Involuntary Servitude Pt. 01

"Now go get washed. I'll show you where to get washed and changed before going to bed," spoke the big, blond boss-lady. Tim rose and staggered to follow boss lady to the lavatory. She opened the door and stepped aside so he could enter, then gave him a firm shove, pushing him inside. She was still topless and Tim couldn't help from stealing a glance at her pendulous, pale breasts, despite the release of libido he had just performed. The boss lady stood outside watching him through the open doorway. When he appeared to be finished, she spoke.

"Take your clothes off. You heard me. Strip!" she commanded, one hand on her hip, the other holding the door open. Tim looked up at her, a little shocked at the order, but immediately began to comply. First his shirt and undershirt, hen his shoes, socks and pants.

"Your drawers, too." Reluctantly, he pulled his underwear off, leaving his still softly swollen manhood dangling. His clothes had fallen into a pile on the floor at his feet.

"Well," she said impatiently. "Pick 'em up!" He bent and retrieved his clothes off the floor.

"Follow me," she said. "I'll show you to your room." At the end of a hall -- with several doors on both right and left sides -- they arrived at a small room that was more suitable as a walk-in closet. Still naked, hugging his bunch of clothes to his chest with both arms, he entered, then turned around to get another look at boss lady's bosom. To his chagrin, the snide, young Alex had followed them and was smirking triumphantly at Tim's humiliating predicament.

"Take his clothes, Alex," said boss lady. And bring him the bottle and a glass to drink from. He's going to need something to help him sleep. The twenty-something bitch gleefully seized his garments and backed out of the tiny room, continuing to stare at him with a look of sadistic delight. He stood completely nude waiting for boss lady to tell him what he should do next. momentarily Alex returned with the whiskey and the glass.

"Sit down and have a good night," ordered the boss lady. "What do you say?"

"Yeh...ye...Yes, Madam, " was Tim's reply. The two females left him, closing the door behind them as they left. Glass in one hand and bottle in the other, Tim sat down with the intention of drinking himself into a semi-coma.

The next morning, Tim was rudely awakened by the startling splash of a glass of cold water on his face.

"What the fff...!" he exclaimed, sitting bolt upright immediately. The nasty young bitch Alex was standing over him holding the empty glass, a satisfied grin on her face. Her deep purple lipstick, heavy eyeliner and false eyelashes gave her both a sexy and menacing look, like a female version of the Joker. TIm knew not to lash out in anger.

"Okay, okay, I'm awake!" he muttered restraining his anger. He swung his naked legs around and placed his feet on the floor, pulling the sheet with one hand to keep his privates covered from this towering a scornful female.

"I guess I'll leave you to answer Nature's business," she giggled as she turned toward the open door, sashaying her petite, but rounded bottom in skin-tight, faded jeans as she left the room. Tim's bladder was almost bursting so he mad a dash for the little latrine in the corner of his room. About to relieve himself, he let out a howl of protest at the top of his lungs.

"What the fucking fuck...?" he hollered, staring down at his three-piece set, at this point just about ready to start peeing. His penis was encased in a short, downward-curved plastic tube about half the size of his fully relaxed member. His balls were captured and extruding from a plastic ring that had them forced up under the penis tube to which the ring was attached. The apparatus was composed of clear, colorless plastic and had numerous, small openings -- fenestrations -- allowing the captured flesh to breathe or, when necessary, be washed and dried. Still dumbstruck, he began to pee through one of these fenestrations situated at the tip of the penis tube. Then, quickly changing into his work clothes, he showed up in the kitchen, a look of helpless distress on his face.

"Okay, don't be cry-baby," growled the boss lady as she assessed his pitiful demeanor. She was at the refrigerator's open door, pulling out bacon and various ingredients for breakfast.

"Here," she went on. "Here's what you need to make us breakfast. I'll go and wake up Lola. Alex here will give you instructions on what to prepare and how to set the table. And, yes, I'll explain to you about the device. Get to work."

Bewildered, but feeling helpless, Tim went about preparing a breakfast of bacon, eggs and porridge under the authoritarian command of Alex, the sarcastic tyrant who, at 18 was five or so years his junior. From time to time, Alex would give him a shove in the direction she intended for him to o. At other times she grabbed his upper arm or shoulder to pull him away from a task that she no longer wanted him to attend. He felt he was being shoved around by a mere girl -- a catty, nasty brat.

"Do that again," she exclaimed after seeing Tim wipe his hands on his jeans. "And I'll smack a good hard one. There's towels for that. Go wash your hands and get back to what you're doing."

Tim knew to keep quiet and follow instructions. He consoled himself by thinking up harsh criticisms of Alex -- "Her spikey, bleached crew-cut was definitely unflattering," he thought. "And who the hell goes around with deep maroon lipstick all day, every day? And what's with the tons of eye make-up," he silently growled to himself, " the false eyelashes?" These same silent criticisms of her appearance also reminded Tim of how sexy and desirable she was, and left him wondering who she was trying to lure with her exaggerated, almost Halloween-type appearance.

Once breakfast was prepared, he set the table and began serving the ladies as each seated themselves. Lola entered and took her seat, giving sidelong glances at Tim smirking without comment, seeming to take silent satisfaction in his pitiful status as the house servant. She had arranged her smooth, shiny black hair into a swirled bun atop her head, leaving a few thick strands fall on either side of her face. He wondered if her exquisitely perfect facial features reflected Asian or perhaps indigenous North American ancestry, at least in part. When she became seated, each of her perfect, slim legs were revealed by the full length splits on both sides of her ankle-length skirt. Tim tried not to stare, but had to struggle to direct his vision anywhere else. Boss lady and Alex joined Lola at the table and began eating their breakfast.

"Coffee," snapped the boss lady, and Tim jumped to the task as if startled by the harsh tone of the command, pouring each a cup of coffee from the pot. Between bites and sips of coffee, the boss lady began to address Tim.

"I know you're wondering about that chastity device you're wearing. We took the opportunity during your drunken stupor to lock a chastity device on to your pathetic prick. So let me tell you what's the idea." Tim was all ears.

"We've had men work as servants here at the cabin before. What we found was that they were most -- how shall I put it? -- obedient, if they were deprived of relief of their sex needs. That included keeping them from playing with themselves. You'll find that you can't touch yourself in any way that'll do you any good while wearing the device. We intend to keep you that way."

"But I..." Tim began to protest. "I need, I mean I usually...relieve...myself, like almost every day." At Tim's age, 25, he wasn't exaggerating.

"Right," replied the boss lady as the other two females looked up at Tim, each smiling with perverse satisfaction. "So imagine how all that energy and drive can motivate you to do the chores we need you to do around here." At this point Lola and Alex chuckled quietly and nodded.

"Wait!" Tim began to protest, but quickly realized that he had no status to challenge the idea that boss lady had just expressed. "How long?...I mean when?... When does it come off? When do I get to...you know?"

"Right now the plan is never. We don't see any reason why you should ever have to...you know," she responded with finality. "Now shut up and eat your breakfast," she concluded, pointing in the direction of a little table and chair in the corner of the kitchen where he was expected to take his meals. Shaking his head with dread at the prospect of being locked in chastity, Tim slumped over to the stove, filled his plate and went to sit down.

"Can I hear a 'yes, Madam'?" asked the boss lady.

"Yes, Madam," was Tim's reply after pausing to consider the risks of refusing to say what he was told. After he had taken his breakfast the boss lady spoke again from where she was still seating across from Lola drinking coffee.

"You're going to start your work now. Alex will give you the instructions and oversee your chores. You'd better do what she tells you and do it right. She'll look for every excuse to punish you, I can assure you. She can be mean. She's always been that way since she was a kid."

"Let's go, Timmy-boy," chimed in Alex. "First you've got to make the beds. Tim rose from his seat. Alex -- who though a slender, late adolescent -- was half a head taller than Tim. She grabbed him by his shoulders, in a brusk manner turned him in the direction of the hallway leading to the bedrooms, and gave him a shove. He lurched forward in that direction, and began walking forward. Every two or three steps, Alex gave his push after push in the direction of the bedroom.

"Stop here! This is their bedroom," she declared, gesturing for him to open the door. He did, and entered.

"Make the beds nice and pretty," she ordered sarcastically. "Then sweep the room. Here's a broom, pick up the garbage, wash the dildo and the vibrator in soap and water at the sink over there, dry 'em and put 'em away in this drawer. You got any questions, just ask."

Tim was shocked that a dildo was left out in full view on the bed used nightly by the boss lady and Lola. Tim set about carrying out the tasks under Alex's watchful eye as she stood there with hands on hips, occasionally urging him to 'hurry up...ain't got all day.' When Tim was finished he turned to look Alex's way for further instructions.

"Kneel down, " she growled with a grin, pointing to the floor space directly in front of her. Then, turning completely around, she protruded her butt, clothed in skin-tight, faded, pale blue jeans, right in his face.

"Kiss it," she hissed. "Kiss my ass." As she spoke she bent slightly forward, pushing her behind so that it bumped up against his face. "You hear me. Kiss my fucking ass." Contrary to his will, Tim found his penis surging within the rigid confines of the plastic tube that encased it. Much as he rejected the idea, her scornful, disrespectful command had the effect of exciting him. Resentfully, but knowing that obedience was his only choice, he reached for Alex's denim-clothed buttocks with his proffered lips and began kissing it as Alex continued to thrust it again and again into his face.

Satisfied at Tim's utter humiliation, Alex stepped away and told him to "Get up! You've got work to do." Tim was somehow grateful for the momentary thrill that kissing the twenty-something bitch's ass had provided, but he wondered how he was supposed to deal with the erection he now possessed -- unreachable, unable to be satisfied -- imprisoned in the chastity device in which he had been placed. When he rose, Alex took him by a firm grasp of his right ear in her left hand and steered him as they walked in the direction and the outdoors. There she instructed him on the splitting of firewood using a heavy axe and a large flat stone that served as an anvil. Meanwhile his squashed and congested semi-erection throbbed, unrelieved, in the monstrous captivity device in which he had been placed.

For the next several weeks, Tim labored at and became used to one onerous chore after another, tasks that were utterly necessary to maintain this household of women-recluses while suffering the endless stifling of his sexual urgency.

(To be continued)