Toni's first day
started early. She showered, shaved her body then prepared Brad’s breakfast.
It felt natural to be
to be nude. Nude was good: it asserted her status, affirmed her sexuality, made
her relaxed, sensual.
She wallowed in the
delight, the arousal, the general feeling of well being
nudity accorded. Her training had been thorough. She recalled the time fondly:
reminiscing on its pleasure, and pain. She missed it. She missed the people,
the house and the garden, access to open air exercise: the funny bicycles and
log cutting. Who was helping Hannah? The exalted Darcie or some lucky novice?
Toni yearned to be starting over.
She woke Brad and
served breakfast, standing obediently while he ate.
'You don’t have to do
that. Sit, eat with me.'
'I can speak my mind;
that is allowed?'
'Of course.'
'I’m your slave. I
want it to be complete. Do you understand?'
'If that's what you
want.'
'I’m certain!'
'Right: listen to
today's instructions.' Brad listed activities. Toni listened patiently until he
had finished.
'Will you allow for
exercise please? I need to keep fit. Also, I must do shopping. What shall I
wear, how much should I spend? What shall I do if I meet any of our friends?'
She saw Brad mentally kicking himself for overlooking domestic essentials.
Perhaps she had overstated her comments and embarrassed him. He might impose
punishment.
'Go shopping after
you've cleaned the flat. Wear your button-through dress, pull the belt tight.
Leave the top button undone and don’t fasten any lower than your crotch. Take
some money from the sideboard. Keep a record, I’ll check tonight. If you meet any
of our friends, speak to them and answer questions truthfully. I’ll have to
think about exercise. Do some ballet practice today. If the phone rings answer
it. I might be ringing to change your instructions.'
Toni stood on their
outer landing to see him off, staying there until she heard the car leave.
Wistfully she turned
indoors to her tasks. How wonderful it would be to go with him, to walk proudly
beside him attending to his every need. The fantasy gripped her imagination: a
nude slave in the High Street. It would not stop there: he might put her in
restraints, spank her in the park, make her masturbate for some passing voyeur,
call one of the office typists to touch her up; all day subjecting her to his
decadent will. Fantasies fed her appetite until she longed to frig herself, but
the training was secure: Toni stored her arousal, capping it tightly for future
use.
She enjoyed shopping,
but not the dress. In the sweltering summer weather it felt heavy and
constricting in an irritating way with none of the exhilaration that comes from
real bondage. Chatting to acquaintances was sterile conversation confined to
mundane domesticity. She had to suppress the urge to lift her skirt, display
her naked bottom and provoke an admission of shared sexuality.