Date: Mon, 10 Dec 2012 17:11:05 -0500
From: randolphus
The Vacation
by "randolphus"
Part Eight
Now it Works
When Lisa left, Carol told me what we needed. Carol drove
because I no longer had a car and we bought the material at a
local hardware store. In the store Carol had a poodle collar in
her hand and was eyeing me and I stood far enough away so she
wouldn't measure it up against my crotch.
Carol said: "You have to fasten the chain to the collar; it's
easy if you have tools."
I have tools and we fastened it. Then we put a hook in the wall
at about eight feet above the floor. We even bought a folding
step stool just for this room.
Carol put the collar on me and pulled on the chain until I was
under the hook and then she pulled and urged me to get taller
and kept urging and pulling on the chain and then she hooked it.
Carol said: "Where do you keep the handcuffs?"
I had completely forgotten the horror of this torture.
Carol said: "Do you want some more strap, answer me when I talk
to you."
I said: "I'm sorry Miss Carol, my mind isn't working. I think
they are in the middle drawer on the left side of the sideboard
in the dining room."
A few minutes later I was handcuffed and left alone. I replayed
in my mind all the events that led me to this spot. I asked
myself what I should have done differently.
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Lisa was rubbing her hand over my red butt telling me that the
keys to the handcuffs are missing and she's worried because she
wanted a bath before lunch.
I said: "If you get this chain and collar off me I'll help you
look for it."
She said: "You can't help if you're handcuffed and Carol said
you need ten minutes more."
I said: "Pull the drawer out where Carol got the handcuffs and
see if you can see anything."
A minute or so went by, Lisa said: "That's where it was, stuck
in the back of the drawer. But you have to stay here for seven
more minutes."
I said: "Thank you Miss Lisa."
I started thinking. I put myself here and I wondered if I was
crazy. Can I annul the transfer of money based on temporary
insanity? I don't even have enough money to take a bus to see an
attorney. Both of my calf muscles have cramped, my penis was
stretched to the limit and could be damaged..
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Carol climbed the step stool and yanked the chain off the hook.
She unlocked my handcuffs. She said: "Harry we have only made a
down payment. You have to learn that just because Lisa isn't
more physically aggressive, you can't break rules whenever you
feel like it."
I said: "Yes ma'am."
Lisa said: "You better start fixing lunch we're having company."
I said: "Yes ma'am."
I fixed a Quiche and a salad with greens, mushrooms and
couscous. I also served all the Rhine wine the ladies wanted.
They ate it all and almost finished the bottle I was serving.
They left nothing for me to eat.
I cleaned the kitchen and asked the ladies if I could get
anything.
Carol sent me to the small bedroom.
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additional eavesdropping.......
Carol said: "Gladys lives nearby, are you sure you haven't met?"
Gladys said: "You play tennis at the community center? I think
I've seen you there."
Lisa said: "Yes I do recognize you."
Gladys said: "Harry seems very obedient, is that your work
Carol?"
Carol said: "I helped, but he is very intelligent and willing
and Lisa did and is doing the hard stuff."
Gladys said: "Has he done any hair?"
Carol said: "Yes he was in one of my classes and worked for
about a week for a very experienced person. He did my hair and
Lisa's and he takes care of us."
Gladys said: "Would he like to work?"
Carol said: "Lisa decided he would."
Gladys said: "I see, that IS impressive."
Carol said: "Harry has been receiving some catch-up strapping
this morning. Lisa doesn't like to hurt him, and since I'm here
he got a working over this morning and it would have been worse
but you were coming over."
Gladys said: "Can I meet him and talk to him?"
Carol said: "Of course, there is a room here that is sort of a
punishment room for him. He's waiting there or he can come back
here."
Gladys said: "I would love to see the room."
Three ladies entered the little bedroom. I was leaning against
the far wall from the door.
Carol said: "Stand up straight. Mrs. Jones will ask you some
questions."
I said: "Yes ma'am.
Mrs. Jones was taller than Lisa and was dressed very elegantly.
She looked like a lady who owned a beauty salon. She may have
been fifty but exuded youthfulness because of her enthusiasm.
Mrs. Jones said: "You have some experience with hair?"
I said: "Yes ma'am."
Mrs. Jones said: "Would you like to work at my salon?"
I said: "It's up to Miss Lisa ma'am."
Carol said: "Take your shirt and trousers off."
I said: "Yes ma'am;" and took them off.
I was wearing the leggings and I knew this was going to be very
unpleasant for me.
Mrs. Jones immediately rubbed my ass, and said: "Is he getting
more this afternoon?"
Carol said: "Yes and more tomorrow."
Mrs. Jones said: "This is a lovely whipping horse."
Carol said: "Harry built it."
Mrs. Jones said: "I'll have him build one for the salon. Can I
fit him into it?"
Lisa said: "Go ahead; I was going to do it in a few minutes."
Mrs. Jones was wearing an attractive perfume I inhaled while she
fastened me to the horse.
The three ladies left and I couldn't eavesdrop because I was
tied down.
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It turned out that I went to work for Mrs. Jones both at her
hair salon and in her house. That was all outrageous because
Lisa wanted the same amount of time with me as before.
I never heard the conversation where it must have been decided
that Mrs. Jones became responsible for my whippings.
Mrs. Jones came for coffee and 'while she was there' the Harry
book came out and it seemed I needed to be whipped. That was
repeated almost weekly.
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I told Lisa that I was struggling.
Lisa fastened me to whipping horse and sat in the chair and
said: "Tell me what's troubling you Harry."
I said: "There is too much for me to do, and who is Mrs. Jones
that she beats me mercilessly on a regular basis?"
Lisa said: "I will review your schedule, but remember you're my
slave and working you hard, very hard is what I'm supposed to
do. And if you didn't screw up so much you wouldn't get whipped
so much. I'm going to leave you here until dinner time to think
about what we discussed."
While I was serving Lisa dinner, she said: "Gladys whips you
because of notes I make in the Harry book. I will tell you when
I make a note so you'll know why you are going to be whipped."
I said: "Thank you ma'am;" but she didn't say I was going to get
fewer whippings.
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On Friday night Mrs. Jones was invited to dinner.
Lisa said: "Gladys and I have been talking about the fact that
we share you but you spend more time with her than with me.
Gladys will move in with us, that way you can serve her more but
you'll be here and there will be a whole house you won't have to
care for. But Gladys will require you to move her stuff here and
get rid of what she doesn't want."
My relationship with Mrs. Jones was like the one I had with
Rosita. She knew everything about hair. And again like with
Rosita I was treated as a non-person. I swept and mopped, and
cleaned the windows and mirrors. All the other hair dressers
used me as the 'boy' to do errands and chores.
One morning there was a discussion about my not driving. It
proved that I was a lower caste of human, but they were
irritated because it limited my usefulness. And Mrs. Jones did
nothing to steer their attitudes, in fact if any disagreement
came to her attention, I would lose. She would threaten pulling
my pants down and talk of giving me a whipping. Yet she had a
mother hen attitude toward me with the customers, explaining
just what I needed to do and frequently told me how she hated
whipping me, but did it for my own good and I would be happier
in the long run.
I learned that Lisa's musings in the Harry book was what caused
me so much pain. Example: "Last night Harry undressed me and he
showed no interest."
Mrs. Jones interpreted that as requiring ten strokes with her
switch.
I got that kind of information by asking Mrs. Jones which of the
entries caused the whipping I was about to receive. Rule 19
forbids me to look at the book because it has Lisa's private
thoughts.
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Finally I said: "Miss Lisa, I am your slave, but am I also Mrs.
Jones's slave?"
Lisa said: "Of course not, you are mine 100%. I just told Gladys
she could use you and I told you to respect her, why are you
asking?"
I said: "Since I'm your slave, maybe you can specify how much
punishment I deserve instead of letting Mrs. Jones interpret
your thoughts."
Lisa said: "Okay."
That night while I was undressing Lisa, I said: "May I kiss your
body?"
Lisa said: "Yes, but you don't have to ask."
Kissing certain parts of Lisa's body seemed to be a non-
threatening way to proposition her. Almost everything else was
forbidden by some rule. For example if I simply ask if we could
have sex, we may, but if she didn't want to I would have
violated the rule against propositioning her when she wasn't in
the mood.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Gladys and Lisa were going to see a movie everyone was talking
about. I asked Lisa if I could go with them.
Lisa got furious that I don't consider her feelings when I ask
for things so she put me in the spanking horse and she and
Gladys went to see the movie. When they got back I heard the
bell that calls me but I could not go to her.
Then Lisa came into the small bedroom and she said: "It was your
fault I put you here, I can't remember everything, it's your job
to keep me organized." She released me, and I was cramped and
bent over for a few minutes. Lisa was alarmed.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A few nights later Lisa asked me to unload the chair she bought.
It was a nice dining room chair with arms.
Lisa said: "Put it in the small bedroom. This will be your time
out chair. I want you to add ways to secure you there."
My loving goddess bought me a chair so I wouldn't get a cramp
when I'm being punished.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Since I rode to and from work everyday I ended up with lots of
time with Mrs. Jones. I learned her history. She and her husband
had always been in the hair salon business and he was an
entrepreneur who at one time had eight shops. They sold their
small chain to a national organization for enough money to
retire. Then her husband got sick and died suddenly. For a year
she traveled around the US and Europe and found it boring. She
opened up a beauty salon.
The 'girls' got all the fees and tips but they paid Mrs. Jones
rent to occupy one of the stalls. She said the business breaks
even most months and the rent went up when I arrived and that is
why the 'girls' at first resented me but they are happy with
what I do.
This explained to me why they considered me their 'boy'.
I asked Mrs. Jones how she got into fem-dom. She said her
husband was into it and she met Carol and tried to do what Carol
was doing.
She said: "I tried it at a hotel in the US and it's not
practical. Carol was right to do it in Mexico."
We talked a lot about the business and how the business model
was that Mrs. Jones was renting stalls and the operators were
paying her rent. The place was called US Girls. Since I was a
slave in Mrs. Jones eyes we couldn't plan together but I made
suggestions.
The operators had their clients and not many new clients walked
in. The operators didn't show up when they didn't have anything
scheduled so most of the time the place looked deserted. I
suggested making the operators chip in a small amount and use it
for business development, mainly advertising.
I suggested making the girls pay a percentage instead of a fixed
amount.
I suggested we have a common scheduling activity and have an
answering service.
I suggested we schedule using the internet, and much more.
Some ideas were accepted, some were converted to a different
idea.
The business exploded. I didn't even know but Lisa had invested
$50K in US Girls. Mrs. Jones credited some of the success to my
ideas and she told Lisa. Most days there were seventeen women
doing hair for most of the day.
Lisa and Mrs. Jones have walled me in.
I asked Lisa if ever I would not be a slave.
Lisa said: "Harry you are my slave for the rest of your life. If
I throw you out you will starve. No matter where you go, your
earnings are mine. My lawyer said a contract like the one you
signed went to court. The husband signed over his future
earnings to his wife and the wife won. So you better keep me
happy."
I asked Mrs. Jones whether since I was doing so many other
things for the salon such as working with the ad agencies,
maintaining and improving the web site with the scheduling
program, doing the books and payroll and I had almost twenty
clients, could we get a cleaning service so I wouldn't have to
do it.
She said: "Of course not. I can't afford you thinking you're
important. And I think you have to clean better because I saw
smudges on some of the mirrors and I saw dust under my phone
when I moved it."
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About a month after that, I had the opportunity to give Mrs.
Jones a massage. (Lisa said to do it.) Normally I massage
between twenty and forty minutes depending on the mood of my
subject (usually Lisa).
Mrs. Jones got more and more relaxed and this went on for over
an hour and I didn't stop for another fifteen minutes; and then
partly because my back was hurting and she had become as limp as
a rag doll. I covered her and brought her some coffee.
I propped her up and handed her the coffee. Mrs. Jones said:
"That was very nice Harry. That was the first time in my life I
had a massage. It's very sweet you bringing me coffee. It would
be nice if you brought me coffee at work."
Of course I brought coffee for Mrs. Jones every day from then
on. The ritual was that I would bring the coffee and she would
find a reason to ignore me, like reading a letter, or searching
for something and other activities for a few minutes. (She
didn't have a computer then.)
When she finally recognized me she questioned me about what I
was going to do that day, or how the business was going, even
though we rode in to work together in her car.
I got a tray and put the coffee on it and a folder that had the
previous day's receipts, and the month and year to date results
with comparisons to the prior period and my calendar page. All
that information came out of the accounting program we were
using.
I was a junior manager presenting the enterprise's performance
to the president. I did this for several weeks; at times I had
to get her a second cup. It was the really first time she was
exposed to our accounting system and the information it
produced.
Then one day she told me to get quotes for a cleaning service
because I was doing too many things, but on the other hand, she
never offered me to sit in one of the chairs around her desk
even though the presentations sometimes took over an hour.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
One day Mrs. Jones said: "Harry sometimes you remind me of my
Joe. But Joe liked to tell me what to do. You will never be in
that situation. I tell you what to do."
I said: "Yes ma'am;" and recalled the thrashing she gave me a
few evenings before.
Mrs. Jones has great technical knowledge about hair care and she
has been in the business a whole lifetime. That is sufficient
reason to respect her, but the threat of her switch makes a
compelling reason.
One of the hairdressers noticed that the more I worshipped her
the worse she treated me. But she treats me the way she would
treat her husband if she could do it again.
Mrs. Jones impressed me when she walked around and visited my
clients, I introduced her as the owner and it was always instant
friendship and almost always she noticed something about my
client's hair that we could improve on. And six weeks later she
may be walking around and see the same client, she remembered
the clients name, the hair issue and they talked to each other
as if they had met every day.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lisa and Gladys are great friends. They go out together to the
movies and restaurants and except on very rare occasions I'm not
even allowed to fix dinner for myself, instead there is
something special Lisa or Mrs. Jones assign me to do that is
more important than me eating.
I learned the hard way to act delighted....
Five or six months ago, I dressed Lisa to go out with Gladys to
a new restaurant. Lisa said I might come along and I was very
excited. We were gathered in the hall.
Mrs. Jones said: "Harry, my mattress needs turning and while
you're doing that would you vacuum under the bed, and my closet
is getting dusty will you vacuum in there too, you may have to
take the shoes and stuff out."
I said: "Miss Lisa said I could come with you tonight."
Lisa said: "Harry that was before I knew Gladys had something
for you to do."
I said: "Miss Lisa, may I eat something?"
Mrs. Jones said: "I think you better get started with the work
because I can't go to bed until you get done."
I was disappointed and I resignedly said: "Yes ma'am."
Lisa yelled at me: "Harry I want you in the small bedroom, now!"
Lisa fastened me to the whipping bench.
Lisa said: "Do you know what just happened?"
I said: "Yes ma'am, and I'm so sorry."
Lisa said: "Explain what happened?"
I said: "I was so disappointed that I wasn't going with you that
I forgot what a great privilege it would have been to clean Mrs.
Jones' room."
Lisa said: "You said that very well, I'll think about what to do
to you."
I said: "Thank you Miss Lisa."
The light went out the door closed and I heard the ladies
leaving. I remember Lisa going crazy and locking me in the
outhouse for nearly two days. I had no idea what she will do
tonight.
A couple of hours later the light went on and without any
warning Mrs. Jones started beating me with her switch. She was
yelling at me that I'm ungrateful for all the things Lisa gives
me then whack whack with the switch and more abuse about I'm a
cry baby because I was begging her to stop and I was beginning
to literally cry.
Lisa entered the room and said: "Gladys use the belt, I think he
respects that more. Make sure he counts the strokes. Give him
25."
I sucked in my breath. I couldn't believe what she sentenced me
to. On top of the thin cuts made by the switch the strap seemed
to penetrate under the skin, I screamed and whimpered and
managed to count but Mrs. Jones was implacable, about not
screaming, she said I could cry only, not scream and beg. I got
over 30 because I couldn't help screaming and begging.
All the while I saw Lisa standing in front of me being so
beautiful. She was wearing a short black skirt and high heels. I
was suffering for her.
When the terrible strap finally stopped I sobbed for a whole
minute.
Lisa said: "What have you to say to Gladys?"
I said: "Thank you for the beating Mrs. Jones."
Gladys draped the strap in front of me, she said: "Kiss it."
I did, I will do whatever these ladies tell me, I will be very
happy to do what these ladies tell me I kept repeating.
Lisa said: "You have to undress me and hang up my dress;" and
she released me from the bench.
While I was at Lisa's feet taking off her shoes, I sort of lost
it and said: "I will never disappoint you again Miss Lisa. I
will always be your slave."
Lisa said: "Good, but your punishment is not over."
I got her bathrobe and put it on her and her slippers and we
went downstairs and Lisa put the collar on me and pulled the
chain up so tight that I could only move a few inches to the
left or right.
Lisa said: "Try to sleep, I expect you to work tomorrow. You
exist to serve me"
I said: "Yes ma'am Miss Lisa;"
I did somehow sleep and in the morning I was released so I could
help my goddess get dressed and to fix breakfast.
Now I realize I don't get to go out with Lisa and Mrs. Jones, I
understand that if they ask me to do something I have to gladly
do it. If they don't think to tell me to have dinner I don't get
any dinner.
So is all this terrible?
It may seem abusive. But I wouldn't change anything.
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read part nine here
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