Richard said, “Sandra we really need to speak about all this.”
Sandra just stared at him.
Richard corrected himself and said, “Mistress Sandra, we really need to speak about this.”
Sandra glared and said, “You’re giving me orders!?”
Richard, eyes lowered, quickly said, “Uh, no. Certainly not. Mistress Sandra. May we please speak about this?”
Sandra smiled at him. “Of course. What would you like to know?”
Richard breathed in deeply and said, “Where is this all going? How many people are going to know about our FLR relationship now? It was just you. Then Master James. Then Amanda, and Irene at the nail salon. And now Beau. And what was that talk about ‘breaking me in’? We’re married, after all, Sandra, uh Mistress Sandra.” He looked at her pleadingly.
Sandra sat for a few moments and collected her thoughts and said, “Richard. You’ve been an excellent FLR husband. At the time it was something we both wanted. Now I want you to be my maid. I thought I made that clear. You’ll have time to be just-Richard. For chores and errands and household duties. And, of course, your work as an editor. But when you’re my maid, you’ll be just that. A gurly maid. You will be ‘Robin.’ And these are the steps I’m taking. You ought to be grateful that I’m putting in so much thought and taking such time and effort in this aspect of our life!”
Richard looked up and said, “Mistress Sandra. It’s just so much so fast.”
“Yes, I know. But we don’t have much time before James returns from his trip. I want everything ready by then. It’s to your benefit too, Richard. First, if I tell him I’m training you to be my maid, you’ll have more time with me. In the morning getting me dressed and at night getting me ready for bed. That’s in addition to orally servicing me and cleaning me out. As my maid you get to touch me more than you’ve been allowed for a long time. You like touching me, don’t you, Richard? And when James isn’t at the apartment you get to sleep next to me. You won’t have to eat urine-soaked scraps anymore. I’m going to put you on a special regimen of diet and exercise. All to suit me. But you’ll be healthier. And happier. I know I’ll be.”
“Between being my maid and your work, James won’t have much time to order you around. Or put you through those training exercises of his. Would you rather serve me or balance his cock on your nose? Yes, he told me about that.”
“You’ll still have to obey him, of course. But life will be immeasurably better. For me and you. I’ll also see what I can arrange about a weekly release for you. I believe James is home the day of your next-scheduled release. You don’t want him to come home and find something to delay that another two weeks, do you? That would make it. . . let me see, 12, 13 weeks without a release? You must be ready to explode.”
Richard sat quietly and absorbed everything his wife said and silently shook his head. She was right about Master James easing up on him. And within his role as Sandra’s maid could have more physical contact with her. A weekly release seemed like a dream. Maybe there would come a time when she would grant him the privilege of making love to her again.
He looked over and said, “What about someone breaking me in? Master James keeps making comments about knowing people who would want to use me. Use me how?”
Sandra laughed and said, “That’s just a distant thought. In my and Master James’ heads. Nothing to worry about, at least not now. Do your job and there’ll be no need.” But she thought it would be amusing to expand their ménage. Their circle of friends did, indeed, extend deeply into the kinky.
“And you’ll get to bathe me more often,” Sandra said. “You like bathing me, don’t you Richard? Touching my breasts and ass and between my legs?”
Richard nodded his head, remembered when he could sexually and whispered, “Yes, Mistress Sandra. I do.”
The cab stopped, he paid the driver and they got out. They walked West about half a block and stopped in front of a double-wide, two windowed shop, with the name ‘Esclavage’ printed at the bottom of the window in small, red letters.
“I’m only looking for a few specific items to complete your. . . what would I call it. . . transformation,” said Sandra. “Open the door and let’s move this along. It will be fun, you’ll see.”
They went inside to a large area filled with leather and bondage equipment and domination accoutrements. A youngish woman with shocking blue hair and an innumerable number of piercings said, “Hi, I’m Jan. What can I do for you today?
“Yes,” said Sandra, “I’m looking for some shoes for my husband today. High heeled shoes. Something in black.”
“We’ve got a large selection back here,” Jan said, leading the way to a back corner of the store.
The area was about twelve feet by fifteen feed and looked, for all intents and purposes to be a shoe store. That, however, was where the similarity stopped. Exhibited on the shelves were a selection of shoes that had heels 2 inches high and some that looked to be 9 inches high. They laced, snapped and, clipped closed. There were high heeled boots. Ankle high and thigh high. They were in black, pink, fire engine red, azure, white, and tan. They were made of leather, latex and plastic. One pair seemed constructed entirely of metal pins and another of feathers. Some pairs were chained together.
Jan turned to Sandra and asked, “What size were you looking for?”
Sandra looked the question to Richard. He said, “Uh, normally I’m a 9 ½ .”
“Let me see your feet,” Jan directed Richard.
Richard slipped off his loafers, and put one foot out. The saleslady could see he was wearing stockings and that his toenails were painted pink.
“Nice pedicure,” she said, winking at Sandra.
Jan turned back to the shelves and took down a box. “Here,” she said, “Try these on.”
Richard sat down and opened the box. They contained a pair of black pumps with a two-inch heel. Richard hesitated, then put on one shoe and then the other.
Sandra said, “Well, stand up. Let’s see what they look like. Walk. Then stop and point your toe.”
Richard stood up a little wobblily, and took a few tentative steps. Then pointed one foot, then the other, like a ballet dancer.
Sandra watched and turned to the salesclerk and said, “I was thinking of something with a higher heel. Like these,” motioning to her Louboutins.
“We have that. But I don’t think you’ll want them. Not, at least, if this is his first pair of high heels,” Jan added. “If you haven’t had him wear heels before, it’s pretty sure that with a four-inch heel he’s going to break his ankle the first day you put them on him.”
Richard stood there feeling more and more like a nonentity, the way they talked about him.
“What would you suggest?” asked Sandra.
Jan walked a around and piled up about nine boxes on the chair Richard had been sitting in.
“Those should do for a beginner. I added some three-inch heels to the mix. You’ll want to have him learn to walk naturally in the two-inch shoes and then gradually increase the height,” she said, “Take your time, I’ll be up front,” and walked back to the front counter.