was to keep a diary of my time here and also what to
wear and to wait for further instruction.
Conscious I was naked I went to the closet and had a look at the
things. Interesting. Just getting dressed is going to keep me
occupied, although I am wondering what Mistress Eleanor expects of me and what
my wife is up to without me, as long as she’s having fun.
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