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Only Three Days. Part 1.

 

 

I think I should warn those of 'a nervous disposition' that this story contains very dark themes, brutality and worse. If you are not prepared for that, then stop reading now.

 

Copyright 2012 Sissy Barbie. All rights reserved.

 

It might help when reading this story to know that anything Andrew says is in single quotes and everything the other characters say is in double quotes.

 

 

 

 

How it began

 

Andrew was feeling bad the whole time, like he was going to vomit or something worse. He went to see his doctor who said he had depression. The doctor prescribed some pills and later Andrew found they made him feel a bit drunk the whole time, but better that, than the constant feeling something awful was about to happen. After a few visits, the doctor asked if Andrew had ever had any thoughts of suicide, and Andrew said yes, as the illness kept dragging on it seemed the only way out. The doctor sent him to see a psychiatrist, a Dr Ferguson, who turned out to be a lady psychiatrist. Though Andrew was not one for admiring women, he had to say Dr Ferguson was beautiful and graceful, a real lady. He was surprised that near the end of his first session she gave him a complete physical examination, including taking measurements of his most private parts. She said that she had trained as a physician before specialising in psychiatry and needed to rule out a physical source of his depression. In their third session he confiding in her that he 'dressed up in women's clothing' and tied himself up in the privacy of his own bedroom, purely to aid masturbation, and that his most powerful fantasy was that of being a house maid in bondage. He said it was merely a fantasy and that if it happened for real he would run a mile and probably never ever want to do it again. She said "Do you really mean that? You would be cured of your obsession if it were to happen?". He said 'Yes, I think so, unless I found it so nice I wanted to do it all the time, but I very much doubt it'. The session ended but the next time she proposed a scheme to cure him. "My husband and I have a house in the country, and it needs a spring clean. Monday after next is a holiday, would you consider being our maid for three days? My husband is in electronics and has some ideas for bondage which you will definitely not find to be 'so nice' and should put you off your obsession for good." Interesting Andrew thought, 'Well I'll give anything a try once, in a way its just a longer version of what I already enjoy, and by the sound of it might indeed put me off for good and perhaps then I'd get over my cowardice and actually ask a girl out for once'. "Of course we would have to be protected against a charge of false imprisonment or slavery. My brother is a lawyer and I can get him to draw up a legal document, under which you would be committed to my and my husband's joint care under the mental health legislation for a period of three days."

 

The following Friday afternoon Andrew was at the offices of solicitors Billings and Clarke for a meeting with the Fergusons and Mr Clarke, Dr Ferguson's brother. Andrew read through the document and was surprised there was a clause for an optional indefinite extension of the three day period. Dr Ferguson said that was what Andrew had asked for and her brother said it was too late to change the document that day anyway. "If you do not want the extension, then just don't sign that section. Simple" said the solicitor. Andrew thought, well yes, he had said that but he did not expect it to be down in black and white. 'As the holiday weekend starts tomorrow, and there will not be another holiday for months I suppose I had better sign the document.' One of the legal secretaries witnessed the three signatures.

 

Andrew was now in the "care" of the Fergusons and they drove him to their home. Dr Ferguson gave him what he thought was his usual pill, but it must have been much stronger, or maybe a sleeping pill because he did not remember anything about the journey. He remembered the last bit, they were driving through lovely countryside, rolling hills and then around a corner a stately home came into view and they drove up an impressive drive and parked in the stables round the back. 'You didn't say it was a huge house! I've only got three days.' said Andrew, to which the doctor replied "Never mind, there are just a few rooms to be spring cleaned. Just keep the others as clean as they are already"

 

Dr Ferguson explained the floor at ground level was officially the basement, and was where dozens of servants had worked up to the first world war. The floor above was called the ground floor and had much higher ceilings and contained a dining room, withdrawing room, breakfast room, study, library, games room, music room, a few other reception rooms and a hall which was also sometimes used as a ballroom. This and the first floor were where a lord and his family had lived when not in London. The first floor also had high ceilings, had been modernised and now had about twenty bedrooms all with en suite bathrooms for when they entertained guests. The top floor was in the roof, had a few small dormer windows, low ceilings and was where the servants had slept and was now used only for storage.

 

They all went through the tradesman entrance into a huge Victorian kitchen dominated by a dresser on one of the walls containing hundreds of bone china plates and other crockery, all the same pattern and spotlessly clean. The large table in the centre of the room was covered with a black cloth. Mr Ferguson went up the stairs to the ground floor and the Doctor sat on a high stool at one end of the table and said "Well me might as well find out straight away if everything fits you properly. Draw back the cloth about two feet at a time and put on what you find underneath". Andrew yawned as he said 'Yes, anything - yawn - you say doctor Ferguson. I always obey - yawn - doctor's orders' She said "Oh are you still tired from the sleeping tablet I gave you?" 'Yes doctor' "Settle down on the couch in the corner and have a little nap."

 

Andrew lay on the couch and went to sleep. He had a dark erotic dream where he fantasised about what lay under the black cloth.

 

Andrew woke and found the doctor was again sitting on a stool at the end of the table. He rubbed his eyes and had a stretch and she said "You look fully awake now. You can begin trying on your stuff now." Andrew drew back the cloth, revealing first a thick stainless steel collar, hinged in two parts. He closed it and found it easily came apart again. "Put it around your neck silly" she said. He did so then pulled back the cloth some more and found two thinner rings which looked too small for his wrists. "They are not like a watch or bracelet which go around your Ulna and Radius, they go around the notch between your hand and arm, which really is your wrist" Andrew put one on and found they restricted the movement of his hand. He could hinge it back and forward but not left and right. "Now the other one" she commanded. He tried to say 'OK' but his collar constricted his windpipe as the first fraction of the 'O' came out. His hands went to his throat and tried to re-open the collar, to no avail. After a couple of seconds the collar allowed him to breath once more. "Its a collar of silence and obedience, there is a microphone on the inside and another on the outside. If there is more sound from the inside mike, then it is coming from you and the collar tightens to silence you. The outside mike is monitored for the tone of my husband's and my voice, and if displeasure is detected, the collar tightens until we stop speaking or our tone changes. Understand?" Andrew felt tricked, he thought they were just trying things on for size tonight. He had expected this evening to be a reconnaissance and in the morning he could make a final decision to submit or not. He was shocked. It looked like it was straight into his maid role. As he had practised his maid fantasy so many times he dropped into a deep curtsey and averted his eyes. "Oh very good, I think you are going to be acceptable. You can get up now". "Your trying to speak activated the latch so it won't come undone again until your central control computer sends it a signal to do so, it will do that in three days unless your contract is extended. Now put your other cuff on." He went to do so but the doctor interjected in an irritated tone "What do you do first when you are given a command?" His collar tightened. He realised his mistake and did a low curtsey "Thats better." He put on the other cuff. "Thats right, now strip to the waist and go on to the next item". He curtsied low. Dear reader, please take it as read that from now on Andrew always does a low curtsey whenever he is given a command by either of the Fergusons and when he enters or leaves their presence, and always looks at the floor in their presence except when I tell you otherwise or when he has to look up to perform his duties.

 

Andrew thought he did not like the way this was going. "Hurry up we haven't got all night" she said in a sarcastic voice, the collar cutting off his breathing again while she spoke. The next item was a bit strange, it was a stainless steel bra with two rings connected by short metal braided electrical cables and a similar short cable with a plug. "Put the rings around your upper arms, latch the bra together at the front and connect the plug into your collar, it will latch in so you cannot unplug it". He REALLY did not like this, he put up his hand to say no but she just started telling him off and continued until he ran out of breath and in desperation gave up and put it on. The cups were really heavy. Seeing his surprise she explained "They have got batteries in them which get recharged as you sleep". "If you leave the range of your controller's radio signal, they will shock your heart into ventricular fibrillation and you will probably die, you'll certainly never escape". Hell, no way out of this he thought, thank god its only three days!

 

"Take off your shoes and the rest of your clothes". He did so and put them on a chair with his jacket and shirt. He covered his private parts with his hands. "I'm a doctor, you think I haven't seen thousands of them before?" Andrew put his hands to his sides. "As I thought, a bit small but the testes are big enough to be clamped, and electrocuted if you disobey." Whoa, hang on a minute he thought but she proceeded "Reveal the next item" It was an epilator. "You must use it to remove all the hairs below your waist and on your arms from the upper arm bands downwards. Including your fingers and toes. You will use it at least twice every day as part of your toilet routine. You can deal with your five O'clock shadow as well and the hair in front of your ears, and any hairs on your neck and any body hairs within about six inches of your neck. I'll be back later, if you aren't finished you will be punished severely." Not knowing how long he had, Andrew got on with it as quick as he could so he could miss whatever the doctor had in mind for his punishment. He had just finished when she returned.

 

"I expect you have realised we are monitoring you, I guess you hoped I was a sadist, well I'm not, though my husband may have some fun with you, especially when I'm not looking. If you work hard, life will be bearable but slacking is not an option." she said. "We are not just monitoring pictures of you, each of your bonds transmits its position every time it moves more than a millimetre. Your wrist bonds detect movement of your tendons so the central controller even knows where your fingers and thumbs are too. When you are fully kitted out every part of your skeleton will be 100% under control. Now reveal the next items and put them on." A pair of stockings with a bold seam down the back made of what looked like black 10lb fishing line. He had no option but to put them on. They scratched. The next item was a stainless steel chastity belt come corset with two stainless steel garter belts attached with more steel braided electrical cable and a plug to attach to the bra. Inside was a catheter to fit up his penis with a thin bare wire up the middle, two containers for his testicles with metal foil each side and a plug for his anus, hollow at both ends but he could not see through it. He put up mild resistance until his bra contracted and squeezed all the air out of his lungs. With the help of some lubricant he managed to get the catheter and plug inside himself and the belt / corset outside him with his balls trapped in their cups. VERY uncomfortable but he had no option but to obey.

 

He was still getting his breath back when he pulled the cloth again revealing a pair of high heeled shoes. "Your Master's idea, I'd have had you in flats" said his Mistress. He could see the tip of the heel was the head of a pin which ran up the centre of the heel with a sharp point which would stick into his foot if the tip of the heel was pressed upwards by the floor. He pressed the tip gently and was relieved to find it did not push in easily. There was a low platform sole, also with spikes on the inside. "Want to know how they work? If you stand still with a quarter of your weight on each sole and heel, the springs will take your weight and the points will remain retracted. Take short quick steps and there is an oil filled damper which stops the springs expanding quickly and so protect you. Take long slow steps and the damper will be overcome and allow your own weight to compress the springs and push the spikes into the bottom of the foot which is on the ground. Just remember rapid small steps and keep your weight equally on sole and heel." He did not want to put them on but the wire up his catheter electrocuted the contents of his bladder, making his bladder contract violently but his penis was blocked so nothing happened apart from excruciating pain. So he had to put the shoes on, and do up the metal straps which snapped with no visible means to undo. He had sat on the chair to put them on and was now ordered to stand up. He did so very carefully and all seemed OK. "Walk towards me" she said. He tried to take a short six inch step but his back foot was in agony before his front foot had moved far enough and he quickly slammed his front foot back onto the floor. He tried a one inch step which was fine, and he soon discovered the largest step possible was about four inches if he moved quickly enough. He minced to the doctor and then back again.

 

He found the corset was almost imperceptibly tightening around him. Every time he breathed it ratcheted a tiny bit smaller. Hopefully it will stop at the required size and not just crush me to death he thought.

 

The next item was a pair of crimson knickers (panties). "You are to protect your modesty, if I see red you will be punished. I can't speak for my husband on that." Next came some white lace and ribbon bands which attached to the garters by poppers, small press studs. Next came a black French maids uniform. Andrew had half expected a Victorian style one to go with the corset. "My husband's preference, not mine." she said. With a built in fairly full petticoat, it was almost long enough to cover his garters and did at least cover his 'modesty' as long as he did not bend over or climb stairs. The front was moderately high, with puff sleeves which covered his upper arm bands.

 

Next came more lace and ribbon bands, this time for his wrist bonds, the bottoms of the puff sleeves, the neck line and a wider one for his collar together with his maid's apron, a large rectangle below and a smaller one above, all trimmed with lace and with a ribbon in between. He tied the ribbon round his waist and a large bow behind his back. The bottom part just hung down and the top part attached to the bodice with more poppers, as did all the bands.

 

"Now lets get your head under control." said the doctor. She came over and pushed something into each of his ears and he could hear a barb latch them in. "That will stop you eaves dropping, it plays white noise to you except when I need you to hear commands. They may be directly from me or my husband or more often from your controlling computer, which has a schedule of work you have to do and knows how it should be done. It will pass routine instructions to you when you need to hear them. My husband describes you as being merely a dumb peripheral of a highly complex computing system." Moments after she stopped speaking, Andrew's ears were filled with a crackle like a TV set makes when a channel closes down, but almost unbearably loud. It stopped just long enough for him to hear her say "Open your mouth". She used a machine like a stapler to attach four small censors to the inside of his mouth at the two corners and the two lips. They were very painful at first. A synthesised computer voice said "lips apart" so he opened his mouth, it then said "mouth corners closer". Andrew was not sure exactly what this was about but brought the corners of his mouth closer to each other, his lips forming an 'o' shape. "correct" said the voice. He relaxed but the voice once more said "mouth corners closer" and there was an electric shock applied to his right testicle. Andrew got the message, from now on he had to hold the pose permanently like a blow up doll ready to have a penis shoved in its mouth.

 

The last item under the cloth was a black wig with a white lace cap already popper-ed on with white ribbons which hung down the back of his neck with ends cut into twin spikes with pins poking out to irritate his neck. Before putting it on he had to brush all his hair upwards and lacquer it there. Then the black wig was glued on top. On the underside of the wig was a device which monitored the position of his head. "Well thats you secured. When we have visitors they will not know you are in bondage, we will tell them you are mute and also a bit simple. From now on, you must show respect by looking at the floor except when you need to look elsewhere to carry out your orders. The ribbons will remind you to tilt your head forward but if you ignore them for long your controlling computer will correct you too. You will not receive any food tonight, hunger should make you a bit more malleable by the morning." Malleable! He thought how could I possibly be MORE malleable, I'm like putty in your hands already. I'm standing here barely getting enough oxygen into my lungs through a mouth I have to concentrate on holding like a fish, looking at the floor in respect, unable to hear anything but your commands, trying to keep my weight exactly balanced on my feet wearing a maid's uniform made of the cheapest, scratchiest cloth, with my every movement monitored, unable to speak, unable to even fart or wet myself and you want me to be more malleable!

 

It was now late and Andrew was shown how to attach himself to his 'bed'. It was more like a medieval rack. So he could be available immediately, he was to sleep fully dressed, his skirt hanging down into a gap so it didn't get creased by his weight. His bare buttocks rested on two metal pads which could move independently to beat him. The small of his back and shoulder blades rested on three more pads, his chastity belt connected to a pipe and his mouth was filled with a gag with another pipe attached, his head was in a helmet which also covered his face and each of his limbs were held by three clamps. His fingers were in tubes with a pad for each fingertip. Every pad and clamp could impart electric shocks. He was told all would release in two seconds if he were summoned for duty. It was explained that during his working day, small punishments would be applied instantly but for more major transgressions, a period of 'agony' would be given, they would be added up and would be applied in one period when he went to 'bed'. To keep his mind busy during the day, he was to think up ways he could serve his owners better. He was to type his thought into a terminal of the control computer before going to bed but if they were not good enough, or he had none, he would automatically receive ten seconds 'agony'. He was excused this today, but was given a one second 'free sample'. It lived up to its name, how could anyone bear that for ten seconds or more he wondered. "One last thing, you are no longer Andrew, you will be addressed as 37, not number 37, just 37. You are no longer male, no longer human or even animal, you are a mere domestic appliance which happens to be made in female form. You will never referred to as 'he' but '37', 'it', or if we are feeling generous, 'she'." 37's Mistress left and as she closed the door the lights turned out.

 

As 37 lay there immobile, the bed drew the liquid from her bladder, re-filled it with a tingling liquid then flushed it twice with what was presumably plain water. Then the same for her anus except that it started by filling almost her entire digestive system with liquid, so full she thought vomit was going to come up her throat and drown her. After being sucked out for the final time, liquid began to fill her mouth and she drank it until she thought her belly was going to burst when the water fortunately cut off. Totally exhausted 37 finally went into a deep sleep.

 

Saturday.

 

37 was not allowed to know the time, but sometime in the early hours it was awoken from a deep sleep by cramp in its calf muscles and an inability to breathe, generating much adrenaline. It was on its feet in two seconds flat. Her controlling computer had been programmed to retract the bonds then bring its peripheral out of sleep mode by these means. This would happen every day from now on.

 

37 was directed to pick up a rubber bucket and fill it from a water butt in the kitchen. Then it had to pick up an empty rubber bucket, a cloth and a scrubbing brush. Like a man guiding a woman with a hand behind her back, small electrical impulses from its bra and arm bands guided it to the servant' staircase, which was made of small steps about two inches high, they are called easy risers. They suited her now reduced stride, a normal stairs would have been impossible to walk up. It was guided up to the hall, which was the size of a ballroom. Without a word of command it was guided like a horse by its riders legs and reins and to a corner of the hall where impulses on the straps over its shoulders made her kneel down. It was guided to wet the brush in one bucket and scrub the floor, the computer told her to wipe up the water with a cloth and wring it out into the other bucket. Its knees were starting to hurt a bit already but there was no choice. The pulses nudged it over by little more than half the width of the scrubbing brush and the procedure was repeated over and over. Pulses to her anus made the length of each stroke gradually longer and faster as she progressed through the hall and her stomach muscles began straining on the backward stroke. 37's knees were now very painful, it was rapidly developing housemaid's knee. The computer gradually upped the pace 'how fast will I have to go?" it wondered. Exhaustion overcame 37 and it had a 'little death', its body trying to ejaculate and would have done so but for the catheter up its penis. The computer detected a pressure relief valve opening, a little semen being redirected into her own anus. The computer backed off the pace a little, having established exactly how hard it could push her.

 

Other than the sound of the brush's bristles and a tiny tinkle when the cloth was wrung out, it worked in complete silence, and the Fergusons slept on. When the floor was finished 37 was exhausted and its head was reeling from hunger, not having eaten for about 18 hours. It was guided back to the kitchen and told to put on a yoke with two enormous buckets attached to it. 37 was guided out into the grounds, where the sun was rising, the weather was freezing cold and the thin cloth of the uniform was little protection and its bare arms and practically bare legs felt the cold terribly. 37 had no choice but to be guided down a sloping track at the back of the house, shivering violently all the way and arrived at a well where there was some shelter from the wind. 37 had to fill each of the buckets in turn. With the well cover open, she was rather afraid of falling down the well, she attached one of the buckets to the rope and found the crank handle very stiff. Not just stiff, but the handle was designed to rotate on the crank so as to avoid friction with the palms of the hands. This handle had seized solid on the crank and was uncomfortable to turn. 37 had to put up with the pain, she turned and turned, the rope was running out, after about fifty turns, the bucket touched the water and a couple more turns and the bucket was full. Bringing it up was worse because of the the weight of the water. Despite 37's bleeding hands it repeated the procedure with the other bucket. As it was removing the second bucket from the rope, exhaustion and a particularly violent shiver made her trip and she very nearly fell down the well. She got up and closed the well cover and attached both buckets to the yoke and put it on. She could hardly breathe enough standing still, corseted as she was and with the weight of two buckets, the water and the yoke all pressing on her shoulders. Labouring up the path made 37 feel like a pack mule, constantly spurred on by its controller whilst utterly exhausted. She lifted her head to look at the house to see if she could guess the number of rooms to be kept clean. As 37 got closer it saw a figure at an upstairs window, Mr Ferguson wearing a dressing gown, he moved to one side and picked up a small object, his furious shout was relayed into her ears at ear splitting volume, 37's throat was clamped and both testicles erupted with pain. "Don't you know to look at the ground and as you have seen me, don't you know to show respect? What kind or robot maid are you? Curtsey NOW and don't dare get up until I tell you, and keep those buckets off the ground." 37 went down into a low curtsey. "Lower, your legs are to make a 90 degree angle." 37 did so and the buckets very nearly touched the ground. Her throat was un-clamped and she took the deepest breaths her corset would permit. As her mouth had opened too far the synthesised computer voice said "mouth corners closer". She complied. The pain in the testes was replaced by pain in her legs, gradually getting worse. She started counting in her head, ten seconds, twenty, thirty, when would he allow her to rise? The pain was unbearable, her legs were shaking violently on top of shivering, on top of lack of sleep, hunger, physical exhaustion, a full bladder and the weight of the buckets, water and yoke. She was on the point of passing out when she heard "Up!" but she couldn't, she collapsed. "Useless bitch-bot, pick yourself up. For every second you take you will get an extra second of 'agony' tonight." Her throat released once more but her legs felt like they were on fire. Even knowing of the punishment awaiting her she was incapable of getting up. She lay there for about half a minute before she managed to push herself up on the rims of the buckets to a kneeling position and from there back to standing. She dreaded the coming of night and the agony it would bring, it was only the light at the end of the tunnel that in three days she would be released that kept her going. She slowly made her way back to the house where she had to lift the buckets high enough to tip them into the water butt. The house's only water supply was the well, though there was an electric pump to distribute water from the butt in the kitchen to the rest of the house every drop had first to be brought up from the well in buckets.

 

Next 37 had to prepare breakfast on a big coal fired range which already had the fire laid and just needed lighting. The Master and Mistress had pre-programmed their regular breakfasts, bacon, sausage, fried egg, fried bread and coffee for him and toast, cereal and orange juice for her. 37 did her best and was guided to put the food into a dumb waiter which was heated and would keep the hot food hot whilst she minced up the two floors via the dark servants staircase. She was guided to a bedroom and knocked. No answer. She was guided to enter, keeping her eyes firmly on the floor, not wishing to further offend her master. The white noise in her ears stopped for a few moments but instead of the expected commands she heard her Mistress's passionate shrieks in the final act of making love. She studied the floor and made a long low curtsy a few moments passed. "Oh its 37" her Mistress said totally unconcerned. To her 37 was a machine "You can serve my breakfast, my husband is not quite ready yet". It did so and was directed to start running a bath. 'More water from the well' it thought, but of course did as directed, making sure the water was at blood heat and no more by dipping with its elbow and being mildly scalded once. It returned and served its Master's breakfast. He grumbled it was too cold and awarded a further five seconds agony. It thought it unjust but no appeal was possible, and started counting down the hours to its release. It helped her Mistress out of bed and into the bathroom where it helped her undress, into the bath and had to wash her. It was surprised how intimate it had to be and her Mistress's apparent trust, but remembered that 37 was considered to be a mere machine incapable of taking advantage of that trust and even if it was possible to perform any inappropriate actions, they would result in dire consequences. It left her Mistress to soak and found its Master had already washed and it fetched his clothes and shoes and helped him put them on. It was very careful as it was already in its Master's bad books.

 

After about another hour's fetching and carrying for the Master and Mistress they left separately, it looked like he was going to play golf and she was going clothes shopping. At last 37 was allowed to empty her bladder, then given another enema and topped up with water but no food in the interests of 'malleability', an old trick practised by religious sects on new recruits. Carbohydrates were now exhausted and her body was running on reserves of fat with a gradually rising panic for food.

 

 

37 was directed to change the sheets of her Master and Mistress's bed, even though soiled, the silk felt lovely to it compared to its scratchy uniform. It collected the dirty clothes for washing, hoovered the floor, thankful that there was at least one domestic appliance (apart from herself).  It cleaned the bathroom and took the dirty sheets and clothes back to the kitchen. It washed up the breakfast things in a butler's sink and put them back on the dresser and in a cutlery rack. A few items of clothing went into a modern washing machine but most of them, plus the silk sheets were to be washed by hand, which took quite a while. It hung them in the garden to dry along with the items from the washing machine. The wind was still strong but it was by now quite warm, so they would dry quickly.

 

37 went to the hall and was told to start cranking a small handle on the wall. After a few minutes it realised there was a huge chandelier slowly descending from the ceiling. It was twelve feet across, electrically lit by several dozen bulbs and had thousands of crystal prisms and probably weighed a ton or two.  There were multi-faceted round prisms and not just long triangular ones. She cranked until it nearly reached the floor, then had to remove every prism in turn, wash it in ammonia, or at least thats what it smelled like then polish it and replace it. There were long chains of crystal which could be done as a group but still took a lot of work. Unlike the floor, this was dirty and she realised this must be part of the expected spring cleaning rather than the routine work she had been doing up to now and which she had not actually signed up for. The stink of ammonia nearly took her breath away on several occasions, not helped by being tightly corseted. Though she worked quickly it still took hours and she was not finished when Dr Ferguson returned. "Well I can see you have not finished this, I am disappointed. I saw the floor before I went out, now show me the rest of your work." It was really 37's control computer which was being spoken to and it guided her to show her Mistress the items on the clothes line in the garden, which were fine apart from a bird had messed on one item. 37 took it back in to be re-washed. The doctor noticed there were two plates on the dresser which were sub-standard in their washing. The bedroom and bathroom were found to be acceptable and 37 was given "just" ten seconds agony for not finishing the chandelier, the plates and dirty clothes as it was a first offence in all cases.

 

She was instructed "Leave the chandelier where it is, just get rid of the awful smell and then start making dinner. Oh and tie the bow of your apron properly, I'm feeling generous so I'll let you off that one. Come to think of it, put on a fresh apron and wrist bands, they look like you have got them wet." 37 did as directed, but was horrified when she saw the complex meal she had to prepare, worthy of a Michelin star restaurant and ending in something a tiny bit simpler, the doctor's favourite sweet, baked Alaska. She was told to take off the fresh wrist bands and put on two long latex and metal sleeves which connected to both her wrist bands and under her uniform to her upper arm bands. She was told to relax her arms and discovered that her control computer could send impulses directly to the muscles which controlled her fingers, wrists and elbows. It knew exactly how to prepare the meal and she watched somewhat amazed as her arms prepared the meal with great skill and precision and amazingly good food appeared on the plates as if by magic. Actually as she still had control of her shoulders and rest of her body she was also occasionally guided in the right direction as before. The smell of the wonderful food was torture, knowing she would not be getting any, she could not even try to sneak a bit as she had no control of her arms. Before serving the meal she had to remove the sleeves and she tried to sneak a spare morsel from a pan but her collar tightened, even if she could get it to her mouth she could not swallow it.

 

By now her Master had returned, slightly the worse for drink, and 37 served them in a grand dinning room, one at each end of a long table. There was lots of mincing from one end of the table to the other and back and forward to the kitchen and the dumb waiter. At least the Fergusons were happy with their meal but she was way beyond being worn out by the time she had cleared away and washed up. After bringing in the washing from the clothes line and some more fetching and carrying she was told she could go to bed early as it was her first day. "You can be a bitch tomorrow" her Master said laughing. 37 had no idea what was meant, or why her Master thought it funny. She gave a long low curtsey and retired to the kitchen and had to lay the fire in the range ready for the morning. She was drained, flushed and watered, still no food. She was asked to type her thoughts on how her service to her owners could be improved. She had been too busy to think on the matter at all but suggested the well handle be lubricated, this was deemed irrelevant and she was told to sign a declaration that she had failed to think of anything suitable and accepting an extra ten seconds agony. Why did they need her signature she wondered, this was suspicious, she read the declaration but it had no hidden meaning and when her silence/obedience collar tightened she had no choice so signed it before going terrified to her 'bed'. The 'agony' seemed interminable, how could any human bear it she wondered before passing out from the pain. The 'agony' was postponed until she regained consciousness. In all she passed out five times before her sentence of 86 seconds was completed. Despite her continuing hunger she dropped off to sleep almost immediately after the 'agony' ceased. She awoke three times with nightmares before realising that they were not nightmares, but memories of what had happened that day. The thought that there were only two days to go helped her get back to sleep.

 

Sunday.

 

37 was awoken in the customary way and within seconds she was on her way to the hall where she was to complete the cleaning of the chandelier. This took some time and she had to polish the metalwork then replace any of the small clear electric bulbs which failed to light. No energy efficient bulbs as a diffused light source does not get split into a rainbow in as nice a way as a near-point light source. Winding the heavy chandelier upwards with such a small handle needed a lot of effort for a long period. She had to mop the floor next, much easier than scrubbing she thought and wondered why it had to be scrubbed yesterday. She went to the kitchen and was directed to take an anonymous aerosol can (which had been over-painted black) and spray herself with it, principally her bottom. It smelled more like urine than deodorant. This was getting even weirder she thought. Next was her trip to the well for water. It was a little later today, maybe thats why she was let off scrubbing she wondered. She was about a minute into the long walk to the well when she heard the barking of dogs. She turned and saw three big guard dogs, the kind she'd seen on TV court reports being put down for ripping off people's faces and limbs and even killing children. If she could have she would have wet herself but her penis had a tube up it preventing this. There was no fence between her and them, her one hope was that they were tethered, she could not run away, her shoes limited her stride but even with a full male stride she would not have been able to outrun them. A slightly younger more athletic dog reached her first and jumped up on her back, its weight pushed her forward but her feet could not move fast enough to keep her centre of gravity over her feet. She fell forward with the dog on top of her. She put out her hands to save her head from hitting the ground. The other two dogs caught up and started sniffing the gap between her bottom and the first dog. Her skirt rode up as the first dog lunged forward and she felt his penis slap against her buttock before he centred his body. These were big dogs, probably weighed as much as she did. With his weight on her back there was no way she could get up so she tried crawling forward down the path. The dog on top growled and with that her obedience collar closed and she had to stop struggling. He was top dog she thought, 'I'm subservient to a dog now, how far I've come down the pecking order that I'm below a dog!' The dogs also had a strict pecking order as the dogs took it in turn to hump her backside, just like a smaller dog would hump a leg. The first one even cocked his leg on her and left his own scent over the scent from the aerosol can which was extracted from canine urine from a female in heat. 'I never agreed to this' she thought 'Hard work, pain and humiliation I expected but this goes way beyond that, thank god for the chastity belt or I would have been buggered. So now I know what my sadistic Master was laughing about last night, I am a bitch now!' The third dog was the biggest, and so was his dick which he tried in vain to get it into her and his lunging and biting hurt her. When the pack of dogs finished, tears were running down her cheeks. She was forced to stand up and continue to the well.

 

She was more wary of falling down the well shaft this time and her hand bled slightly less but otherwise things went the same as the day before. 'I will be released in less than two days, keep thinking that or I'll go mad' she thought. On the return trip she kept her eyes firmly on the ground to avoid looking at the house like the day before, she noticed a small puddle of dog semen, stepped around it and started crying again as she was reminded of the now cold semen still stuck on her legs where it had trickled down her.

 

When she got back to the kitchen she tipped both the buckets, more like barrels actually, into the water butt and was directed to fetch another two big bucketfuls. That's the doctor's bath she thought. This trip was uneventful but she was exhausted and would have given her right arm for some food as she had not eaten for 42 hours. She prepared her owner's breakfasts which made her feel even more hungry. 37 again ran a bath for her Mistress, helped her wash herself and then dress her and she went out.

 

The Master called her into the bedroom where he was sitting on the edge of the bed wearing a dressing gown. He handed her a device with four short chains with four handcuffs on the ends. He put a device in each side of her mouth between her back teeth which forced her mouth to stay ajar. He got her to face away from him, kneel down and attach two of the cuffs to her ankles and two to her wrists behind her back. He forced her into an unnatural position with her neck bent right back and her back arched. In other words she leant over backwards to please him. He put his penis between her lips and made her lick it and suck and then he pulled it out and got her to lick and slightly squeeze his testicles and then back to his penis in her mouth as it became more erect and longer and he pulled it in and out, partly by pulling her head up and down by pulling on her ears and partly by pressing her eyes and partly by moving himself. She had to try to swallow his penis which seemed impossible to her. After a bit of practice she might have become able to do it but he gave her no time, he thrust into her throat and she gagged and vomited. He allowed her to sit more upright and vomit it onto the her apron. She was already hungry so there was very little but gastric acid in her stomach. They repeated this a couple of times until her stomach was truly empty and she became used to the sensation and he managed to get his penis in as far as he wanted to and ejaculated. Some semen went into her windpipe and she coughed and managed to swallow the rest. He released her head and she continued coughing for some time, interrupted by her collar which closed her throat every time she coughed until she learned to cough silently.

 

He left her kneeling there for about an hour whilst he shaved and read his newspaper and had a drink or two. Her knees were killing her, then he came back and did it all again. She gagged a lot less this time and did not vomit. Then he released her cuffs and tooth blocks and got her to make him coffee, make the bed, clean up the mess in the bedroom so his wife would not know, then change and wash her uniform. He came downstairs and settled into a comfortable arm chair and got her to turn on the television and press the right buttons to select a particular sports channel. Then she was allowed to return to normal duties, which started with having her bladder emptied and an enema and watered. She had to collect the left overs from the guard dog's dishes and put it in a liquidiser and turn it into puree which she was then allowed to eat. At last some food, even if it was anonymous meat and dog mixer which the dogs had already rejected. Not that there was enough, she was still hungry but it was better than nothing and she was glad her Master and Mistress allowed it and that the dogs had left some for her.

 

Her control computer put her to work taking down all the curtains from the bedrooms at the back of the house and washing them. There was quite a pile and and it would take many batches with the washing machine to clean them all. Next she had to take a step ladder and a feather duster and clean every ceiling in the bedrooms and their en suite bathrooms. Whenever the washing machine finished she had to go down to the kitchen and put the next batch in and take the wet curtains out to the garden to dry. Up and down the stairs and up and down the step ladder, it was exhausting. The bedroom ceilings were about fourteen feet up, she could reach up to about six and a half feet and the duster was another two feet but she had to climb about six feet up to the platform of the steps every time and could only reach a circle of ceiling about four feet in diameter so had to get down and re-position the steps all the time. As if that wasn't enough, often she had to push the furniture out of the way to make space for the steps. Looking up was also making her neck ache and the spikes on the ribbon at the back of her neck were constantly pricking her.

 

She had to break off to make the Master and Mistress their lunch. After that she had to fetch more water from the well because the washing machine had used up a lot of water. The Mistress was in the garden when 37 came  struggling up the hill loaded down with water buckets and yoke, she said something unexpected "You look quite the part of the water carrier, one of the reasons I chose you was because your star sign is Aquarius, the water carrier". 37 could not really understand in what way the doctor had made a choice. A choice between who? Could she really have more than one patient with a fantasy of being a maid? There was no way of asking and there would be punishment if 37 did not go as fast as possible. After pouring the water into the butt it was back to work on spring cleaning the back bedrooms.

 

Before long she had to break off again and start preparations for the big Sunday roast dinner. It was apparently Mr Ferguson's favourite, roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. She once more donned the remote control sleeves and put the beef into the oven and prepared about a dozen different vegetables, then started making some of them into a soup and lightly boiled the potatoes, then put them in goose fat and put them in to roast. Then she got started on making a proper apple and blackberry pie with pastry above and below so that the fruit juices could soak into the lower pastry. It just so happened this was 37's favourite and the knowledge she would not be getting any upset her further. Next was some sort of seafood which 37 could not even identify but her sleeves dealt with in the appropriate way with great expertise. Then came the Yorkshire pudding made in a big baking tray so it could rise four or five inches up the sides. In all she prepared five courses.

 

When she served the main course she had to take the beef up to the living room as it was, along with a carving set. Whilst she stood by and watched, Mr Ferguson sharpened the knife with the butchers steel and carved the joint. She was perfectly capable of doing it even without the sleeves but it was not a maid's place to do so, it was a man's job, one more tiny humiliation she thought. There was a lot of meat left over but she had to give it all to the dogs. They eat every bit of lean and fat and broke up the bones to get the marrow. Several times during the meal she salivated at the wonderful smells and felt desperately hungry, but she was not even allowed the left over Yorkshire pudding or apple and blackberry pie which she had to put in the kitchen waste bin. Later when she emptied the vacuum cleaner contents on top of it, and the smell still made her hungry. "Mouth corners closer" shouted a synthesised voice in her ear, she had let her mouth shape slip but immediately resumed the 'o' shape she had to maintain all the time she was awake. This and the scratches from the cloth of her uniform and the chafing of her bonds were constant reminders of her place at the bottom of the domestic hierarchy, below even the dogs and the domestic computer to which she was attached by radio as a peripheral.

 

After washing up (by hand) she did some more cleaning of the bedroom ceilings before being told the Fergusons were going to go to bed early to make love and she was ordered to go into a part of the garden they called the wilderness and cut ten stinging nettles and two thistles, but a foot from the ground so as not to kill the plants, come back, lock the kitchen door and come to the master bedroom. She was not given gloves or anything to cut them with, so had to break them off with her bare hands. When she returned the Master was wearing pyjamas and thick suede gauntlets. He got her to take off all her clothes but keep on her bonds, shoes and stockings. He measured 37's neck and selected three lengths of cheese wire, each one had a loop at both its ends. One was almost half her neck's circumference and went round the back of her neck. The next was twice that length and went across her throat and he threaded it through the other one's loops. He pulled its ends together at her throat with special pliers, biting slightly into her flesh and attached its two loops to another length with a small padlock. He removed the pliers and padlocked the other end to a leather strap around his own wrist. He said she could resist as much as she was able while tethered but not fight back or speak or look at his face or spit. She was to think of herself as Pricess Leia and he was Jabba the Hutt but unlike chain she could not get hold of cheese wire to strangle him, it would cut her hands to shreds. She was allowed to examine her noose and soon found it was too tight to get her fingers between it and her neck. As the Mistress looked on he pulled her around the room as fast as her shoes would allow and she found she had to try to keep up, even if her feet were painfully stabbed, or her tether would make the cheese wire noose cut into her neck ultra painfully. He would pull her towards him while holding out the bunch of plants and she had no option but to brush against them. She squirmed to get out of the way as he wiped the plants across bare parts of her body. He held out the plants and gave her enough slack to back away and then advanced while using the tether to stop her moving. Sometimes she would move to the side and he would pull her back. It was a bit like a bullfighter and a bull. This sadism gradually made the Master's penis poke out of his pyjama flies and when it became sufficiently hard he said "Enough starters, now for the main course." He took his wife and made passionate love to her. 37 was still tethered to his wrist and had to wait looking at the floor suffering much pain and with pimples of stings all over her which were still injecting poison making her feel numb and painful at the same time. After a short nap, the Master released his wrist strap and she had to fetch a single malt and water for the Master and a gin and tonic for the Mistress. The Mistress said "You've had your starters and mains, now I'll have my desert." She locked the leather strap and tether to her own wrist and took a double ended electric dildo out of the bedside cabinet drawer and put one end in 37's mouth, turned it on and guided the other end and 37's head to her vagina. The Master went back to sleep and 37 had to pleasure the doctor for an hour or so, giving her many orgasms, also using 37's tongue and fingers. The Mistress never pulled on her noose or used the plants but the possibility was more than enough to keep 37 in line.

 

When the doctor was satiated she released 37 and told her to get dressed, dispose of the plants, take the Master's shoes to the kitchen, do another two hours spring cleaning and then do her toilet, water, finish any food the dogs did not want and go to bed. She had to sign for not inventing any new ideas and received just the basic ten seconds agony, which is still too much but better than before. After the agony 37 reflected that today she had given every living thing in the house an orgasm but not had one for herself, but then she was a machine wasn't she. Only one more day of domestic robotry.

 

 

Monday.

 

37 was woken by cramp and suffocation after about three hours sleep. She polished the Master's shoes like mirrors. She scrubbed the games room, the music room and kitchen floors. She had to spray herself for the dog's pleasure and fetched water from the well, being stopped on the way by the dogs for their daily treat. She prepared and served breakfast and warmed the shower for the Master as well as running a bath for the Mistress. She had to help them clean their backs and get dressed. As it was a holiday the Master did not want his polished shoes, polishing them was just routine for every weekday. This was strange but she could not question why there was a routine for weekdays when this was the first weekday she had worked for them and it was an exception.

 

37 was told there would be two guests for dinner tonight, Lord and Lady Mountcreek, who's family had owned the house before gambling and death duties had forced its sale. The doctor showed 37 an ornate silver tag engraved with four letters "dodo". The edge was chased with a pattern like you would see on port and sherry decanter name plates. There were eight holes in it. She also had barbed nails she said were made of platinum and a nail gun they fitted into. "Now hold still, this will hurt but if you move and make me hit one of your ribs it will hurt a lot more." said the doctor as she lined up the name tag on the bare part of 37's chest under her chin and took the nail gun and lined it up with the holes and the gap between the ribs. 37 was petrified. BANG the first nail went in and 37 could not believe this was happening the day before she was due to be released. BANG, if it was not for her comparing the pain with the agony she suffered every night she would not have been able to stand still while the doctor did this. BANG, this nail went below the rib which already had a nail above it. BANG, now all the corners were affixed. BANG, the four holes near the middle of the tag just missed her sternum. BANG the other side of her breast bone. BANG, now one rib down. BANG and all eight nails were in place. There was a little blood to mop up but surprisingly little, the nails were all the way home and the worst of the pain was over.

 

"There you are, that wasn't too bad was it. While we have guests you will answer to the word on your chest however it is pronounced. Some say doh doh like two musical notes or two female deer or I prefer to think of you as dead as a dodo. Some say doo-doo like you are a pile of faeces, the Master prefers that. It is not your name which is why it is not capitalised. It is just a word to trigger your control computer to pass commands on to you. If our guests say 'dodo would you please go and get me a glass of champagne' you will hear just 'get me a glass of champagne'. If they say 'Thank you dodo' you will hear nothing. The Master says it a commissioning plate just like every other piece of electrical equipment has a commissioning plate, yours just does not have your voltage and wattage on it. Our guests will speculate if you are human or a machine with a very convincing simulated skin, we will not tell them, we might even lie. Your bonds are all quite well hidden, more like jewellery to the casual observer anyway and if anyone sees an electrical cable, like maybe the one at you neck it will make them believe even more that you are a machine. The plate seemingly riveted to your chest is the starting point for their speculation and hopefully they will treat you like a machine.

 

The Fergusons went out together and said they would not be back until dinner tonight. 37 fed the dogs with tinned meat then toileted and watered herself. When the dogs had finished she eat the little they had left. With limited food intake and lots of hard work she was losing weight alarming fast but her bonds, especially her corset kept contracting to take up the slightest slack. She washed up the breakfast things, washed the soiled sheets and the dirty clothes then cleaned, vacuumed and tidied the master bedroom. She finished the seven rear bedroom ceilings and started dusting the walls. By mid afternoon she had finished them and she re-hanged the curtains and started dusting the furniture and washing all the bed linen. She had to make another two trips to the well.

 

She had to break off to start the dinner. The main course was lobster, nothing but the best for the Fergusons and their guests. Tonight there were seven courses. Preparing seven courses for four people took a lot of time and she was very nearly late. She prepared drinks for them all. After the Mountcreeks left she got the Master and Mistress more drinks and had to stand by as they had a long conversation, none of which she could hear because of white noise being played into her ears. Even if she could lip read she was not allowed to look at their faces. She topped up their glasses and they watched a film on the TV whilst she washed up and then carried on cleaning the bedrooms. She got them supper, helped them change for bed and took the Master's office shoes for polishing, even though he had not worn them. She was toileted, fed and watered.

 

37 worked well into the night before she finished the bedroom furniture. She again could not think of anything to improve her service to her Master and Mistress and had to sign to accept another ten seconds agony. She went to bed and suffered terrible agony. Before dropping off to sleep she wondered why she had not been released yet, it was now over 72 hours she had been in service. She supposed the contract was for three full calendar days so she would be released in the morning. Only zero days to go she thought.

 

 

Continued in part 2.

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