Jacey

[Sandra B]

Chapter 1.  Suspicion

My relationship with Steve had never been that great.  We’d been going out for over two years, since we were fifteen, but I’d always had this feeling that he was only partly with me, if you know what I mean.  He seemed unsatisfied in some way, but he would never say what was on his mind.  I’m Jacinth, by the way – yeah, I know it’s a bit of a crap name, but it’s a gemstone, and a nice one.  My mum told me that I was conceived the same day as my dad gave her a brooch with a jacinth stone in it.  That’s the only reason.  I don’t like it much.  I think I’ll change it when I’m older.  My friends just call me “J” mostly, or “Jacey” sometimes.  But to get back to my story.  So I really liked Steve, but even after all that time I wasn’t sure what he felt about me.  Not really.  It wasn’t that he looked at other women – well, not exactly.  He did look at certain types, or women dressed in certain ways.  I think he really liked bossy women – he always seemed to melt slightly – I don’t know how else to describe it - when we were out with my friend Sam and her bloke.  Sam’s tall and assertive and always has an opinion.  Her bloke’s a bit of a wimp, I’ve always thought.  So I began to think I wasn’t the right type for him.  Sex was good – though he always wanted me to take the lead, which I’m quite happy to do, anyway!  So there was this day, when we were together at my house, watching some stuff on TV, and he got a text.  He had his phone volume turned right down, but I heard it, though I pretended not to.  Then almost immediately he left the room, informing me he was going to the toilet.  That made me suspicious.  He wasn’t the sort of guy who would mention that to excuse himself.  No.  He’d just go.  So I knew at once he was hiding something. 
We had a few drinks that evening, with my mum, who likes a glass of wine – or two – every now and then.  She liked Steve.  She allowed us to sleep together in the house, which I thought was nice.  I felt accepted by her, and completely at ease.  She was nice – unpretentious but interesting, and when she’d had a few, very good fun.  So I had sort of planned to sneak a peek at his phone after we’d gone to bed, but it turned out I didn’t have to wait that long.  He fell asleep in the armchair, with his phone on the carpet next to him.  I sneaked it out into the kitchen.  I knew his passcode, though he didn’t know I knew.  I soon found the text: “Friday 10 am. D.” and a postcode.  I made a note of the number and replaced the phone.  Now what?  On Friday he’d told me he had a meeting at work all the morning, so he’d be uncontactable till lunchtime.  That was now revealed as a lie concocted to cover this assignation.  I felt miserable and worried.  I didn’t want to confront him with it, partly because I didn’t want to face the truth, partly because I’m not the possessive type.  I sort of believe in freedom in relationships.  A person can’t help their feelings.  I didn’t want him to be in emotional prison.  But I cried silently half the night.  Steve didn’t notice.  He must have had a bottle of red wine at least, so he was well out of it.
This was on the Tuesday.  I didn’t feel any better on the Wednesday.  I skipped school.  I rang up and said I was sick.  Which was literally true.  It’s pretty laid back in the upper sixth, anyway.  We’re supposed to get on with things by ourselves.  I’m at college.  I want to get good A-levels and go to uni.  Steve left school at fifteen and works for a local engineering company, who are paying for him to get proper qualifications.  We’re both happy in what we’re doing.  We got along okay.  Till that Tuesday.

I didn’t know what to do.  I spent the morning tearing myself apart.  Then I texted my friend Sarah at college, and arranged to meet her that evening.  We met up in the pub and had a couple of drinks.  She was absolutely no help at all.  She just told me to ditch him and move on.  She was like that with men.  For her, they were disposable.  One was very much like another.  They should be judged by two criteria, money and appearance.  So that was no good.  I left her in the pub and went for a walk.  Then I remembered Steve’s older sister, Madeline.  She lived an independent life.  She worked for some big legal firm and had her own flat.  I had never had much to do with her, but she always struck me as a rare combination of intelligence and empathy.  I called her.
“Madeline?  Hi, this is Jacinth.  Hi.  I was wondering…  I have a problem, and I just need someone to talk to.  Could I sometime….?”
“Sure, J.  Come over.  Now, if you want.”  She must have heard the desperation in my voice.
“Really?  Thank you so much.  Actually, I’m only ten minutes away, if….”
“See you soon, then.  I’ll open a bottle.”

Now that’s what I call a friend!  Fifteen minutes later I was sitting on her sofa drinking a glass of iced Sauvignon Blanc and pouring out my woes.
“I know this is not your problem, Maddy.  I’m sorry.  I just needed someone to talk to.  It was stupid to bother you, you being his sister an all…”  The tears were streaming down my face.  Madeline put her arm round me.
“No bother, J.  Sounds like he’s being a bit of a twat to me.  He can be, you know.  Yes, he’s my brother, and in general he’s not a bad bloke, but sometimes…”
“It’s so good of you to be so objective about it.”
“Not really.  It’s easier to be objective about your sibling, or anyone in your family.  You didn’t choose them, after all.  They were imposed on you by fate.”
I laughed.  “But I don’t know what I should do next…”
“Have you got that number?”
“Yes.  Right here.”
“Ring “D”.  Maybe it’s another bloke!”
“What?”
“Well, you never know,” she grinned.  “Stranger things….”
“Should I?”
“Why not?  See who it is.  If it’s another woman, you can talk to her, see what’s going on – if anything.  Warn her off, if you like.  Or dump him.  But at least you’ll know.  Go on.  Put it on speaker.  I’m interested too.”
With great trepidation I laid my phone on the table, took a big swig of wine, and dialled the number.  It was answered almost at once.
“Hello?  Can I help you.”  A woman’s voice.  I plucked up courage.
“Is that… D?”
“Yes.  Danielle.  To whom am I speaking?”
She sounded very confident.  I started stammering.
“I…I.. my name’s Jacey.  I…found a text from you on my boyfriend’s phone.  Look, I’m sorry, I don’t want to have a fight.  I’d just like to know if he’s about to dump me, that’s all.  Please tell me and I’ll get off the line.”
There was a long pause.
“I shouldn’t be discussing this with you at all, but…what’s his name?”
“You don’t know?”
“My dear, there are so many…”
“Really!” I retorted, slightly annoyed, and added sarcastically, “well, it’s nice to know he's only one of many!”
“Name?”
“Steve.  Friday, 10 am, you wrote.”
“Ah, yes.  His first time.  Don’t you know who I am…Jacey?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“Ah.  I’m a professional dominatrix.  Steve has booked an hour and a half session.  We haven’t yet discussed his requirements.  I don’t do sex, if that’s what you’re worried about.  Does that help?”
I was speechless.  Madeline had collapsed on the floor, helpless with stifled mirth.  There was nothing else to be said.
“Thank you.  Thank you so much.  I’m so sorry to have troubled you.”
“No problem darling.  You can always get me if… you know.”
“Thank you.”  I ended the call.

[Sandra B]

Chapter 2.  Risky Business.

Madeline stopped laughing and stared at me for a moment.  Then she was off again.
“Oh, my god.  I don’t believe it!  I had no idea he was….like that!”
I wasn’t feeling so amused.  “Why didn’t he ever say something to me?  I’m supposed to be his girlfriend.  His partner.  He’s supposed to confide in me!”
“Well, J, I guess he was just too embarrassed.”  She became more thoughtful.  “So what are you going to do?  Are you going to let him keep that appointment?”
“I’d like to, if I could be the domme.  I’d give him what for!”
”But seriously.  I mean, you could just overlook it.  He must want it badly.  It isn’t sex, after all.  She said that, didn’t she?”
“I don’t even care about the session.  I’m just angry he’s prepared to deceive me so easily.  I don’t feel I can trust him any more.”
“I understand, J.  But he’s obviously so paranoid that he couldn’t tell you – or anyone.  I think it’s hilarious.  I’d love to be a fly on the wall of her dungeon.”
“Do you think she has a dungeon?”
“Course.  They all do.  Couldn’t operate without it.”
“I’ve got the postcode too.  I guess he’ll go there and then make contact.”
“Hmm.  We could lie in wait for him.”
“And do what?”
“Yeah, all you could do would be to confront him, and watch him squirming.  No, let him go.  Maybe Danielle will give him hell.”
“I hope she thrashes him till he bleeds!”
“Ooh, that’s not nice, J.  Not nice at all.  Sounds like you’d make quite a good domme yourself.”
“I wish I could be Danielle, just for that morning.”
“Maybe you could.  Maybe she’d let you take over.”
“Don’t be silly, Maddy.”
“She might.  Why don’t you ask her?”
“Are you serious?”
“Sure.  What have you got to lose?”
“God, that would be so cool.  To have that little bastard down on his knees.  But how would it work?
“Maybe you could stand in for Danielle.  Wear a mask so he wouldn’t know it was you.”
“No.  She wouldn’t agree.  I’m sure it would be against the dominatrix’s code of ethics.”
“Ask her.  Go on, just do it for me.  I’m finding the idea quite exciting.”
“Okay.  Sod it.  I will.”
So I called Danielle again.
“Hi.  It’s me again.  Jacey.  Sorry to call you again, but I wanted to ask something.”
“Go ahead.”
“Is there any way…any way I could stand in for you on Friday.  I’d like to punish him for his duplicity.  I want to punish him myself for being such a bastard.”
There was a long silence.
“You must know the answer.  My clients rely on me to be absolutely trustworthy.  Many of them are taking a risk coming to me.  I’ve already gone further than I should, merely admitting he had an appointment.”
“No you haven’t.  I knew that anyway.  All you did was to confirm it.”
“Well that’s the end of it.  If my colleagues heard about this, I’d be in trouble.  Completely discredited.”
“I’ve got an idea,” chipped in Maddy,
“Who’s that?”
“That’s my friend, Maddy.  Steve’s brother.”
No reply.
“This is my idea, Danielle.  Jacey and I will book the next session after Steve's.  Is it free?”
“It is….,” said Danielle, slowly.
“You run over a bit, and we’ll appear, your next clients.  He’ll be in shock.  It won’t be unethical.  We’ll simply come in without being invited.”
“Then what?”
“Then we’ll shame him into doing what we want.  We’ll be the bosses then.”
“No.  It’s my dungeon. I’m in charge.  You’re not coming in and taking over.  Forget it.”
“Okay.  We understand.  It wouldn’t be right, I can see that.”
“The idea of a session with you two is quite tempting, though.  You know, most of my clients are middle-aged men.  A few women, but not many.  Women are much more fun.  And they’re tougher.  They don’t cry like the men.  So maybe I can offer you something.”
“Yeah?  What?”
“You book that next session.  Both of you, mind.  You give me carte blanche to do what I want.  If you can shame Steve into staying, I’ll include him too – but I’m not going to stop him if he wants to leave.  That’s the deal.  Yes or no?”
Maddy looked at me, and I looked at Maddy.  I felt frightened, but the prospect of crashing in on my idiot boyfriend was too good to miss.
“I’m up for it.  Maddy?”
“Okay, I guess….”
“And one more thing.  I want insurance.”
“Insurance?”
“Yes.  Just in case any of you decide to blab about it.  I’m going to film everything.  You can have copies, but I’m holding onto one.  For protection.  Agreed?”
“Okay.  But don’t worry.  We won’t tell anyone.”
“And I want to see both of you tomorrow at my place, to go over the plan.  I’ll give you the address.  Tomorrow evening.  Eight?  Good.  Oh, and you’ll need to pay me.  Cash please, as this is a bit out of the ordinary.”
“Agreed, Danielle.  See you tomorrow.”
I ended the call.
We looked at each other, wide-eyed.
“What the f*** have we done, J?” asked Maddy.

[babycakes]

OK, I'm intrigued.  Completely different story line than I'm used to on this site.  Love the potential.  Really so vastly different than "The Innocent".  Can't wait for further developments.

[Sandra B]

Chapter 3.  Danielle.

I went back to Steve’s that evening.  He called me while I was on the bus, wanting to know where I was.
“Oh, guess what?  I ran into your sister in town.  We went for a coffee.  She asked me to come to dinner tomorrow evening and catch up a bit.  Hope that’s okay?”
“Sure.  How is she?  I haven’t seen her myself for a few weeks.”
“She’s fine.  Sounds like things are going well at work.  We’re going to have a girlie evening, so I won’t disturb you.  I’ll go back to my house after.”
“Fine.  No problem.”  He sounded relieved.  Probably the prospect of having me at his place on the Friday morning had been worrying him.  Now he was free to focus on his “meeting”.

I went straight round to Maddy’s after college.  She’d given me a key in case I got there before her, which I did.  Her flat was beautiful, all clean and cool and white and uncluttered.  I felt a bit envious.  My own house was so different.  I had two younger siblings, Jeanie, who was sixteen, and Malcolm, eleven.  My mum was divorced, and worked part-time.  I helped out a bit, but she was already resigned to me leaving home shortly, so a lot of the upkeep devolved upon Jeanie.  But the house itself was a bit chaotic, not through neglect, but because my mum hated throwing away anything, so that she had a huge collection of knick-knacks, tapestries, and soft furnishings.
I made myself a coffee and perched on a stool in the kitchen.  Maddy arrived half an hour after me, sweeping into the flat with her wonted energy, and dumping her coat and her briefcase on a chair.
“J, sorry I’m a bit late.”  She looked at her watch.  We’ve got plenty of time, anyway.  This place is only fifteen minutes’ drive from here.  I had a look at it on Google maps.  On the street view.”
“So did I.  If it’s the house I think…”
“Yeah.  It’s pretty big, isn’t it?”
“I suppose it would be…”
“Let’s have some food.”
She started preparing a light meal – mozzarella salad – and got yesterday’s bottle out of the fridge.
“We must be crazy, you know that?”
“Completely, Mads.  But I was thinking.  Depending on what happens this evening, there’s still time to chicken out.”
“Yes, absolutely.  I’m going to reserve judgement, but I’d have no compunction telling this Danielle woman to get lost.  So we have nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing at all.”

We arrived at our destination about ten to eight.  It was indeed the big house we had suspected.  We drove into the gravel forecourt, and Maddy turned off the engine.  We had an idea that it wouldn’t be appreciated for us to knock at the door before our appointment, so we sat there and took in our surroundings.  The house was Victorian, red brick, and huge.
“And I bet it goes back a long way,” said Maddy.  “I know these places.”
I looked at her.  She had tied back her blonde pair in a ponytail, which was unusual.  I guessed she was trying to look her most formidable.  She was quite tall, in any case.  Taller than me and prettier, with her fine features and nice figure.  I’m just below average height, my hair is straight and mousey, and my mouth has a tendency to pout if I don’t like something.  I look younger than my age, which is a problem, as anyone like that will tell you.  You get continually patronised by men and belittled by women.  When you meet someone who treats you as an equal you feel insanely grateful.  Anyway, we sat there looking around.  Apart from the street entrance, the whole place was surrounded by tall, thick hedges.  Very nice and private.  There was a single car parked in front of the house, something white and nondescript.  Sorry, I don’t take much interest in cars – not like Steve, who’s enthusiastic to the point of being boring, even though he doesn’t have one yet.

At eight on the dot we walked up the front steps and rang at the bell.  The door was answered almost at once by a rather pretty maid in full maid’s attire.  We were not surprised.  She was slight and dark-skinned and serious, and bowed slightly as she showed us in.  She led us down a corridor hung with framed prints – I think they were of erotic scenes – and showed us into a light, sparsely-furnished  room with a shining polished wood floor, in the middle of which three luxurious-looking armchairs were arranged around a coffee-table.  In the nearest, with her back to us, sat a figure with red hair.
“Your guests, madam.”
“Thank you, Riccardo.”
Startled, I looked around at the maid as she retreated.  Was it a man?  I stared at Maddy.  She grinned, and shrugged her shoulders.
“Come in ladies.  Take a seat.  Have a drink.”  Her voice was clipped and cultured.
She didn’t get up, or turn around.  We approached her gingerly, and took our seats facing her, with our backs to the window.
“I’m Danielle.  I assume you are Jacey” - she indicated me with a slight movement of her head - “and you are the friend…”
“Madeline,” Maddy offered deferentially.  I looked at her.  She seemed to have been suddenly bereft of her usual confidence.  I also felt a sort of helplessness under Danielle’s steady gaze.
Danielle was, I would guess, in her late twenties.  She had beautiful straight strikingly red hair.  I had no doubt it was her own.  Her eyes were green, and almost mesmeric.  I couldn’t be sure if they were natural, or if she was wearing contacts.  She had full lips, very red against her white cheeks.  She had a permanent half-smile on her face.  You couldn’t tell if she was smiling at you or at some internal thought.  She wasn’t at all what I was expecting.  She was quite slight, for one thing.  No taller than me, I guessed, and with an exquisite figure.  She wore a tight sleeveless green top, a tight brick-red skirt, and black court shoes.  She looked like a business woman – which I suppose she was – but she could have been a model, though not in the conventional mode, certainly.  Her arms fascinated me.  They were slim, but when she moved them you could see the muscles flexing.  I guessed that that came from regular training, but also regular use.  She wore little black kid gloves which fitted her small hands perfectly.  I think we were both a little overawed, and certainly physically attracted.  I guessed Maddy’s option of telling her to “get lost” had been abandoned as soon as we sat down.  Neither of us spoke.  We waited for her to open the conversation.  She got straight to the point. 
“Now, ladies.  If we are going to do this – and until I hear what you have to say, I make no promises – if we are going to do this, I will insist on certain conditions.  There must be no hint, not the slightest suspicion, of collusion between us.  It has got to look as if you planned the whole thing without my knowledge.  And he must never know the truth.  Do you agree?”
We both concurred vigorously.
“If this condition is ever broken, you will both pay a price.  I hope you fully understand that.”
“Danielle,” Maddy replied, “it’s no less in our interests than yours.  Please be assured we will abide by all your conditions.”
Danielle looked at her for a moment.  I saw a muscle in her arm flex.  She composed herself.
“If this interview reaches a satisfactory conclusion,” she said, quietly, “you will both be my clients.  My clients, you understand?  Not my business partners, or my friends, but my clients.  So you will please address me as “madam” or even “miss”.  But not by my name.”
“I’m sorry, madam.”
“This Steve is arriving at ten.  We will spend fifteen minutes discussing his…preferences.  I think I can say I have a large range of…accessories.  The session is scheduled to end at eleven-thirty.  There is a clock downstairs.  I will make sure it is fifteen minutes slow.  He will not notice when I take him down.  He will have other things on his mind.  But we will in effect overrun our time.  You will be booked in for twelve, but you are allowed to arrive fifteen minutes early.  You will come straight down to the basement and catch him.  You will explain then and there that you discovered the text, and that you arranged to have the next session.  I will evince total ignorance of the plot.  I had no idea you had any relationship with him.”
“Agreed. Madam,” I put in.
“When the initial recriminations are over, I will point out to you two that you have booked a session and you must now honour the booking.  You will protest, but I will insist.  It’s the rules.  Otherwise everyone would be chickening out at the last minute.  You, Jacey, will ask that Steve be included.  His punishment for lying to you.  He may protest, but I’m confident he’ll have no choice.  I’ll make sure he’s suitably compromised when you arrive.”
“Thank you, madam.  And then…”
“Then we have our session.  My final conditions are that I alone will decide the course it will take, and that both sessions be recorded.  I will email you with copies the following day, or you can come and collect them.”  She flexed her muscles again.  “I think I can guarantee that Steve’s will provide you with all the leverage you need to keep him in line in the future.  Any questions?”
My heart was beating fast.  “I was just wondering what…what sort of things…”
“It’s your first time.  I hope it won’t be your last, of course.  So I will do my best to make the experience…worthwhile.”
“Madam.  I want…”
“Yes?”
“I want Steve to be punished.  Properly.  Not in his session, so much.  I want to be there to see it.”
Danielle looked at me with interest.  “I’ll bear that in mind.  Now, all that remains is for me to show you around, so you’ll know where to go, and, of course, to collect my fee…”

[krystalasbaby2017]

Yes totally different so far for this site, but it has also caught my attention.  I love to see where you plan on taking this story.

[dolly bo peep]

Sandra B,

I'm really liking this story.

I'm really intrigued with Riccardo the maid and can just image myself as the sissy maid.

I wonder if Steve is going to end up as the sissy servant of sister Madeline and girlfriend Jacinth, or as their adult baby, wearing a diaper like I am now?

I read your other story first and now that I caught up with this one, my diaper is wetter.

[Sandra B]

Chapter 4.  The Dungeon

We drew up outside the big house at eleven-forty.  The door was opened by Riccardo, who ushered us past the main staircase and along the same corridor as before.  I felt excited but a little tense.  Danielle had told us we’d be shown into what she had referred to as her “basement”, and had warned us to descend as quietly as we could, if we wanted to surprise Steve.
“The staircase has a bend and a landing at halfway.  Make your way down to that landing, and you’ll be able to look down without being seen.  I can’t promise you anything definite – one never knows how these sessions play out, at least, the first time.  Some of them can’t wait to escape.  But I’ll do my best to detain him,” she’d said.
The house indeed went back a long way.  The corridor did a sharp left turn, at which point I saw through an open door a light, airy lounge, and a long garden beyond.  At the end of the corridor, there was a large kitchen to our right, and in front of us another staircase going up to the first floor.  Underneath the staircase was what looked like a broom cupboard, with a plank door.  But when Riccardo opened this door there was a small lobby, and a larger, padded door on the left.  This was slightly ajar, and we could hear the murmur of voices.  Placing his finger on his lips, Riccardo opened the door just wide enough for us to squeeze through one by one.  We found ourselves in almost total darkness.
“Be careful of the stairs,” Riccardo whispered.  I heard him close and lock the door behind us.  But as our eyes got used to the dim light, we found ourselves standing on a thickly carpeted landing, with a flight of stairs, also carpeted, leading downwards to where a faint, flickering light could be seen reflected on the wall.  There was a row of tiny, dim LEDs at ankle level each side of the staircase, so you wouldn’t miss your footing.  It felt like being in a cinema corridor.  I stifled a nervous laugh.  We looked at each other.  Madeline gave me a gentle push to encourage me to descend.  I crept down until I was standing on the last step before the lower landing, and Madeline was one step behind me. I could hear Danielle’s voice.  She sounded as if she was losing her patience.  She seemed to be asking questions, but not getting any answers.  Cautiously, I peered around the corner.

The basement, or cellar, or dungeon, was cavernous, and the upper part of it in total darkness.  But against the far wall, two gigantic candles were flickering, held aloft on tall stands, like those used in churches.  They illuminated only a small area of the basement, but the light reflected off all sorts of things in the darkness: rows of shiny sinuous leather whips hanging from the walls, the edges of metal stands and frames, metal poles, and in a far corner, what looked like a row of vertical bars.  I took this all in in an instant, but it was the scene between the candles that riveted my attention.  A high-backed wooden throne, the back surmounted with gold finials, stood on a little dais, raised on two steps.  On this throne sat Danielle.  She certainly looked the part.  Her red lipstick had been replaced with black.  She wore a high-necked sleeveless top of gleaming black latex, and tight black leather hot pants. Her fingerless leather gloves exposed black-painted nails.  Across her lap rested a riding whip.  Her legs were crossed, and encased in high-heeled leather boots that came half way up her thighs, which were themselves sheathed in black fishnets.  She looked even more formidable than she had before.  But it was the figure kneeling before her that made my jaw drop. 
It was Steve – I would have recognised that cute little backside anywhere – but not as I had ever seen him.  His dark hair had been replaced by a blonde page-boy wig.  As far as I could make out in the dim light, he was wearing pink pantyhose, pink ankle boots, and white latex panties, with several rows of frilling across the seat.  These interesting articles of clothing were accompanied by a long-sleeved pink dress of what appeared to be angora - a mini-dress, which, in his kneeling position, had ridden up almost to his waist.  He appeared to be licking the toe of Danielle’s left boot with enthusiasm.  I took Madeline’s hand, and led her down a couple of steps.  We sat next to each other on the lower landing. 
“Let’s watch the show for a minute,” I whispered in her ear.  She nodded, without taking her eyes off the scene below.  Danielle had seen us, and she acknowledged our presence by a slight movement of her head, which Steve was far too busy to notice.
“Now the sole, please,” she smiled, tilting her foot back.  He crouched lower, but his performance seemed not to satisfy her, because she picked up the whip and gave him three hard strokes across his back, each time the flap connecting with his bottom with a crack.  Steve yelped with pain and resumed his task with renewed energy.
“I said lick it, not admire it, sweetie,” she said mildly, “I can see you’re going to need a great deal more training.”
“I’m sorry, madam,” whined Steve, his head bobbing up and down as he worked.
“If you want to be my slave…”
“I do, miss, I do!”
“Then you’re going to have to be much more compliant,” she said.
I was leaning forward with disbelief, eyes popping.  I gripped Maddy’s hand, and we exchanged amazed looks.
“I suppose you’d prefer to work your way up my boots, rather than down,” remarked Danielle.
“Yes, madam.  Yes please!”
Steve tried to lift his head, but I could see he was wearing a studded collar which was chained to a ring in the floor in front of the throne.  He could raise it enough to service Danielle’s feet, but not much further. 
“Ugh!  You’re disgusting.  As far as I’m concerned, you’re just a randy little untrained puppy.  So if you don’t want to be neutered, I suggest you concentrate on your tasks, not on my body.”
Yes, miss!  I am, miss!”
She looked up at us, and indicated with a jerk of her head that we should make our appearance.  We jumped up and skipped down the stairs.  Danielle played her part well.
“What?  How dare you come into my private chamber!  Who are you?  Where’s Riccardo?”
“We’re your twelve o’clock appointment,” said Maddy.  “I’m sorry, we couldn’t wait any longer.”
“Get out at once!  I’m with another client.  Can’t you see?”
Steve was trying to crane round, by the chain was preventing him.  However, I could see enough of his face to see he was wearing earrings, mascara, and red lipstick.  He must have recognised Maddy’s voice, and he certainly recognised mine.
“Hello, Steve.  How’s the meeting going?”
“Jacey?  What are you doing here?” he cried in terror.
“Do you know each other?” demanded Danielle.
“I’m sorry.  We do.  This is my boyfriend.  He told me he had a “business meeting” this morning.”
“How did you….?” Began Steve, still crouched on his knees.
“I found that text on your phone, so me and Maddy booked Madam Danielle’s next appointment.  You look like you’re having fun.”
Steve pulled desperately at his chain.
“Miss, please send them away!  And undo my chain!”
“You be quiet and stay where you are.  So, you two.  Do you intend to have a session, or are you here simply to observe this….this article?”  She indicated the kneeling Steve with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“Well, yes, mainly to find out what he was up to.  Now we know.  It’s quite an eye-opener.”
I walked over and examined Steve’s knickers.  “Ooh, they are latex.  And so frilly!”  I pinched his bottom.
“Madam, please.  Let me up.”
“Be quiet!  Now girls, the rules are clear. I believe they were explained to you when you made the appointment.  Once you’ve entered my domain, the session goes ahead.”
“Yes, madam.  We understand.  But we want him with us.”
“No!  My sessions finished!”
I went and sat on the step next to his head.  “Is it?  Your mates at work are going to be fascinated when I tell them what you were up to this morning.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“Actually, after the way you’ve behaved, I would.  Madam, could I…?” I asked, producing my phone.
“Go ahead,”
Steve tried frantically to turn his head away, but with Maddy’s help I got some beautiful pictures of him.
“Now,” I mused, “I think I have a few of your buddies’ numbers here…oh, and Sam’s, too…”
“J!  No, please!  I’ll stay.  Please let me stay!”
“Well, you’d better ask madam, not me.  She’s in charge here.”
“Please madam, could I stay and have another session with my…my friends?”
Danielle feigned hesitation.  Finally, she reached down and grabbed his chain, pulling  at his collar until his face was red.  “I’ll allow you to stay, on condition you behave yourself.  No more disobedience, mind.  Or I’ll have you driven into town just as you are and dumped on the street.  Understand?”
“Yes, miss.  Absolutely, miss!”
“Good boy,” she smiled, leaning forward and patting his cheek.