Chapter 4: The Redness

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Eventually, the journey was over, and I heard the sound of gravel crunching under the tyres shortly before the car’s engine was turned off. I heard a door open and someone getting out, followed by a draught of fresh air as my door was opened and my seat belt released.

Mummy spoke, "We’ve arrived; please swivel around and put your feet on the ground, and then I can help you up and guide you to your room."

Carefully, I did as she asked; her hands under my armpits helped me stand before she helped me up steps, through doors, and around corners.

I felt the drawstrings of my hood being slackened, then it was pulled off, and I screwed up my eyes against the sudden brightness.

"This is your room, Baby."

I peered around and saw a single bed, a chest of drawers, and a small armchair. The walls were plain white, with no decorations. The floor was covered in unyielding vinyl. Blinds covered a large window, and in front of me, along the wall, were two closed doors with a long mirror mounted between them. Mummy walked across and opened a door.

"This is your ensuite, shower, basin, and loo."

She closed the door and opened the adjacent one.

"This is your wardrobe; these packages hold your working costume," she pointed out. "When I leave, please strip off all your clothes and dress in the stuff here; use everything."

She came close to me, knelt to release the ankle cuffs, and then stood and released the cuffs on my wrists.

"Whenever I do something for you or to you, you must say, "Thank you, Mummy."

"If you forget, you will be punished. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mummy. Thank you, Mummy."

"The same applies to Daddy."

"Yes, Mummy. Thank you, Mummy."

With that, she turned around and left my room. I sat on the bed, which was firm and comfortable. I fluffed the pillows; they seemed to be soft and feather-filled. I looked in the ensuite and saw fluffy towels, soap, shampoo, and even a full bottle of perfume that I knew was not a cheap brand.

I went to the window and rolled up the blind. Outside was a lawn with a small border of annual flowers. The garden was enclosed by evergreens that were about five metres high. They looked like laurels with big, glossy, deep green leaves. There was no sign of any other houses, although beyond the laurel I could see the tops of some tall trees but nothing else.

I tried to open a window, but it was locked. Out of curiosity, I decided to peek outside my room, but when I turned the door handle, I found it locked. Being a prisoner was not what I expected.

Finally, I turned my attention to the wardrobe, opened the door, and took out the packages I found on a shelf.

It felt like Christmas, enjoying the pleasure of finding the secret continents of my presents. As I laid out the clothing, I realised it was a traditional maid’s outfit, a dress with a very short skirt. It was mainly black and shiny, finished with white ruffled piping around the neck, sleeves, and hem. The dress was complemented by a white apron and a set of black lingerie. Everything was white or black except the panties, which were a deep red, almost the same shade as Daddy’s car.

So I stripped out of my clothes, pulled the Lovense toy out of my hole, and then dressed to become Mummy and Daddy’s slut. I admired myself in the mirror; the bra pushed my boobs up, and the neckline showed my décolletage perfectly. The stockings looked perfect on my legs, and the suspenders taught against my flesh. And my pussy was snug in the silky-soft maroon panties. The pièce de résistance was a white garter, wrapped around my thigh just above the skirt’s hemline. There were no shoes, just a pair of soft, black slippers.

At a loss as to what to do next, I cast around for my handbag, but it was nowhere to be seen, which meant no phone. So I sat on the bed and dreamed about Mummy having orgasms with me watching, gradually shifting to lie on the crisp, white sheet.

My eyelids were drooping, but I had aroused myself with the daydreams and so slipped a hand inside my panties out of boredom. Two fingers started frigging beside my clitoral area until I was close to the edge, and then I shifted them onto my clit and rubbed hard until my orgasm hit. Sleepiness took over; I felt myself roll back onto my side before blackness descended, with my hand stuck between my thighs inside my panties.

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"Wake up, Baby!"

I opened my eyes, pulled my hand out of my panties, and rubbed the sleep dust obscuring my vision. Mummy was there, standing by my bed.

"You have been very naughty, a bad Baby indeed."

I pushed myself upright on the bed and looked up at her.

"Sorry, I didn’t mean it. What have I done?"

"That's two infringements now."

"Why?"

"First, you have masturbated without permission. Second, you have failed to thank me."

I pouted my lips, feeling rather resentful.

"Sorry, Mummy. Thank you, Mummy."

"Stand up!"

I stood, still half asleep, still resentful.

"Turn around, bend over the bed, and look straight ahead."

"Yes, Mummy. Thank you, Mummy."

I did her bidding.

The first blow to my buttocks was a shock; she hit so hard that I staggered forward. I cast a glance back and saw her holding a paddle.

"No looking."

Another stroke. I kept quiet, despite the pain.

"You must thank me after each stroke."

"Yes, Mummy. Thank you, Mummy."

"Your punishment for each offence is six strokes, with ten still to come."

Thwack. "Thank you, Mummy."

Thwack. "Thank you, Mummy."

Thwack. "Thank you, Mummy."

By the fifth blow, I was sobbing; the pain was awful.

"Now, you must count each stroke when you thank me. The next one is number six."

"Yes, Mummy. Thank you, Mummy."

Thwack. "Six. Thank you, Mummy."

Thwack. "Seven. Thank you, Mummy."

How did I manage to keep count? I don’t know; the pain was excruciating, and my sobs had merged into a continuous cascade of tears.

Thwack. "Twelve. Thank you, Mummy."

"Now, Baby, you must understand that being a sub is more than just being slutty. It is a state of mind where everything you do, say, or even think is subservient to obeying Daddy and me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mummy. Thank you, Mummy."

"Good girl, Baby. I’m leaving you for a while to discuss your behaviour with Daddy. Do not play with yourself again. Alright?"

"Yes, Mummy. Thank you, Mummy."

On the way out, she picked up my discarded street clothes and the Lovense toy.

I heard her close the door, and this time I heard the bolt outside being drawn across my escape route. I lay on the bed, tummy down. My bum hurt far too much to lie on, but the pain had diminished to a bearable level. Inside, I was a churning maelstrom of sexuality because the pain had turned me on. I felt the wetness between my legs, but fearing further punishment, I kept my fingers far away from my love button.

Now, for the first time, I understood what was meant by being a sex toy, being owned and controlled by a person or a couple. This understanding brought me peace. I knew that my relationship with Mummy and Daddy had become something special and precious, and I desperately wanted it to continue. I needed to worship them forever with my body and my soul. My fetish was my reality.

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Chapter 5: The Pupil

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I stayed sitting on my bed, lost in my reverie until Mummy came back.

"Come along; it’s time to see Daddy in his office, but you must wear wrist shackles again. These have a longer chain; they shouldn’t hinder you from most tasks."

"Thank you, Mummy."

I stood patiently while she fitted them on me. These had little padlocks; perhaps I could have released the velcro type.

She led me out of the room, and I had my first view of the house. My room was in a short hallway, and from it, we emerged into a gallery with a well open to the ground floor. I shuffled carefully down the stairs. Ahead at the bottom, I could see the front door, and around the hall were several closed doors.

Mummy headed for the one nearest the bottom step, knocked, and entered.

"Baby K is here for you."

She ushered me in, stepped back, and walked out, closing the door behind me. I was left staring at Daddy’s back as he sat watching a computer monitor on his desk. Then he swivelled around in his chair to look at me.

"On your knees, Baby."

I lowered myself to the floor, kneeling upright. Daddy rose from his chair and picked up something lying on the desk.

"Baby, you are our sub; this is your badge of honour. You will wear it all the time, even in bed."

He held up the object, and I saw what it was; a black leather collar. Daddy leant forward, put it around my neck, and then buckled it tightly at the back. He then turned to his desk and picked up a chain, which he clipped to a ring under my chin before fixing the other end to the chain between my wrists.

"Thank you, Daddy."

"Lean forward until your chin touches the floor, then stretch your arms out in front."

I followed his instruction; my bum was left sticking up in the air. I heard him moving around, then felt the hem of my little skirt lift and drop onto my back. I knew my maroon panties were now exposed, tightly drawn over my cheeks. I also knew the effect that strong-coloured lingerie has on men of a certain age. I was sure Daddy would be smitten by my submissive stance. After all, he had put me in it.

"Open your legs so I can see between them."

"Yes, Daddy. Thank you, Daddy."

I shuffled my knees apart and felt the space between my thighs open. Then his hands started wandering across my bum, gently feeling the material. One hand slipped into the newly opened space, and his fingers probed my pussy, pushing the panty inside my hole. My whole body shivered with the expectation of pleasure.

"Now, Baby, I have a special task to perform. Mummy punished you earlier for infringements, but I will punish you purely for my pleasure. Stand up, and bend over that chair.”

He pointed to an unholstered dining chair on one side. I duly bent over, supported on my lower arms, my bum stuck high in the air. I felt him lift my skirt and fold it over on my back, then he pulled my panties down to my ankles.

“Step out of your panties, Baby.”

I wiggled my feet around until the garment was clear of me, and looking over my shoulder, saw Daddy pick it up.

“I guarantee it will be very painful, but you must remain still, exactly as you are now."

"Thank you, Daddy."

"Do you understand?"

"Yes, Daddy. Thank you, Daddy."

"You can scream all you like and cry buckets, but do not move, or you will suffer more."

"Yes, Daddy. Thank you, Daddy."

"Six strokes of the cane on those delicious bum cheeks."

I heard the cane whistling through the air. Then it landed on me. I screamed long and loud. My cries were reduced to a whimper just before the next stroke came. Another scream, more sobbing, stroke after stroke, until all six had landed on me. After the final one, I was sobbing uncontrollably, but I didn’t move one millimetre.

Then Daddy mounted me. I was sopping wet and 100 per cent ready for fucking. Every time he bucked against me, stabs of pain coursed across the cane marks on my cheeks, and every cell of my buttock flesh seemed to have a life of its own. Throughout, I felt my clit respond, demanding its release. When he thrust inside, the surrounding lips pulled on my pleasure centre, increasing my urgency.

I came, pleasure flooding my brain; my hips bucked, and my chin lifted off the chair as my whole body flexed and flapped, but I still didn’t move one millimetre. Daddy was already puffing and panting before my movement started his orgasm, great, deep thrusts into my vagina, depositing his sperm where it could begin its futile journey into my womb.

Daddy collapsed onto my back. I felt the warmth of his rasping breath on my neck; I felt his softening cock slip out of my hole; I felt the running juices drip off my pussy lips; but most of all, I felt absolute devotion and love for Daddy.

After a while, he moved off me and came to stand over me.

"Kneel, Baby, and put your hands on your knees."

I swivelled around and lowered myself to the position he wanted, and my field of vision became filled with his flaccid cock close to my face.

"Clean it, Baby; suck everything off."

I lifted my hands to grasp his shaft.

"No hands; put them down again."

I leaned forward and caught his dangling tool in my mouth, sucking and licking his cum and my juice. Then I felt his hands on my head, pulling me into his body. Suddenly his cock jerked, and fluid poured into my mouth. He was using me as a pissoir. I tried to swallow, but there was too much. I gagged, then coughed and spluttered while I ejected the accrued urine from my mouth onto his flesh and trousers.

"Oh dear, Baby, you need more training."

With that, he jetted another load down my throat. This time I managed to swallow it all; practice surely makes perfect.

"That’s better, Baby." He gave me a lovely smile before bending forward and giving me a deep kiss.

Daddy sat in his chair, his soft cock sticking from his trousers between his legs.

"Now, Baby, have you wondered how Mummy knew you had been playing with yourself?"

"No, Daddy, I didn't."

"OK, look at this."

He turned back to his keyboard, and in a couple of seconds, I was on the screen, seen from above, happily jilling away.

"As a sub, you have no privacy; we can watch you every second, day and night. There is no way you can hide disobedience."

I was shocked because it had not occurred to me how Mummy knew. But the logic was irrefutable. I was a sub, owned by Mummy and Daddy, completely under their control.

"Now, I have someone you need to meet."

He rose from his chair, his cock still loose for all to see, and opened the door.

"Come in."

I turned to see the visitor. Another maid dressed just like me but with one very obvious difference. It was a man. I looked closely at his face, clean-shaven, neatly cut short, brown hair, and very handsome. I tried to age him, probably in his early forties, but that costume was so distracting; although it showed off a nice pair of masculine legs, whose ankles were embellished with shackles joined by a chain.

He knelt next to me, leaving just a few centimetres of space between us, before glancing at me and giving me a soft smile.

"Baby K, this is Baby A, though we usually call him Baaba. You are never to use your outside names. Here you are, our property, our babies."

My eyes stayed glued to his face, fascinated by and feeling drawn to him. But my fixation was disturbed by Daddy.

"Baby K, I have told you how I enjoy inflicting pain, and you were a perfect subject. But your caning was not the worst thing I could do. Now watch."

With that, he picked a small object from his desk and pointed it at Baaba, who screamed in pain and collapsed on the floor, writhing in agony. The terrible, agonising display lasted about half a minute, then Daddy put the device down, and the wretched soul beside me calmed down.

"Sit up, Baaba."

He struggled back into the kneeling posture, tears running down his face.

"You might not believe it, but he loves the pain and lives for the pain. He has an electrode in his anus and another on his cock cage."

I watched him as he nodded in response to Daddy’s claims.

"Good. Now, Baby, you have duties to perform. Your costume reflects your dual positions as a submissive domestic drudge as well as being our sex plaything. You will clean and serve throughout your time here. Baaba is your superior, so you must obey his orders and work with him to serve our needs. Your first task is to prepare dinner. Baaba is the chef, and he’s a very good one. You assist and serve at the table. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Daddy. Thank you, Daddy."

So we left the room; Baaba guided me to the kitchen and the dining room and showed me all the crockery, cutlery, and other tableware before I started my "below stairs" job.

I found it hard to engage Baaba in small talk; he seemed immersed in his cooking, and as the meal came together, I could see just how proficient he was. I had done some bar work many years before, but the exactitude required by Mummy and Daddy exceeded anything in my experience.

Somehow I managed to waitress the meal and pour the right wine at the right time, and I almost enjoyed the atmosphere created by the beautiful couple I was serving out of love.

After the meal, we were called into their drawing room and praised for our joint effort. I felt proud. Daddy spoke to us.

"Now, children, you must leave us to enjoy our privacy. Go to your rooms, strip off, and put all your costume stuff on the floor by the door. We will remove your chains first. Mummy will see you in a couple of hours. Meanwhile, have a shower and relax."

I watched as Mummy turned a key in each shackle, opened it wide, and let it swing across my tummy. Then she unhitched the chain from my collar, and the whole set dropped to the floor.

"You wear your collar twenty-four-seven, but the cuffs and chains are only for daytime use."

"Yes, Mummy. Thank you, Mummy."

"Baby, there are a nightdress and robe for you in your wardrobe."

Upstairs, by my room’s door, I turned to Baaba and gave him my most winsome smile.

"Thank you, Baaba; I’ve enjoyed being with you today."

He smiled back, leaned towards me, and gave me a gentle peck on my cheek before walking further down the hallway and entering his room.

Inside I found the nightdress, which was white with a profusion of small flowers all over. It looked comfortable but not sexy, like something a child might wear. I showered, dressed for bed, and then sat quietly. There was no choice. No TV, no phone, nothing, and no way to know the time.

I looked up at the ceiling, trying to spot the camera position, but there was no clue, nothing, nada.

Later, Mummy came in; she collected my day clothes, threw them into the hall, and then left some parcels in the wardrobe, explaining they were tomorrow’s uniform.

She then put her arms around me, pulled me tight to her body, and kissed me hard on my lips. Her tongue probed my mouth, and I relaxed into the pleasure of my first-ever deep kiss from another woman.

"Goodnight, Baby."

"Goodnight, Mummy. Thank you, Mummy."

She left my room, and I heard the door lock. I was a prisoner for the night.

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In the next part, Baby K learns about service.