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HOUSEKEEPER FROM HELL!
By
Anne Gray
Author’s
note: This story is fiction; the author in no way condones or promotes any
activity that is not entirely consensual.
I
glanced to the left of my computer screen checking the monitor for the dungeon
camera. The hi-tech equipment picked up
the slow, if somewhat strained, rise and fall of her chest against the tight
leather of the straight jacket. Her legs
were encased in a double leg boot; a skintight kid leather helmet covered her
head and the extremely large gag that had taken a fair amount of work to
install. A butt plug and dildo were
held firmly inside her by a crotch strap attached to the jacket. Wide, heavy leather straps held her down
starting at the forehead then every 12” or so down to
the last one that crossed the toe of the boot forcing her feet into an even
more incredible arch.
Sure
it was a bit of bondage over kill but Sheryl wasn’t in any position to complain
and the image satisfied my leather Domme persona.
Sheryl
was a study in contrasts and that was a real shame. On the one hand she was a raven-haired beauty
in her early twenties who turned heads wherever she went. On the other hand she drank too much and then
got a garbage mouth that cancelled out her attractiveness.
She
was extremely wealthy with the inheritance plus the insurance money from the
accident that killed her parents and I thought, wrongly as it turned out, that
the memories of that terrible night might be why she drank so much. Instead of getting any semblance of relief
from the booze it just made her antagonistic until the few friends she had
wanted nothing to do with her. There was no family left so she drank more.
Living
alone in a huge house didn’t help. She
rattled around in it and had lost any purpose or direction.
The
only other person in the home was me - the housekeeper. Well, for the moment, that’s what I was. It had not taken much to see the opportunity
and she was drunk when I applied for the job.
“Just
keep the f…king place clean and the bar stocked if you want to stay.” Those were her only instructions.
I
had handed her another very smooth Tom Collins and asked when I could move in!
Two
weeks before that conversation I had stopped for a late lunch before finishing
the trip to my home about another hour away.
It was an upscale spot and partway through my meal I had watched and
listened as the maitre ‘d quietly advised the young
lady at a nearby table that they would, unfortunately, be unable to serve her
any more alcohol.
During
the ensuing scene, when she exploded with a string of unprintable expletives, I
looked around the room and noticed several diners just shaking their heads or
grinning at each other.
My
antenna went up and they were rarely wrong.
A
quiet question to my waitress and I got the basics of the story before she
said, “She’ll stay away now for about two weeks before she forgets that we cut
her off and comes in again.” Then, with
a bit of motherly concern she continued, “What Sheryl really needs is someone
to look after her but she can’t even keep a housekeeper for more than a couple
of weeks.”
During
the rest of the drive to my beachfront condo I thought about what I had seen
and heard. Several very lucrative deals
over the last couple of years meant that I no longer had to practice the legal
profession on a day-to-day basis; in fact, I could lead a life of leisure if I
was so inclined. But, I always kept an
eye open for opportunity knocking again.
A
week of research to confirm and expand on the details and I was convinced it really
was opportunity. I got to work.
The
manager/concierge of my building was very efficient, very good looking and very
much my sub’. We enjoyed many sessions
in my 25th floor penthouse condo ‘playing’ together when I was in my
‘leather Domme mood’ and I knew I could depend on her to follow instructions.
“I
have a chance to pull off a major coup Janice and I might be gone a few days, a
couple of weeks or six months depending on how things go. All possible expenses here have been covered
and I’ll give you a cell phone number to be used only if there is an extreme
emergency. Make sure the cleaners come
in regularly and, if I’m not back in two weeks, I want you to call the dealer
and have them look after my Jag’. Any questions?”
There
weren’t.
At
the local thrift store I put together a suitable wardrobe. Then, from a theatrical supply outlet, bought
a mousy brown wig and two thin appliances that, when fitted over my teeth not
only dulled them but also changed the features of my lower face and affected
the way I spoke. It was a simple but
effective disguise.
A
visit to a used car lot, dressed in housekeeper mode, and $500 had me driving
away in an overpriced ‘mechanic’s special’.
Two
days later Ms. Sheryl Kerr hired me.
The
first week or so settled into a pattern with few variations. Sheryl came down from her master suite around
mid-day impeccably dressed and polite to her dowdy housekeeper.
If
she was going out for lunch she poured a stiff one or two before leaving. If she was staying in to eat then I poured
and served the drinks with the meal. In
either case by early evening she was drunk.
And
then it was yell at the housekeeper, criticize the food, the state of the
house, what I had done or what I hadn’t done.
It took her a couple of weeks before she seemed to understand I wasn’t
leaving and then she tried another trick.
Make the dowdy housekeeper her drinking partner.
On
these evenings she would get maudlin and often drank straight shots of vodka
with ice water chasers. And, of course,
I matched her drink for drink except mine were straight shots of water.
Then
I would get her upstairs, tidy her up and let the pattern start again.
After
one particularly heavy session I made my move.
“I
remember signing some papers last night, what the f...k’s going on?”
“Yes
Miss here it is, you decided to open a small bank account for me to handle the
household accounts without bothering you all the time.”
I
showed her a paper that did exactly that and she backed off with a “Oh yeah, that was a good idea.” I didn’t show her the two others she had
signed. They were Power of Attorney documents covering health care and
financial matters. The executor was me!
When
she left to drink her lunch at the golf club I went online and accessed the
bank statements. The numbers blew my
mind. Even though she was spending money
like water, or should that be booze, it would be 20 years before there was even
a dent in the principle.
I
started a regular transfer to the household account; it was hefty but would not
be noticeable among the other huge figures.
Another
few weeks, during which ‘the housekeeper’ let drop hints, when doing the
grocery shopping or chatting with the dry cleaner, that Ms Kerr had talked
about maybe entering a clinic. This laid
the groundwork of my plan.
I,
of course, had the run of the mansion and found just what was needed in the
basement. Sometime in the past there had
been a fully stocked wine cellar down there.
The fair sized room still had full climate controls, a large sink
against one wall and a heavy lockable door.
The racks were dusty and empty.
When Sheryl was out of the house one day I slipped the
gardener/handyman, who came by once a week, a few extra dollars and had him
move the racks down to a back corner of the basement.
Over
the next week I cleaned the room thoroughly, visited a hardware store in
another town and picked up one of the new, odorless chemical toilets that I
moved in after pouring Sheryl in bed one evening.
The
heavy cot took some planning but was eventually bolted in place.
I
called Janice and instructed her to pack a couple of boxes with the supplies I
needed and Fed Ex them to the post office in the next
town.
Once
I was satisfied with my arrangements a very drunk Ms. Sheryl Kerr visited her
wine cellar for the first time in years assisted by the person she would come
to think of as her housekeeper from hell!
The
next two or three weeks were indeed hell for both of us as she went through
withdrawal.
One
day, once she had fallen into an exhausted sleep after another session with the
DT’s, I drove the old rattletrap to town and since I had drained most of the
oil, it seized up and died, as planned, in the middle of the main street.
The
mechanic just shook his head over it and offered me a ride home during which I
wondered aloud if, since Ms Kerr had checked into a clinic somewhere and left
me to look after the house, would she mind if I used
one of her cars?
I
was going to anyway but the service station was gossip central and I knew it
would be all over town in a very short time span.
After
a month in the ‘dungeon’ she had lost a lot of weight and was hollow eyed but
dry. I had been using sets of hospital
restraints and found that a rubber covered ring gag was ideal since it took
away the possibility of her choking.
Now
I started to bring her back to a healthy state and gave her a choice. I could use the ring gag and a funnel down
her throat to force-feed her pap or she could sit and eat normally at the table
I had moved down to the room. Normally
that is if you ignored the chain padlocked around her waist and the chair back,
the cuffs holding each ankle to the chair legs and the short chains from the
wrist cuffs to the tabletop.
She
still chose ‘normally’ most of the time!
Similar
restraints, except the ankle cuffs but with the addition of a very effective
ball gag, were used when I took her up to the exercise room for half an hour in
the morning and again in the afternoon.
While
all this was going on the household account grew rapidly but not fast enough
for me so I stepped up the pace. The
‘housekeeper’ was getting very fed up with the dowdy look and yellow teeth. So
I let it drop around town that Ms. Kerr was coming along nicely and had decided
that when she left the clinic in a few weeks she was going to charter a private
‘dry’ around the world cruise to make sure she didn’t have the opportunity to
have a relapse. Then she was going to
move somewhere that nobody knew her and start to live a normal life.
Another
call to Janice confirmed that the unit next to my penthouse was still up for
sale and I set things in motion to buy it.
Aroused
by my thoughts I went back down to the dungeon and started taking the bondage
gear off her head until I could get the gag out. Peeling off the shapeless dress I straddled
her and pulled her head up until she could reach me with her tongue.
The
first time I had tried this she was surprised to see that her housekeeper had a
much trimmer and younger body than she thought; then she started swearing at
me. Ten minutes later there was a large
gag in her mouth, her legs were strapped wide apart and I came back down from
the kitchen.
From
the freezer I had retrieved two molds and I let her watch as I cracked them
open to reveal penis shaped ice forms.
“You
must learn not to do things to upset me Sheryl.
I thought we had cured your garbage mouth but I guess you’re just a
spoiled brat who likes to drink. It will
probably take these quite a while to melt and that will give you time to think
about things.”
One
of the frozen toys slipped easily into her rear passage; the other inside her
vagina. I strapped a pad of cloth over
them and left to the sound of her muffled shrieks.
Since
then she had become quite the expert with her tongue.
Satisfied
for the moment I slipped a ball gag between her teeth, tightened the strap at
the back of her neck and went upstairs to continue the necessary arrangements
for completing my plans.
So now the house had been sold and, on closing, the proceeds would be
held ‘in trust’ for Sheryl by her new lawyer - me. There are so many ways around that I’m
laughing. Her accounts and all other
assets joined the seven figure number for the house. The housekeeping account had been closed by
‘the housekeeper’ but actually was used to buy and re-design the other
penthouse suite at my condo building. I
now owned the whole top level.
The
housekeeper had left town supposedly with a large thank you settlement. God I was so happy to dump the dowdy look,
clean my own teeth and let down my hair.
All
of Sheryl’s clothes and personal possessions had been shipped to storage and
would stay there for a few months until things settled down and were
forgotten. Then I would retrieve
anything useful.
All
that remained was to ship Sheryl to her new home. It would be so simple to just bundle her up
and throw her in the trunk but that was not my style. I wanted something a bit more original that
would make the journey interesting but not too comfortable for her.
I
noticed that the Lexus SUV in the garage had a trailer hitch – hummm!
Making
sure that the cords holding Sheryl in a somewhat vicious hogtie were nice and
tight I removed the plug from the ring gag.
The wine cellar was almost soundproof and, anyway, there would be nobody
else in the house to hear her grunts.
Leaving her completely gagged while I was out would be stupid; the last
thing I wanted was to come home and find her nose had plugged up and I had a
body on my hands. Besides, now she was
healthy, she was extremely attractive again and I had long term plans for us.
After
a visit to the local trailer rental agency I returned to the house with exactly
what I was looking for hooked up to the SUV.
The box was 8’ long and just under 4’ wide. The sides were also 4’ high and the whole
thing rested on a single central axle.
Just behind the wheel on the right side there was a hinged loading
door. A heavy tarpaulin, currently
stored along the top front edge, could be unrolled and laced to rings all
around the box about 12” from the top.
Since
I would be making a few minor modifications to the trailer I had just bought it
instead of renting and now pulled inside the huge garage where there was plenty
of room. I had sold the three other
cars.
The
next morning I dressed in comfortable leather slacks, a light cotton top and
ankle boots with sensible heels.
Gathering everything needed I left some of it in a room next to the
garage and carried the rest down to the dungeon.
The
first move was to padlock a leather head harness, with a built in gag and
blindfold, on Sheryl. That made her a
lot easier to handle as I stripped off the few clothes she wore, threw a
blanket down, and spread-eagled her to the floor rings.
Any
resistance was minimal because, after I released her right arm and started
working on the specially designed kid leather shoulder length glove, she just
let it go limp. I put my knee on the
wrist and leaned down to whisper in her ear.
“That’s
one Sheryl; co-operate because you only have two nostrils.” Then I pushed a plug in the left side of her
nose.
Now
straining to get enough air she knew enough to straighten her fingers and arm
once I removed my knee. That allowed me
to slide the glove in place and lace it tightly. The left arm went just as smoothly. I felt she had learned her lesson so I pulled
out the nose plug.
While
I had her left arm I tied the wrist to another ring at waist level and then did
the same to the right. This stopped her
rather impressive breasts from being somewhat flattened, as they were when her
arms were stretched above her head.
All
I had to do was blow lightly across her nipple to get it ready to receive the
flanged clamp. The pod of the clamp
covered her nipple and was held in place with a small rubber tipped screw. The metal flange spread against the flesh to
just past the areola and had small holes around its edge. When they were both in place I gathered up
two 1” wide leather straps and tightened them around the base of each breast.
The
top edge of the straps had small metal rings that lay flat against the bulging
skin. If anyone took the time to count
the rings they would find the number matched the number of holes in the nipple
clamps. But that was for later in the
process.
I
re-arranged Sheryl so she was lying on her stomach with her arms under my knees
at her sides. I wrapped a piece of cord
around each wrist and ran the ends to a couple more floor rings just above her
shoulders. It needed several hard pulls on the cord to get her arms up between
her shoulder blades but once that was done the special feature of the gloves
came into play.
A
reinforced seam along each forearm held a small D ring every inch or so and I
pulled on the wet rawhide as I threaded it through them. I used my knees to squeeze against her elbows
as I played the hair dryer up and down the rawhide.
As I
was doing this I took the time to dig my fingers in to her neck and shoulder
muscles. Gradually her forearms came
together and then touched in a classic reverse prayer.
The
groans were understandable but I was not about to stop now.
She
made a very tempting sight but I kept telling myself to wait until I got her
home.
The
boots took quite some time but eventually they were laced up to her
thighs. They had no heels and just ended
in a 2” round metal toecap. Fashioned in
the ballet boot style they forced her feet to an angle where her toes were in
line with her shins.
Now
it was time to complete the breast bondage.
Using a large blunt needle and more of the wet rawhide I wove a web of
tight thongs between the straps around the base of her breasts and the holes in
the flanges of the nipple clamps. I
didn’t bother with the dryer; they would dry naturally from her body heat and
would provide a uniquely constant squeezing pressure but do no damage. She didn’t know that!
I
mentally stopped to review the rest of my idea for transporting Sheryl. The gagged and blindfolded girl didn’t stand
a chance as I worked in the butt plug and then the dildo. Another small clamp went on her clit then I
taped the fine wires from them up until I could join them to the other two
whose contacts I snapped into the tips of the nipple pods.
That
made just one control wire that I draped over her shoulder. Oh boy, it was going to be an interesting
journey for this young lady.
The
crotch strap to hold everything in place attached to a waist belt I slipped
under her locked elbows. Now we were
ready to move upstairs so I took off the blindfold. She just stared up at me shaking her head but
then the tears started because I, again, leaned into her ear and said, “We’ve
only just begun my pet. Wait until you
see the rest of your traveling outfit.”
Pulling
her to her feet I had to support her as she toe walked to the service
elevator. The metal toes clicked, her
chest was forced forward by the stringent position of her arms and I could see
the wet rawhide was starting to embed itself into the flesh of her breasts.
One
floor up and over to the room by the garage where she saw what awaited and
tried to pull back. Fat
chance.
Janice
and Sheryl were very close in height and while Sheryl was just a little more
voluptuous I was sure that, given a bit of effort, I could fit her into
Janice’s full body corset. So I had
asked her to ship it with the other ‘toys’.
The
heavily boned gleaming black leather garment had cost a small fortune but it
was worth it.
I
let Sheryl lean back against the wall and her eyes never left what I was doing
as she teetered on the toe boots. All
the laces were undone and the corset was opened resting on a blanket on the
floor. I had the sudden picture of
someone trying to put a lobster back in its shell. Well, that wasn’t too far off what I was
going to do.
With
her arms useless and unable to balance in the boots without help it was easy to
lead Sheryl over to the blanket and then, a simple tap against one of her toes
and I guided her body down on to the leather prison. When she was down I strapped her ankles
together and then got to work.
And
work it was. The heavy leather started
well below her knees, pinched in at the waist, had a tight pouch for her arms
and ended with a neck corset that had a throat protector embedded. There were openings allowing her breasts to
bulge through with the boned leather fitting closely around the straps trapping
their bases.
I
had to re-work the laces several times until I was satisfied that they were as
tight as possible then I rolled Sheryl over and left her to adjust while I went
back down to the wine cellar. The cot
soon joined the old racks at the back of the basement, the floor and ceiling
hooks went in the garbage and the old wine cellar became, again, an old wine
cellar.
Stopping
by the kitchen for a bottle of water and the bar for something a little
stronger I returned to the helpless heiress.
She
was just about completely rigid from toes to neck and I knelt down beside my
‘lobster’ in her leather carapace to remove the gag and rest of the head
harness.
“I’m
just going to dribble this water in your mouth so you don’t choke. I’d advise you drink it because it will be the
last liquid you get for a few hours.”
Obviously
she was completely helpless with the bondage already in place but I would
probably be faced with a bout of hysterics if she knew what was yet to come!
Once
the water bottle was empty and I was refreshed with my own drink it was time to
continue and that meant Sheryl’s head needed work.
The
neck corset held her head steady as I rolled her first to one side and then the
other so I could fit the miniature speakers in each ear. With the system turned off they would make
her deaf, with it on I could conduct a one way chat to let her know what was
going on or just torment her with word pictures of what I had planned for the
future.
She
tried to resist the gag but I just pinched her lower lip between two fingers
and started to twist as I pulled down.
More tears and then her teeth parted and I forced the hard rubber in
behind them. There were channels in the
top and bottom of the gag that, after a little bit of effort to get her jaws
wide enough, her teeth settled into.
Even
though her mouth was filled to capacity there was a 1” diameter hole through
the middle of the gag and a hard hollow tube protruded passed her stretched lips. I was not going
to rely on her getting enough air just through her nose during this journey.
I
pulled a rubber cap over her head, tucked in her hair, and then started to fit
the leather helmet. I had been
straddling Sheryl’s stomach to get the gag in and now fitted the breathing pipe
through the mouth hole of the helmet, inserted the two short hollow rubber
tubes attached to the inside up into her nostrils then stretched the leather up
over the forehead.
Framed
by the openings in the black leather her eyes stared up at me until I rolled
the stiff form over on her stomach and started closing the helmet down the back
of her head. The neck of the helmet
extended down over the throat protector and I was able to tighten the laces
enough to bring the two edges of the leather together.
Not
satisfied, I fitted the metal ring of a gag strap over the tube protruding from
her mouth and tightened the strap behind her head.
I
clicked on the small microphone clipped to my collar and rolled her over to her
back so I could look down in her eyes.
“Well
little Miss Garbage Mouth now we have you nicely tucked up in all that lovely
leather we need to hook this up.” I
pulled the control wire down between her breasts, noting that the rawhide was
still damp, and plugged it in to a small battery pack. Checking that I had a green light on the hand
control I immediately shut it off.
“I
think now that we had better do something to protect your outfit for our trip;
hadn’t we?”
If
looks could kill I would have dropped dead right then and there. But they don’t and I unpacked the body bag.
Starting
at her booted feet I worked the stiff form inside the form fitting heavy
rubber, stretched it to pop her shoulders inside and then pulled up the
oversized zipper from her ankles, over her tormented breasts, up to the
neck. Several half straps closed over
the zipper pulling it even more tightly against the curves of her body.
There
was a helmet attached but I first took a pair of rubber framed swimming goggles
and settled them over her eyes, tightening the strap at the back of her head.
Now
the hood came up and over her leather covered face. It had openings for the lenses of the
goggles, under her nose and to allow the gag tube to protrude. I pulled the straps tightly under her chin
and around her neck to seal the bag.
She
had gone from a statuesque form in horrendously tight black leather to the same
form but covered in shiny black rubber.
In either case she was helpless; she was a vision of the bondage art and
she was mine.
I
was still not finished.
The
net was just over 6’ by 10’ and made of heavy cord in a 3” mesh and I stretched
it out on the floor close to the trailer.
There was a mechanic’s trolley handy in the garage, the ones they use to
slide under cars and I positioned it next to Sheryl’s body so I could roll her
up on her side then back down on the platform.
That
done it was a simple matter to wheel her over to the edge of the net. Rolling her off I
wrapped the net along the length of her form and started her rolling
again.
After
three turns I used some twist ties to attach the other edge of the net to the
layers wrapped around her body.
Gathering the edges of the net at the top of her head I gathered them in
a metal swivel clamp. Another one
gathered up the edges just past her toes.
I checked that the net was not obstructing her breathing or covering the
lenses of the goggles.
Believe
it or not I got this idea from television.
Flipping through the countless channels to take my mind off the downside
of acting as her housekeeper, I had watched some idiot take a running jump at a
hammock strung between two trees. He
landed on the hammock then it twisted round and round until it had made him a
prisoner.
It
did take some effort to drag my prize into the trailer and hook the swivel
clamp at the top of her head to the heavy turnbuckle I had attached to the
forward edge of the trailer. I got a
grip around her legs and lifted enough to guide the foot clamp into a
turnbuckle at the other end of the trailer.
Using
a short metal bar as a lever I worked back and forth between the two
turnbuckles until, gradually the slight sag came out of Sheryl’s form and she
was held horizontally face down about 2’ off the floor of the trailer between
the two ends.
Now
I needed a break, she wasn’t going anywhere and I pushed in an earplug to make
sure I would hear if she got in trouble.
The
shower felt marvelous after all my work and I pushed the earplug back in to
hear Sheryl’s steady breathing. My dark
blue leather skirt came just slightly below the knees, brushing against the top
of the boots with easily handled 4” heels.
I chose a white satin blouse to go under the leather waistcoat that
matched the skirt.
As I
walked around the mansion to make sure there was nothing unusual left for the
new owners o wonder about, I worked on my kid leather driving gloves then,
satisfied that all was in order, picked up the belted leather jacket to
complete my outfit, locked all the doors and headed for the garage.
Standing
in the trailer I easily twisted Sheryl’s form around on the swivels so I could
smile down at her then let go so her heavily confined body flopped over until
she was face down again.
I
latched the door of the trailer and rolled the tarpaulin down to the end then
laced the sides in place. More than
enough airflow would get inside during the drive.
I flipped
the mic’ switch again.
“Oh
Sheryl my pet, we are going for a lovely drive now. I will try to avoid too many bumps that might
make you twist in those swivel buckles but I can’t promise anything.
Pulling
the SUV out of the garage I thumbed the switch on the hand control to the
battery box activating the vibrators in the butt plug and dildo plus the
butterflies resting against her clit and the nipple clamps. I set them at low to begin with planning to
gradually make things more interesting for her as the trip progressed.
“Enjoy
Sheryl, I’m going to take the long way around so you
have about three hours before I really introduce you to life with a leather
Domme.”