Story: Window Shopping. Chapters 1-3.

by Jackie J

Chapter 1

Things were going well I had settled into my new apartment, following my promotion and I had eventually got over the breakdown of my relationship with Jenny. Jenny wasn’t happy but it just wasn’t working out, I miss her of course I do but it was for the best.

We had been together on and off since college days and following our breakup Jenny went back to her parents’ place in the country. We had spent many happy days at her parent’s estate but that was over two years ago now and I had, as they say, moved on, hadn’t I? Of course not, a day did not pass that I did not think of her and I still wonder if it was the same for Jenny. Jenny had become increasingly domineering, obsessive perhaps, sure I was the passive one and I didn’t mind that, Jenny was so tender with me between the sheets but when it came to all or nothing I could not commit, I just couldn’t.

But for the burst water main at the junction with cross street I would not be walking down peters lane but it was now the quickest way to the tube. Strange, but only a hundred yards or so from my apartment, I had never walked down this street before. Various independent stores on either side with apartments above, quite a retail oasis hidden behind the glass and chrome fronted major outlets of cross street.

My eyes were drawn to one particular double fronted store and dodging the traffic, which was also using peters lane for a diversion, I crossed the road to take a closer look. Smiling at the display my mind drifted back to happy times at Jenny’s parent’s estate. My smile turned to a giggle looking at the mannequins remembering Jenny’s “Games”.

My thoughts were broken by a familiar voice behind me.

“Looking for a career change Miss Simons?”

Turning I laughed, it was Jackie one of the girls from my team.

“No not really Jackie, come I will walk to the tube with you.”

Inquisitive as she was I wouldn’t share my particular fascination with that store, Jackson and Thompsons, why would I and certainly not with a junior from my team.

The water company repaired the leak and but for the darker patch of tarmac at the junction of cross street and peters lane no one would know of the resulting chaos for the three days it took them to make the repair. 

Perhaps if I had returned to my normal route to the tube life would have gone on much as it was, a management position at the law firm Barker and Leach, a comfortable apartment and enough money for my needs and a little bit more. But I didn’t, peters lane, although taking a good ten minutes out of my way was now my chosen path. Why? Jackson and Thompsons that’s why, sure I would pretend to look at all the store displays on the lane but there was only one that I now needed to see.

Sometimes I would just glance, sometimes I would stare, especially if new items had been added to the display and the collection of photographs I had surreptitiously taken was growing.

Did I think my behavior and fascination with this store seemed odd, no, but it should have done of course? I should have cursed Jenny for having planted this long-forgotten seed into my subconscious, a seed that was now germinating fertilized by my vivid imagination. On the contrary I wasn’t cursing Jenny, in the privacy of my apartment I was reliving our times at her parent’s estate, I had to make contact with her before what was becoming an obsession drove me to madness.

A text, yes, a text just to say hi. She probably wouldn’t even reply, why should she, it was me that broke it all off, she will surely be with someone else now, won’t she? I wasn’t though? A few one-night stands but that’s all, maybe, just maybe it was the same for her, I had to do it.

Longheaton manor stood in its own grounds in the Norfolk countryside quite a distance from London and since the breakup of her relationship with Paula Simons, soon followed by the death of her parents in a tragic road accident, Jenny Downbridge, having recovered from a nervous breakdown, had lived a reclusive life in the care of her housekeeper, Mrs. Burns.

Jenny didn’t totally blame Paula for the turn of events but if her parents had not been returning from their holiday home in Scotland to comfort her, following her break up with her longtime lover Paula, perhaps things would have been different. They say time heals but it doesn’t, does it?

Mrs. Burns handed Jenny her phone.

“This thing keeps pinging Miss Jenny, perhaps you should take a look.”

Jenny took the phone and disinterestedly opened her messages then stared at the text a shiver running through her.

Mrs. Burns looked concerned.

“Jenny, are you alright dear you look like you have seen a ghost, what is it?

Jenny closed the phone and clutched it to her.

“Erm nothing, nothing one of those stupid joke things you get sent, it just shocked me that’s all?”

Mrs. Burns left the room to prepare lunch and Jenny reopened her messages why? Why now after all this time not a word, now this?

Two weeks and I had heard nothing back from Jenny and presumed I was a closed book. Back to my normal route to the tube I sometimes went via peters lane but that flush of excitement was fading and it was probably for the best. I was further distracted being very busy at the office working on a complex corporate case with the ambitious Jackie being a great help. Jackie was probably the best of my team and she would surely be up for a promotion soon and I would certainly miss her. I often wondered whether she coveted my position.

A one-word text to my phone made me squirm, just one word and it was from Jenny, “WHY”? I had sent my text over two weeks ago; it was brief just asking if she wanted to get in touch but now she had answered, it was a start. That evening after work I made a point of taking the long way back to my apartment via peters lane and yes, I stopped and gazed at the display in the Jackson and Thompson store window. All those feeling I had felt the first time I saw the store display flooded back. What to do?

Back at my apartment I scanned the pictures I had taken deleting many but saving the best and having chosen one, without any words, pressed send. Jenny would either know or not know its significance. Something inside me wanted her to not see the significance but something stronger did.

That weekend I was all of a dither Jenny had replied again a simple one-word text, “maybe”, what should I do now? Everything has consequences of course it does and I wrestled with all the, what if’s and maybe’s but I had to go through with this I just had too I couldn’t help myself.

Giggling to myself in the bath tub that evening with a glass of wine and the sweet scent of the candles that flickered in the half light I pondered my response. Would it be the same, could it be the same? Jenny was always the one in control, was I willing to place myself in that position again? Would I be strong enough to break away like I had before or was I now regretting that I ever did? It would be different of course it would, it had to be, it had been two years and a lot had changed for me and surely much would have changed for Jenny. What if Jenny was resentful what would she do with me then? Just the thought of Jenny having control of me again was making me aroused and wanting.

Sunday morning after a restless night full of imaginings I sent my reply. “Your terms, let me know”.

Perhaps I checked my phone a little more than normal the following week but it was Thursday and nothing from Jenny, I again suspected she had gone cold on the idea, how wrong could I be and the text I received that evening told me just how wrong.

An email now, addressed from Jenny and, having taken the nude selfie I attached the posed picture, captioned as requested and emailed it to the address given.  Perhaps it was Jenny’s way of finding out if I had kept her collar, which of course I had. It did not feel demeaning, in truth it felt quite liberating perhaps I had been suppressing my true feelings for too long. I was her slut and I felt no shame in declaring that when I captioned the picture of myself with her collar around my neck, the same collar I had sworn that I would never wear again.

A very formal and detailed email with an attachment arrived in my inbox that same evening. I chuckled it was Jenny’s way, the formality serving to heighten my expectations, she would know that.

At first, I laughed at the attachment but I had agreed it would be on Jenny’s terms and started to complete the application form. Name, address, date of birth, gender, current position, employer and salary, qualifications etc., when I read back over the form, before emailing it back, I must say I was quite impressed. Perhaps I had got a little carried away; I had even given a mention to the leading light in my department Jacqueline Burns. 

Saturday morning I entered the Jackson and Thompson store with mixed feelings of trepidation and excitement. The smart lady behind the counter, who I had seen many times through the glass, smiled and I spoke nervously.

“Paula Simons here at the instruction of Miss Jenny Downbridge.”

The Lady’s smile turned to a smirk.

“Yes Paula, our pretty window shopper, we have been expecting you, young lady, go through to the back, take your things off, the cubicle on the left at the end of the passage Martha will attend to you.”

Walking down the passageway between the rails of apparel their distinctive odor filled my senses like an aphrodisiac drowning out my expensive perfume.  Was my experience at the store humiliating? Of course, it was, excruciatingly so, it was meant to be, Jenny would have had it no other way.

Measured, fitted and then photographed in each of the outfits the selected ensembles picked for me were neatly packed. Was I bushing, probably, and with good reason? The embarrassment of the damp crotch in my panties displayed to that woman whilst I was dressed and undressed in Jenny’s choices, my Mistresses choices, as Martha took pleasure in reminding me.

There was nothing to pay, that had been taken care of.

“These will be sent to your Mistress, this package you are to take with you.”

The smaller of the packages in hand I left the store for my next call. Of all the things that Jenny had detailed in her email this was the one I was unsure of, I had never used this salon before. 

The apprentice, given her instructions by the snooty manageress, was more nervous than me constantly chattering whilst she snipped away, but in truth, if I had wanted the short bob style I had been given, I am sure I would have been quite pleased with her results.  Jenny always liked me with short hair, but jet black? I had never been this colour before.

Again nothing to pay all had been taken care of by “My Mistress” the smirking manageress making sure she spoke loud enough for the salon to hear when she informed me.

No, no, I walk quickly away from the salon my heart pounding, Jackie, no, no, no, why would she be here? No, no please, sat in the reception area of the salon, smirking and looking directly at me, the girl from my team at work, Jacqueline Burns.

Back in my apartment I dropped the package I had brought back with my on the floor and poured a healthy wine. Shit, shit shag piss. The reality, but more importantly the consequences, of what I was doing left me staring blankly into space breathing heavy.

When the doorbell rang my mind was like mush, who could it possibly be? Kicking the package to the side of the room I peered through the spy hole in the door. The grinning face of Jackie Burns greeted me. Jackie must have followed me from the salon, she must have?  Taking a deep breath, I opened the door.

Chapter 2

Opening the door, I smiled nervously, why was she here?

A purse in her hand Jackie giggled.

“You were in a rush Miss Simons, you left this in the salon may I come in?”

All the pent-up anxiety drained from me and my smile was more genuine looking at the purse, it was definitely mine. Perhaps with not having to pay, clutching the parcel from the store and then seeing Jackie in the salon and wishing to make a quick exit, I must have left it on the reception desk at the salon in my panic to leave, I just couldn’t remember? Little knowing the crafty bitch had lifted it from my bag not at the salon but whilst I was being pleasantly humiliated in the Jackson and Thompson store, Jackie had been following my steps all morning.

“Sure, sure come in thank you Jackie it’s not like me to leave things behind like that I don’t know what I was thinking, would you like a drink or something, take a seat?”

Jackie entered and closed the door behind her and smiled handing me my purse.

I stood back whilst Jackie confidently strode past me, into my apartment and flopped down on my sofa.

“A coffee then please if I may, a lovely place you have here Miss Simons I could only dream of having a place like this, I like your new hairstyle by the way, not that I didn’t like it how it was before, very short though now and black, quite a change, what inspired that?”

I just stared at Jackie, what could I say that an old friend was preparing me for her maid games?

“Erm, erm well I just fancied something different you know how it is “

Jackie smiled.

“Yes, I know exactly how it is Miss Simons, exactly how it is.”

In the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil I wondered if she had heard the salon manager saying that my cut and color had been paid for by a mistress. She must have, everyone in the salon would have heard.

I handed Jackie her mug of coffee and sat on the chair opposite settling my own mug on a coaster on the coffee table.

Jackie’s smile was not a smile of amusement, more of a grin, it was a smile that pervaded a knowledge that I was unaware she had.

“Are you not curious to know why I was at “Cuts and Curls” today Miss Simons, or should I call you Paula?”

I had thought it just a coincidence, why did she just call me Paula? She never called me by my name always Miss Simons. 

 “No, I just presumed it was a salon that you must use, it was my first time there and what’s with this Paula business?”

Jackie put down her cup leaned forward and looked me in the eye a wicked smile growing across her face.

“Remember after the problems at the end of last quarter, the short accounts being misplaced, you agreed to set your outbox to blind copy me all your emails?

I stared at Jackie frozen in disbelieve, the emails I had sent to Jenny, she had seen copies of them? How could I have been so stupid?

“You take a good picture Paula and I was pleased to read that I got a mention in your job application, this Jenny, your mistress, must be quite a woman”

I sat back speechless my mind in turmoil what was I going to do, more importantly what was Jackie going to do?

I was in panic and stuttered.

 “Jackie, look, I don’t know what you are thinking but all that is a private matter between a friend and myself, none of your business really is it, best you forget all about it.”

Jackie sat back and laughed.

“Forget about it why I am thinking of having that picture for my screen saver.”

“Private, yes of course and I think you would like to have it remain that way, wouldn’t you? So, unless you want me to share what I know you will do just as I say and I definitely don’t think you are in a position to dictate terms to me Paula. Now you collected a parcel from the work wear store on Peters lane this morning didn’t you, I saw you leave with it, where is it?”

Jackie was right she was in charge not me, she could ruin me and I sheepishly pointed to the back wall by the table.

“Over there, please Jackie I don’t know what you are thinking but …”

Jackie cut me off mid-sentence.

“Shut up, go and fetch the package I am sure you are no less curious than I to see what your Mistress wants to see you photographed in with you new hairstyle.”

I gulped and brought the package placing it on the coffee table in front of Jackie.

“Well Paula open it lets see what we have.”

I slowly opened up the parcel and spread the contents out onto the table.

Jackie fondled and handled the various items and laughed.

“Well let’s get these on, shall we?

With weak eyes I looked at a smirking Jackie I couldn’t have the senior managers at the chambers seeing the emails and photographs I couldn’t and pleaded with Jackie.

“Please Jackie, what do you want a salary increase, a promotion I can arrange that just please don’t make me do this, delete those emails, pretend you never saw them.”

Jackie’s stern expression told me she was going to make me go through with this and forget nothing.

“Paula, begging does not suit you now like I said if you want me to keep your secrets then you will do just what I say, now strip and get these on.”

I felt stupid, ashamed but I had no choice and gathering the clothing, clutching them to me, I took my first steps towards the bedroom.

“No Paula, here you can dress here in front of me, there’s a good girl.”

Feeling weak, vulnerable and cheap but the worst feeling was that I was becoming aroused with Jackie having such control over me! What could I do the little minx could ruin me.

Much to her amusement I blushed bright red stripping in front of the smiling Jackie but my arousal was growing being made to strip naked in front of my subordinate.  The underwear was plain and it was many years since I had worn white knee socks, a cheap full slip slated below the nylon overall, which I buttoned to a high collar. Stepping into the canvas flats I stood in front of a smirking Jackie.

Jackie stood from the Sofa, without my heels she was a good four inches taller than me.

“Perfect, now your Mistress wants a photograph of you in your cleaner’s smock doesn’t she but before that let’s get that muck removed from you face, go and get some wipes and cleanser, and whilst you are there bring your polish remover, nail clippers and an emery board.”

My makeup removed I pleaded with Jackie not to do it but she was unmoved and I meekly offered each hand in turn whilst she removed my nail polish, clipped my long manicured nails and then smoothed them short with the nail file. 

Jackie had removed my phone from my bag and with me prepared, told me to stand by the wall hands by my sides which I did, what option had I?

A full-length picture and one of my head and shoulders emailed from my mobile to my laptop Jackie stood over me whilst I emailed them to Jenny. Jenny had wanted pictures of my new hairstyle whilst wearing the cleaner’s overalls she had purchased for me and of course blind copies now sat in Jackie’s inbox.

Jackie stayed the weekend making the most of my luxurious apartment and, keeping me dressed in my overall, had me clean it from top to bottom, this along with cooking and serving her meals. Jackie of course had the use of my bedroom and I slept on the spare room floor. 

Monday morning I was up early and showered, we had clients visiting the chambers for an important meeting and I was reviewing my papers when Jackie came into the lounge from her bedroom, my bedroom? 

“Jackie, no please you can’t, please that’s my best Dior suit, those heels cost a fortune and they are certainly not for work.”

Jackie just smirked.

“Leave those files and go and prepare my breakfast, GIRL.”

Yes girl, that is how she was referring to me now, not Miss Simons, not Paula, but just girl.

 “But, but I need to read up on these, I have a meeting this morning with Philip Hardcastle and his team from Hampson’s, you know all about it, we did all the ground work together last week.”

Jackie took the files from me and smiled.

“No, you did have a meeting but your deputy will be covering for you today. Your place is here, now get your overall on and prepare my breakfast. I have already sent an email from your lap top explaining that you will not be in work today and that Jacqueline Burns will be covering for you, now get dressed and in that kitchen. I don’t want to be late.”

Jackie chuckled.

“That is unless you want me to share your emails, I could always pin a picture of you on the notice board, is that what you want?”

The taunt, of the hold she had on me, reminded me that I had no choice. I dressed in my cleaners overall and did her bidding before she left for work, leaving with my files, mobile, lap top and my Louis Vuitton bag slung over her shoulder.

This couldn’t be happening it couldn’t I had to do something but what Jackie had locked the door when she left leaving me a virtual prisoner in my own apartment.

I had been slumbering on the sofa when I heard the key in the door and sat up quickly, at last she was back, I had been brooding most of the day this had to stop, and I had to confront Jackie.

Jackie strolled in dumped her stuff and smiled.

“Good still in your outfit I see, your friend is pleased with the photograph you sent her, she has some more instructions for you.”

I had to be strong but dressed as I was it was not easy Jackie looked so superior, so authoritative wearing my suit and wearing it so well and, shit that’s my jewellery?

“Jackie look this is madness, you cannot keep me locked up in my own apartment dressed like this. It’s got to stop if…”

Two swift slaps across my cheeks took me by surprise and I stared at Jackie stunned and in disbelieve by what she had done.

“Shut the fuck up SLUT, yes Slut I have been looking over your old pictures on your lap top and the short movie, to think I looked up to you, I have a good mind to put the lot on face book.”

“No, no Jackie, no don’t, look I am sorry please I am sorry.”

Jackie smirked.

“That’s better now fix me a drink”

At the bar my hands were shaking pouring Jackie a large glass of wine and brought it to her, now seated on the sofa.

Jackie took a large sip and smiled.

“You will be pleased to know that the meeting this morning with Hampson’s went well, very well in fact. By the way, Janet from HR came to the office quite a surprise for everyone but it seems my boss Miss Simons is taking some extended leave, they got the email this afternoon seems I could be deputising for my boss for quite some time.”

Jackie looked at my drained face and laughed.

“What you didn’t send that email?”

This was too much, what had Jackie done.

“Jackie what have you done, please this needs to stop?”

Jackie drunk more of her wine and sat back laughing.

“Me? No, your friend Jenny suggested it, we had a good chat online seems you have some family issues and will be away in Norfolk of all places. Your Mistress has everything prepared for you, seems your application was successful and don’t worry I will be taking care of things at the office and of course here in this lovely apartment. I saw the building superintendent on the way up and told him that I am moving in, taking over the apartment.

Jackie had been chatting on line with Jenny? This was all getting out of hand I was losing control I had lost control. I had to stop this but how and deep down did I really want to?

Having served dinner to Jackie I was in the Kitchen cleaning and washing the dishes when she entered holding Jenny’s collar.  Ornate in many ways rolled gilded steel only the less than discrete combination lock and asp to the rear proclaiming its true purpose.

“Jenny wasn’t pleased that you were not wearing this in your recent picture come here girl.”

I stared at Jackie.

“Please Jackie not that, there is no need you mustn’t.”

The cold steel to my neck I felt Jackie roll the tumblers of the lock than stand back from me laughing.

Jackie held up the post-it note I had scribbled down the combination on.

“Don’t bother looking for this now get to your room you have a big day tomorrow.”

I did not sleep well and woke more tired than I was when I pulled the spare duvet over me.

The following morning I was wrapped in one of my old coats over my overall.  A coat I should have thrown years ago. The lining ripped a tear to one of the pockets and the camel coloured fabric liberally stained with grime. Bereft of makeup and feeling the chill with my cropped hair although covered with a cheap head scarf, I knew I must have looked a sight looking aged beyond my years being taken to the station by the smartly dressed Miss Burns.

Jackie smirked giving me my tickets and just five pounds for the journey.  No luggage, no mobile, no lap top no purse, nothing. Just the work wear and the old coat and head scarf. I stood in, Jackie chuckled ensuring I left on that train.

“I would say au revoir Miss Simons, but I fear it is good-bye, don’t you?”

I wanted this didn’t I, not just like this of course but heading to be with Jenny to play our game, but this no longer seemed like any game and Jackie what a fool I had been.

Sat with looks of disdain from my fellow passengers I tugged the scruffy coat around me and cursed what I had started wondering what lay ahead for me when I arrived at my destination, Longheaton Manor?

Chapter 3

Another stop and the train emptied and filled in equal proportion. Three large African ladies waddled down the aisle looking at their tickets and seat numbers. They stopped in the aisle staring at me with a thinly veiled look of contempt that they did not try hard to hide.

Dripping in gold and expensively dressed they were obviously not from some poor village without a well that you see on the television aid adverts. These three looked like they may own a country. Large breasts and fat ass’s I hoped they would not be sitting with me, but they did.

I hutched back towards the window making room and they sat one next to me the other two opposite. In a language I could not understand, which was probably a blessing, they were obviously discussing me. I felt a little uncomfortable but, if I was sitting opposite me, the way I was attired, I think I would be asking to be moved.

The train rattled on and after a good few miles the woman directly opposite smiled and I forced a smile in return.

“You maid, cleaner?”

Well it wouldn’t take rocket science to work that out and I nodded.

“Yes”

The women, in their native tongue, then engaged in more chat looking at me before the same woman smiled again.

“You have job.”

The woman next to me pulled back the collar of my coat before I could do anything to stop her and laughed before jabbering to the other two who both laughed with her.

The Lady across leaned forward and spoke in half a whisper.

“What that round neck, collar, you running away?”

If I was uncomfortable when this affluent gold festooned posse surrounded me I was even more so now they were obviously amused that I had an ornate steel collar locked around my neck.

I could go to the toilet or for a coffee in the buffet car anything to get away from these women.

I tried to stand but the lady next to me made it clear I was going nowhere pushing me back into my seat.

“What name you, English?”

With all the dignity I could muster, which to look at me was not much, I tried again to leave my seat.

“Excuse me, yes English can I get past please.”

Perhaps it was my accent not what one would expect from a scruffy middle-aged cleaner, for that’s what I looked like, and they all started laughing mimicking me. No way could I get past the Amazon sat next to me and I turned to look out of the window.

Fat fingers between the collar and my neck twisted me back to face the group who spoke in their native tongue once again whilst I gasped for breath.  With an arrogance wealth brings they were discussing me.

If I would have known exactly what they were saying to each other somehow, I would have fought to reach the communication cord and ripped it from its sockets but I didn’t. Held in this women’s grasp I was helpless and half choked, could neither speak nor understand what they were saying.

“She is younger than she looks her eyes, young eyes, look at her she is poor, running I bet, escaping from a cleaning job London, she has no bag nothing search her pockets we take this one I think.”

The woman next to me pushed me face down on the seat and rummaged through every pocket and slapped the five pound not on the table and all three laughed continuing to speak in whatever language they shared.

“That’s all, I told you she is a runner, no ID, nothing just that, she is for the taking we should take her, white women make good maids good cleaners for us black girls, we will make her our slave.”

The grip on my collar released, I rubbed my neck gasping and the woman across reached over and pulled off my head scarf then passed me the five pounds from the table with a smile.

“You young, how old you.”

It seemed that they had given up on trying to throttle me and obviously not about to rob me. The woman diagonally opposite stood and headed down the aisle passing a guard making his way towards us.

Someone had reported what they had seen and he was coming to investigate I could not risk any confrontation if I made a complaint who was I? No money no ID, dressed like this, a scruffy cleaner, who would they believe me or these three wealthy women, I would probably get arrested.

When the guard leaned down towards me to ask if I was OK the woman across was glaring at me and I meekly replied.

“Yes, I am fine thank you, no problems, thank you.”

If the three were in any doubt that I was on the run they needed no more convincing. I had been half throttled my pockets ransacked and I did not say anything to the guard. I was just a piece of human flotsam, vulnerable white trash to be exploited.

The third woman returned to her seat and I was surrounded once again and the woman opposite repeated her question this time in a more aggressive tone.

“How old you?”

I did not want to answer but a sharp dig in my ribs from her friend made me wince and moan and of course blurted out my age whilst rubbing my side.

“Thirty one, thirty one.”

The three then continued chattering in their own language much as if I was not there, but I was there pinned against the window and I was hoping beyond hope that they would be leaving the train before my own stop.  Tired from my lack of sleep during the last few days I must have drifted off and I was roused by my arm being tugged and pulled to my feet.

The train had stopped at a station and, with a firm grip taken of my arm I was being taken along the aisle. I started to speak to protest but fat fingers nipped and squeezed my cheek. The woman holding me dwarfed me and any resistance to being herded off the train was futile.

I was helpless both arms now gripped by one of the women on either side of me with my feet hardly touching the floor. With the women laughing and me held between them no one on the platform showed any concern, why would they question this loud, laughing, and gregarious smiling group. I was anonymous amongst them in my dowdy clothing.  Behind the station an expensive car was waiting. The Woman who had been sat opposite me on the train grabbed my jaw.

“We know you run from London we not care you ours now, you belong us.”

Her grip was almost squeezing me to tears and I looked at her fearfully they were taking me, they really were? I had read about white women being enslaved in their mansions by rich visitors to the country to be their maid’s. More often than not they would be illegal immigrants or people down on their luck taken off the street but I was………. Fuck, so what was I to them, no money, only my cleaners overall to my name, canvas shoes, no formal identification and a collar locked around my neck. Could I tick any more boxes, I fitted the profile perfectly.

“We look after you better, look after well, you no run from us.”

Sat in the luggage compartment of the car I stared out of the back window much like you see dogs being taken for a run by their owners.  All the talk in the car was in their own tongue and I sighed, my mind struggling to find a way I could escape from this impending nightmare.

Watching large steel gates close behind the car we were arriving at our destination where ever that was.

Ushered towards the impressive building now loaded down with the women’s bags from Harrods and Selfridges I was ushered unceremoniously towards the entrance. I tall elegant women of the same ethnicity stood in the doorway and pushed me to one side letting the ladies enter. The woman who had been sat opposite me on the train pointed at me talking to this statuesque woman and both laughed.

Smirking, the woman’s hand grabbed the lapel of my scruffy coat, pulled me inside and closed the door.

Taken down into the bowels of the building each time I tried to speak I was slapped hard across my face with the desired effect of keeping me silent.

Unlike the three corpulent women on the train this woman’s English was good and her uncompromising words made me shiver could this really be happening in twenty first century England of all places? 

Having brought me to tears denigrating me and my worthless status, I was nothing and would not be missed by anyone. She told me in no uncertain terms that I may have escaped from my last owners in London, who had collared me, but there would be no running away from Kingston Hall I was now the property of Princess Makabuku to serve in her household.

I would be provided with clothing, food and accommodation.  I would speak only when spoken to and pay due deference to all the residents of Kingston hall.  I was in tears as I nodded my acceptance of the terms, what alternative did I have? I had been taken to be their slave my cheeks already sore from the slapping.

How long would it be before Jenny came looking for me, would she come looking for me, and how would she find me? Would Jackie raise an alarm, why would she, good-bye not Au revoir she said, she would be pleased for me to just disappear?

In tears my head buried in my hands the woman grabbed my hair and lifted my head to face her and with pleading eyes I blubbered out a last gasp appeal for salvation.

“Please , please don’t slap me again, I am not what you think I am, I am a qualified lawyer I am a team manager at Baker and Leach off the Strand in London , you can check, Paula Simons , they will tell you who I am, telephone them, you can’t do this to me. I know this may seem odd dressed like I am with no money or anything and this collar around my neck  but it’s true please check, I won’t say anything about this I promise please let me go please.

The woman let my head drop back into my hands and laughed.

“I don’t care if you were the Queen of England you are just one of my maids now so get used to it, Lawyer indeed, pull the other one, you miserable worm.”

Pulled to my feet I was told in no uncertain terms any more of my lies and I would be punished and foolishly, through my tears, I continued my desperate pleading.

“But it’s true, it’s true, it’s true. Telephone them.”

The punishment promised was swiftly delivered held over a table I squirmed wriggled and screamed whilst my bare bottom was mercilessly caned and I crumpled to the floor sobbing at the woman’s feet.

My compliance assured I stripped when told and sat whilst a large pair of bolt cutters removed Jenny’s ornate collar. A good thing I thought knowing I could not have got rid of it without the combination.  My relief was short lived however when a heavy banded collar replaced it. There was nothing ornate about the collar that now hung around my neck. A quarter inch heavy band of stainless steel perhaps four inches in depth with a swinging ring to the front and a stout lock to the rear.

I continued to softly sob whilst I dressed in the clothing given to me. The coat, overall, underwear and shoes, the whole identity I was brought to this place in having been tossed in the trash.  The plain, baggy, long sleeved, high collared black dress I now wore did not mask my new steel collar its generous skirts bellowing loose below my ankles and the heavy boots I had been given.

My eyes drying, I am taken to a room, my room now and without a word the door is locked behind me and I flop down on the bunk like bed and burst into tears again. This cannot be happening to me it just can’t.

Subscribe to Lady2Maid Blog Newsletter