Denial Ch. 09

We settled into a routine over the next week, almost as if by hypnotism. Maxine would work every night, get home at about six in the morning, (sometimes later if she went out to breakfast with some of her new friends) then sleep until about one or two in the afternoon. She would awaken, ask me to make her a light lunch, and after we ate, she would disappear to her health club for three hours of lifting and aerobics. She would come home and shower, then have a drink and read. By this time, she was ready for a light dinner. She would eat, then disappear upstairs for her hour long ritual of dressing for work. Often she would interrupt me from my housework with a request that I touch up her toenails, or help her into some article of clothing. This would be done to tease me, but by the time she left at about 8:00, there would be no sexual contact. All week, all I had was my masturbation.

At our next therapy session with Dr. Gruen, I brought up the off again/on-again sexual nature of our marriage, and received an angry, icy response from the Doctor.

Dr. Gruen then asked. "Have you been masturbating?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Then you ARE getting sexual release. What else do you want? Do you want the cockcage again?? Maxine is tired from her new job. You are reaping the benefits financially, and from what you've said, sexually as well. Why are you complaining so much? Isn't this better than the cock cage?" Dr. Gruen shook her head in disbelief.

I thought for a moment, and looked at Maxine, who looked hurt. Dr. Gruen continued. "You know that if you do go through with the slave contract, the owner dictates the time and place of sexual release for the slave. But you seem to be lucky, as Maxine is the very generous type."

She then shifted the discussion. "We have to talk about your change of status, Franklyn. Has Maxine explained what the slave contract entails? That she will feel very free and will be able to trust you fully? This should improve your sex life considerably because for the first time, you and Maxine will be true partners.

I'll need you both here tomorrow morning at 9:00 am with a full accounting of your total assets. If it has to be on a list, fine. I have an attorney whom I work with often on these matters, who will be here to finalize the contract."

The session ended on this note, and we went home.

At home, Maxine undressed me. "You are really showing your love for me by agreeing to go through with this. All of the formality is really secondary to the symbolism involved."

As she got me totally undressed, she then removed her clothing. I ventured a question. "But will you quit at the massage parlor if I go through with this slave thing?"

Maxine shook her head a little, and I thought she was going to lose her temper, but she caught herself, and instead shook her head as if I were a child. "It's not 'this slave thing.' And after you've signed the contract, ask me again, okay honey. Now I want to make the last week up to you, so just lie back and enjoy."

For the next two hours, Maxine kept me at the peak of pleasure, then in the middle of it, she explained that she was tired and wanted to just go to sleep. I was crushed, but she just laughed. "Why don't you just suck my toes, and jerk off, sweetheart." With that, she kicked off her shoes, lit a cigarette, sat back and watched me lick her feet and jerk off.

The next morning, Maxine awoke, and made me breakfast. "Don't bother showering or shaving." She said innocently. "We'll do that when we get home." She dressed casually in a conservative skirt, blouse and heels, and looked nothing like the hooker she was at night.

When we arrived at Dr. Gruen's office, there was a very efficient young redhaired woman sitting with the Dr. She was pretty in a cold looking way, and dressed like a business executive. When I came in, Dr. Gruen introduced her as Mrs. Hamilton, the attorney who would administer my slave contract.

As she and Dr. Gruen were finishing some preliminary business, Maxine and I wandered around the huge living room. Dr. Gruen finally summoned us over to her desk, and we handed Mrs. Hamilton our portfolio.

She looked through our list of assets. "Your house has tripled in value, your stock portfolio has been growing very impressively. Car, cash, collectibles, and importantly, Franklyn's business, which, as I see it, could be even more profitable with the right management.

"But preliminary to the slave contract is the transfer of ownership from you, Franklyn, to Maxine. You must sign these papers to effect that." She slid a number of contracts in triplicate in front of me, and I began to read them papers, and Dr. Gruen snickered. "What are you worried about, Franklyn? Don't you trust Maxine?"

I continued reading for a moment longer, but couldn't wade through all of the legalese, and picked up a pen to sign

"Now these." Mrs. Hamilton put five other documents in triplicate under my nose, and she rushed me through the signings.

Next, a messenger appeared as if out of nowhere, and took all of the documents from Mrs. Hamilton. "Come back when they are delivered."

Then a woman with a camera and backdrop entered the room and set up. "We need a photo." I began to straighten my hair, but Mrs. Hamilton slapped my hand away, "Don't!" But when I looked at her, she softened her attitude. "You look alright that way."

Two pictures were taken of me holding an identification slate, just like a police mug shot. The photographer disappeared, and another woman came in. I was then quickly fingerprinted, and that woman vanished.

The pace then calmed down, "Put your chair away, Franklyn," Dr. Gruen instructed me, and pointed to her closet. When I folded the chair and came back, I stood next to Maxine, who reached up to pull me by my shoulders down to my knees beside her, and she then tugged my hair gently until I was seated on the floor at her feet. They all lit cigarattes, and Mrs. Hamilton began talking very deliberately.

"As you may have noticed, there was no 'slave contract' to sign. What we did is far more binding. You've just changed your life so radically, you could say that you are no longer Franklyn Vale.

"At this moment, you are being registered in local police records as a wanted felon. The charge is one which will ruin your life if it ever surfaces: sodomy of a four-year-old girl, and a string of other child molestation cases all across the country. Through our contacts at the police department, your case will be buried in the records, and won't surface unless someone inquires specifically about you. And we will only tip the police if you give Maxine any difficulty. Believe me, this is very serious. You know what they do to child molesters in prison."

I looked at Maxine, and she took my face and turned it toward Mrs. Hamilton.

"Maxine is now the sole owner of everything you used to own. This is irrevocable. You've also signed an agreement for a fictional $1,000,000 mortgage agreement with Maxine at 20%. This IS legally binding. If you ever decide to escape, you will owe Maxine more money than a person would ever be able to pay back in one lifetime."

Dr. Gruen had a satisfied look on her face. Mrs. Hamilton continued.

"You also signed a medical waiver, releasing Dr. Rekvyk from any responsibility for damage done to you by her medical procedures. The nature of these experiments can be whatever Maxine decides.

Mrs. Hamilton stopped, removed a long cigarette from a gold case and lit it with an expensive lighter. She exhaled the smoke in a long stream. "In short, Mr. Vale, your life is now in the hands of Maxine. You are, in effect, a non-person. With our help, if she wanted you put to work in a Turkish brothel, or a Bolivian slave labor camp, we can arrange it. If she wanted you dead, that would be even easier. Prison, and probable death, would be a snap. She is truly your Divinity and may choose to be as cruel to you as she'd like. The choice is hers. You are totally at her mercy, for the rest of your life."

I looked up at Maxine, who was staring at me with a slight smile. She took a drag on her cigarette, and looked at me, not saying a word. She winked at me, and nodded her head. She punctuated it by tapping me lightly on the head, and grabbing my face and turning me toward Dr. Gruen.

"You have an appointment with Dr. Rekvyk for any modifications you'd like." Dr. Gruen said to Maxine, in a cloud of smoke.

Maxine looked pensive. "Not just now. I'm going to try and think of something special."

"Then I guess we're done here."

Mrs. Hamilton got up and left, and Dr. Gruen looked at me. "Franklyn, I hope you realize that Maxine now controls everything you do. This is not a game, or a fantasy. You are a piece of property, and there is no escape, ever. If you defy Maxine, she can do whatever she feels like to you, and if you complain, we can arrange for you to wind up rotting away in some prison where you'll probably be castrated and made into a slave there or killed. Maxine loves you, and your relationship will always be a better alternative to a life like that. But don't defy her if you don't want the ultimate punishment. Don't try her patience. If you get her angry enough, she can have Dr. Rekvyk perform experiments on you that would make your worst nightmares seem tame in comparison. She can put you out in the street, where you'd still have the mortgage commitment to her. You'd have to maintain a $20,000 a month payment in order to stay out of prison. You'll never ever be able to get any kind of real job, and if Maxine gets angry enough, or bored enough, you'll wind up in a state penitentiary, where you'll really learn about servitude."

Dr. Gruen stubbed her smoke. "Now go home and ponder all of this, and above all, behave! For your own good. Maxine, don't forget, any questions, just give me a call."

We both left and stood by the elevator. Maxine gave me a hug. "I hope they didn't scare you in there. It's much less sinister than it all sounds. Those steps will only be taken in the case of someone who really rebels and becomes a hazard to their Master. But you won't do that. We love each other, and it shouldn't be too hard for you to get used to, should it?"

"How far will you take it, Maxine?"

"Don't worry so much, honey. The decision is out of your hands, after all."

When we got home, Maxine went upstairs. "I'd like some lunch, sweetheart."

It may have already been starting. I would be making lunch now.

"Come up here first, though."

In the bedroom, there was a stack of boxes on the bed. "These are gifts, honey, from our therapy group to celebrate your slavery. Help me open them."

I sat on the bed with her and began opening the first gift. It was a maid's uniform in my size. "Put it on darling."

"Oh, Maxine. Come on." I hoped to dissuade her.

"Do it now, sweetheart." Her voice got an edge to it.

I reluctantly got into the maid's outfit, and Maxine tapped the bed for me to rejoin her. "Leave that on for the day. I've never been served by a maid."

The next package was a long skinny cane. "For errant husbands, Signed, Meredith." From the therapy group.

"Interesting."

The next gift was any electric cattle prod. "Ah-ha! I'm going to save this one for special corrections."

The next gift was in a square box. I opened it, and it was the largest butt plug I had ever seen. It was the size of a fist in a pyramid shape. "I really want to train you to take this in your ass. Maybe we'll start tomorrow, okay?"

But the final gift was the one which brought a chill to my bones. It was addressed to Mistress Maxine, from Yvette in our therapy group. It was an electric branding device with an assortment of single letters for installing in the iron. The note said. "Don't forget, one letter for each anniversary."

Maxine said nothing, but suddenly got serious. Something seemed to switch on in Maxine as she held the branding iron in her hand and examined it closely. I saw her take a breath, and she got flushed in the cheeks. She left it on her nighttable. "Make us lunch." She ordered. "and serve me mine in bed . . . Francine." Maxine chuckled and kissed me on the forehead, and playfully slapped my butt. "By the way, stop in the bathroom, and put on some makeup. That should make the illusion complete."

I went down and fixed us both salads and drinks, and brought them each up to the bedroom. "Honey, I want to try something." Maxine asked.

"What?"

"I want you eating your meal over there, in the corner. Would you do that for me, sweetheart?"

I really had no choice. She could order me to do it, but it was much more effective this way. She was being nice simply to torture me. I had nothing to say about it, and of course went to the corner and began eating.

"Maxine . . ." I called.

Maxine looked up at me from her lunch, "In silence, honey. On your knees too."

She ate her lunch in silence, reading, and then sat back and thought. She lit a cigarette, and relaxed for a moment before she began talking. "You know, we could live a very normal life and still work on our new relationship, but there has to be some structure to it. I think that it would be a good idea to have some ritualized regular training sessions for our master/slave aspect. What do you think?"

I tested the waters "Why can't we just wing it."

She just ignored me. "I disagree. I think that if we make slave training a regular part of our daily routine -- as only a small part of our normal lives, of course -- then it will be more palatable to us. Do you agree?"

I could say nothing, and the matter was settled.

That night, Maxine got herself ready for work as usual, and came downstairs. She was dressed in a tight red tubetop which showed off her strong new muscles, and a pair of white leather hotpants. She had on textured black stockings and white high heels. She came into the kitchen, held her cigarette out for a light, and began moving around the kitchen. She looked with distaste at the stove, refrigerator and cabinets.

"You know sweetheart, I'd REALLY appreciate a favor tonight." She took a puff on her smoke and walked over to the oven and looked in. "You don't like living in a pigsty any more than I do, so why don't you spend this evening cleaning the kitchen. I don't mean just straightening it out, but for once, do a GOOD cleaning job, okay?" Just waiting for me to say something, she drew on her smoke, and exhaled through her nose.

"In fact, if you do a '10', I won't punish you. But for every point below a 10 you get, you get 10 strokes with the new riding crop. And if you wind up with a '10,' you don't get punished! Now isn't that fair?"

I had no choice but to answer yes. She stood in front of me with one hand on her hip, the other toying with her cigarette. "I have to go, sweetheart. But for a minute, get down on the floor and lie on your stomach."

Maxine had a smirk on her face as I jumped to the ground and lied down. She blew on her cigarette flame, keeping it lit, and then sat down in the small of my back. I was bare footed and she lifted my skirt and momentarily pulled down my maid bloomers. "You have a delicious ass, and I have something in store for it, but not now." She then grabbed my left ankle and bent my leg at the knee toward her. Suddenly, I felt a tremendous pain on my heel. I screamed, and she yelled to me. "Hold still, dammit!!"

As I screamed and cried, she examined the wound. "Stop crying. It wasn't that bad." She touched the wound, then picked up my other foot, and burned my right heel. I screamed again. "You should be thankful its not your hands. This should make your cleaning job hard enough, and give you an idea of how difficult housework really is. Now open wide." Maxine grabbed my hair, held my jaws, and forced my mouth open. She then dropped the extinguished cigarette butt into my mouth, and said soothingly. "That's right, darling. Swallow it."

I gagged, but she held my mouth and jaw shut until I was forced to swallow the cigarette butt. "Oh, I'm so proud of you honey." She kissed my forehead.

Maxine got up and straightened her clothing. "Please do a good job. For both of us." She turned to leave, and I didn't even watch as she walked out the door.

I took Maxine at her word when she said she wanted the kitchen to sparkle like a '10.' I put ice and salve on my heels, changed out of the ridiculous maid's outfit, and began cleaning. The burns on my heels made the job painful, and slowed me down. I emptied out the cabinets and refrigerator and scrubbed everything down. I cleaned the floor and waxed it. All of the surfaces were shining, and I spent an hour on the stove alone, and another hour on the oven. Finally, at 3:00 a.m. I looked the kitchen over. It was as clean as I had ever seen it. Everything shined and sparkled including the garbage pale. I fixed myself a quick drink, got into bed, and fell right to sleep.

In what seemed like an instant, I awakened to Maxine standing over the bed. She looked tired and sweaty as she usually did after a night at the massage parlor. One night she had even remarked to me, "I'm too old for this. I haven't got the energy to fuck and suck all night long. Butit does turn me on."

As she stood there, with her hands on her hips, she held a pair of wrist cuffs in one hand. I looked up at her, and she had a half smile. "Good morning, darling. Let's go down and take a look at how you did in the kitchen."

I uncovered myself and stood up, and she looked at me strangely. She took my wrists and expertly cuffed them behind my back. "Honey, do you remember what I said about regimentation, and the need for us to ritualize the slavery aspect?"

I nodded.

"One of those rituals was the maid's outfit. Why did you change out of the maid's uniform? Did I tell you to??" She was angry, but trying to hold it in. "If we're not consistent, this isn't going to work. Do you think that 10 strokes with the cane is punishment enough?" I could say nothing. "Get my new cane for me, will you darling?"

I got her new discipline cane from the closet, handed it to her, and she poked my ass with it. "Now let's see the kitchen, sweetheart." As I went down the stairs, her high heels clicked ominously behind me. I stopped before the kitchen, letting Maxine enter first. She slowly strutted in, her punishment cane tucked under her arm.

She looked at the shelves and then the refrigerator, stove and oven: immaculate. The cabinets and under the sink: spotless. The exhaust fan and all of the appliances: shining.

She smiled at me, and I beamed.

"You know what, sweetheart. I'm going to let the uniform punishment pass."

I let out a sigh of relief.

As I turned to go, Maxine stopped me. "Wait a moment. Let me take a little closer look."

Maxine then reached into her purse and pulled out a packet of white Kleenex. She winked at me, and knelled down, where she reached underneath the refrigerator with the napkin. When she removed it, she had a smirk on her face. The napkin was black with dirt from the motor. Maxine screwed up her face in mock anger. "You call THIS clean?? I'm surprised at you. Or did you WANT to be punished?? Well if you did, you win 10 more strokes. Do you have any more surprises for me??"

I could just stand and stare as Maxine went under the sink and reached up onto the pipes beneath the sink. She took a new napkin rubbed around, and came up with more dirt. "More filth??? You really don't give a shit, do you??? I should make you clean this 'immaculate' kitchen with your tongue. That's 20!"

Next was behind the stove. Ten more for 30. Then under the dishwasher for 10 more. When she was through, I had earned 70 strokes with the cane.

"Why did it have to come to this? I'm so disappointed in you. Let's go upstairs, and get it over with."

This time, Maxine led the way upstairs, and I followed, watching her strong legs slowly ascend the stairs. When we got to our room, she swished the cane a few times. "The whole idea is for us to get into a routine which we feel comfortable with. I know that 70 is a lot of strokes, so anytime you feel that you can't take anymore, we'll switch to another punishment. You just tell me when you think you've had enough." Maxine then led me to a club chair had me attach two wrist cuffs to the back legs, and then to my arms. My back and ass were now exposed fully.