Sausages Backstory Ch. 13

While Mary was talking she had reached into her handbag and pulled out a key with a metal tag attached.

'You'll need this to get into the house when you come home from the school,' she said, tossing the key across to him.

'Thanks.' Dan picked up the key. He recognised it; a back door key. It's the servant's entrance for me then, he thought. Another little knock to his ego. No point in asking about his old set of keys now, he decided, including the nice chunky clunk of the car fob. Cross those off the list.

Dan realized, with a little regret, that this meant he would never get to stand on the front step, gaze about with a proprietorial air before fitting his own key firmly in his own front door. He would never again confidently turn the key, open the door -- his front door -- and step through into his domain, his man cave. Those days are gone too. In future he would be obliged to slink in through the back yard to the back door. He supposed there would be times when he would get to use the front door, but he would have to wait, holding the shopping or something, standing on the lower step behind his owner while she turns her key and opens her front door. Or maybe, she would just order him to take the stuff round the back to wait at the back door, holding the shopping or whatever, until she is decided to allow him enter by the back door, maybe until after she had herself a shower, or a coffee.

With that thought, Dan felt his cock thicken and stiffen; the humiliation hard-on again. Sitting at the breakfast table, naked, on his little metal stool, opposite her in her business suit, he felt embarrassed. She would laugh at his inappropriate erection, calling out his little stiffie. He pressed his knees tightly together to try and trap his penis and stop it rising into Mary's line of vision.

As a distraction he studied the metal key-tag. It was a bit like those military dog tags in the movies. The key ring connecting the tag to the key was a solid metal fused ring. No joins. No possibility of sliding the tag off. One side was embossed with the words 'Slave Dan' and the obverse said 'Contact Owner' followed by a phone number Dan didn't recognise.

'Who's this?' Dan wondered out loud, scrutinising the phone number.

'That's your owner: me, said Mary, with a smile. I thought I should get a dedicated slave owner phone. I've got you one of those kiddie phones that I can lock and allow only certain numbers to be called, but I haven't it set up yet. You will be able to call me and nobody else. And if your phone rings you will know it will be me calling you. You'd better answer it in three rings or else. If needs be, in case I'm away on business or something, I might give your number to Alice, Bette, and of course the mysterious Miss Hargraves, who you will be meeting later this morning. Which reminds me...'

Mary reached into her handbag again and produced a white envelope which she slid across the table.

'You are to bring this to Alice this morning. I don't know if Alice or Miss Hargraves, whoever she is, will be dealing with you. That's up to Alice. You will find out soon enough. Apparently, you are to wait outside the school principal's secretary's office door before eight o'clock each Monday morning, with your envelope in your hand. Got that?'

'Yes Madam,' said Dan quietly sensing things had slipped from a Wife/husband chat over breakfast to an 'owner giving her slave his orders for the day' type of conversation.

'And another thing. Alice told me to remind you. You are not allowed use the toilets in the school. No sneaking in to a cubicle to give yourself a good time. Understood?'

'Yes Madam.' Dan's cock stirred at the cruel and wanton removal of yet another small freedom. Mary was extending her control into his work life, on top of her total control of his home life. The prospect of no bathroom break till he got back home in the late afternoon worried him a little. Dan hadn't planned for this.

'I hope you weren't dumb enough to drink those two mugs of coffee, just because you made them? But don't answer that. That way you won't be tempted to lie about it. As a general point, you should understand, Dan, that if you ever attempt to lie to me, you'd regret it. Really regret it. Just letting you know.

'Yes Madam.'

Finally, Mary told Dan the page in the cookbook where he would find the dinner to cook for her when he came home from the community college.

Before she went upstairs and got ready for work, Mary ordered Dan to wait in the hall holding her coat and attaché case. He stood naked, the chain looping down from his now shrivelled penis, pondering the 'her dinner - their dinner' conundrum, while waiting until Mary was ready to leave. Dan held her coat over one arm, the attaché case in his other hand and wisely decided to let the dinner question slide by, after all she did say 'her' dinner. Clear enough.

The attaché case felt light. Probably had nothing in it, Dan decided --just a status thing. When she came downstairs, he handed them to her and wished her a nice day at the office, leaning in for the obligatory peck on the cheek, in the obedient 1950's housewife-style. Mary ignored him. Just grabbed her things and rushed past, slamming the front door behind her. Dan felt a little hurt, a little ignored, a little small in the big scheme of the world of business, of contract discussions and power lunches. But he decided that was what being treated as a slave was about. He accepted it as a demonstration of his reduced standing in the world of busy people, of people who mattered. A mild throbbing that set his cock quivering and twitching confirmed Dan's inner satisfaction with this further underlining of his lowly status.

Assured, by the sound of the car fading away down the street, that Mary was safely off the premises, Dan quickly rushed to the downstairs bathroom. The door was closed. It too had a keypad lock. No way in for Dan. He went upstairs, knowing as he did, that the main bathroom would be off limits too. Already he felt the pressure on his bladder from the two mugs of coffee and the large bowl of cereal. It was probably just psychological, but that didn't make the feeling that he wanted to pee go away. He'd just have to try and hold on for the next nine hours or so.

Once upstairs, Dan dressed as instructed; first the bra, or bralette. It was a soft and flimsy affair, then the 'Monday' panties back to front. Next turtleneck shirt, making sure his slave collar and wrist cuffs were securely covered. He tucked his cock chain into the crotch of the panties and hoped it would stay there. Trousers, jacket and trainers completed the dressed for work slave look.

While quickly tidying the breakfast things, he bravely decided that he could show a bit of initiative and make himself a packed lunch. He had been afraid to ask Mary about it. Too many questions makes Dan a naughty slave. He also decided that it would be more efficient to cycle to the community college. If he walked he would have to walk very briskly to arrive by eight o'clock, and didn't fancy standing outside the school secretary's office all sweaty, hot and panting.

Mary's old powder blue bike was at the back of the shed. Despite its age it was in basic running order. By bike, the commute to the community college would take ten minutes or a little more. Dan decided it was no big deal -- riding her bike. That decision - not caring about who might see him riding the woman's bike - triggered a realisation. That he needn't really care what other people thought any more. He felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Now he was Mary's slave it only mattered what Mary thought, and maybe what Bette, Alice and even the mysterious Miss Hargraves thought, or did to him. Outside of those four Masters of Dan's little universe, so what? Not a problem for him.

Sure, he thought, the basket sitting out in front of the handlebars looked a little twee. But it just the thing for holding his lunch box. Plus, there would be room for the occasional text book, or a bundle of homework sheets he might have to bring home for correcting. Once he gently perched himself up on the saddle, he was even grateful that it was a lady saddle. The strategically placed profiled slot allowed his perineum piercing, and the chain fixed to it, settle into the space provided so that tender area didn't suffer any chaffing as he cycled along. By sitting very still in the saddle, Dan found the ride quite comfortable. Lost in the moment, he forgot, if only temporarily, about the white envelope in his pocket, and the consequences that would follow from handing it over.

Five minutes to eight o'clock found Dan waiting in the corridor outside the school secretary's office door holding the white envelope in his hand behind his back. The next door down was principal's outer door. He expected that there was a connecting door leading directly from the secretary's to the principal's office. He could imagine that the battle-axe known as Miss Hargraves positioned her desk just to the side of the inner door that led to Alice's office. She was the guardian of the gate, the bulldog who controlled access to the boss. Dan imagined her to be a stocky build with a short boyish haircut, wearing a hairy tweed suit and brown brogues. He felt his cock thicken and tighten as he thought of her swishing a large cane through the air and instructing him to bend over her desk, or maybe she had a special desk off to the side just for punishing miscreants.

It was strangely quiet in the corridor. Dan was never there at that time. In fact he hardly ever was anywhere near the administration block at any time. Classes started at nine and he would normally get in fifteen minutes beforehand and go straight to the classroom or the laboratory. Same with the pupils. They turned up just in time. So only the admin staff came in earlier, he reckoned. Other than knowing Alice down the years as Mary's friend, Dan's knowledge of the admin side of the school and the admin staff was sketchy. Someone had to get in early to open the gates switch on stuff and all that he supposed, as he stood alone in the total quiet of the corridor awaiting his fate.

Dan's face coloured slightly at the thought of the coming embarrassment. He couldn't imagine that he would be punished severely. After all he was only one day into his formal working slave status. Okay, they wanted to set up the routine, probably just a simple a maintenance punishment, a token affair, Dan thought, proud of his in-depth knowledge of BDSM disciplinary lingo. Mary had mentioned the matter of his questioning of her decisions. He wondered if a cane, a belt or a paddle would be used, or the bare hand, and how often and how hard. As his cock stiffened further and rose in his 'Monday' panties, he wondered would he have to thank the administrative Rottweiler, Miss Hargraves, aka the Enforcer, as Mary had called her.

Now with a full hard on, the chain pulling taut from the lock at the tip of his cock down under his ball sac and back to its anchoring ring, Dan decided to practise some appropriate lines. As he tried out 'I really appreciate you taking the trouble to punish me, Miss Hargraves,' under his breath, there was a sudden click of a lock turning and the door to the secretary's office flung open.

Dan stared in amazement at the diminutive figure holding the door open. It wasn't Miss Hargraves. A small mousey, bespectacled, shy looking girl of maybe twenty-three, her brown hair pulled back in a modest, efficient ponytail, stood in the doorway. She was wearing a demure blouse buttoned to the neck over a utilitarian pair of dark work trousers. Dan's shock, not to say disappointment, was not entirely due to this person not looking in the least like what a Miss Hargraves should look like. No that wasn't the real problem. The real problem was that Dan knew this person and she knew him.

Theirs was a brief shared amorous history. The original one night stand. It marked the one and only time Dan had strayed a little off the narrow track of marital fidelity. Standing before him was Dan's guilty little secret from the last staff Christmas party, all of ten months ago. Admittedly, it was after they both had put away a considerable amount of red wine that they decided they 'clicked.' They had found each other while dancing to 'All I want for Christmas is You,' he jigging about trying to feel like a teenager, she twirling her short red party dress and twerking her ass outrageously in his direction. It was Dan who persuaded her that she would really enjoy a tour of the science lab, his science lab. She readily agreed. So it was all consensual. No issue there.

The tour began and ended at the first row of laboratory benches. There, Dan had lifted her onto the smooth mahogany surface, laid her on her back, raised her legs and carefully placed one red high heeled foot on each of his shoulders. He reminded her that many great scientific discoveries had taken place on laboratory benches such as this while he eased the crotch of her miniscule red lace panties to one side and unzipped his trousers. A considerable feat of coordination under the circumstances. And then he fucked her, as the song might have put it.

End of laboratory tour. End of affair. No phone numbers were exchanged. Dan suggested they had better get back to the party before they would be missed. She agreed. They did, and went their separate ways. Next morning, his head throbbing, Dan recalled the moment of madness in horror. He resolved to say nothing about it to anyone. Fortunately it appeared she was of a similar view. That was the last time he laid eyes on her. Till now.

And with all those thoughts going through his head, Dan was relieved to find that he could dredge up her name from whatever guilty recess of his brain he had buried it.

'B-B-Becky!' he managed to splutter out. 'What are you doing here?'

'Why shouldn't I be here? This is where I work, Dan.'

At the Christmas party he had been 'Mr Murnaghan.' Showing proper respect for a senior staff member, and all that. The cogs in Dan's befuddled brain were slowly turning. A horrible possibility was looming out from the dense fog that shrouded his logic processes. Surely not that? Yet why would this junior admin assistant decide to call him just 'Dan?' There was only one answer, but Dan couldn't quite drag himself over the line and accept the obvious answer. He fought on, bravely, desperately, even.

'But...but..'

'No buts, Dan. I believe you have an appointment with me this morning. That's why you are here, isn't it.'

'You can't be. Are..are you? mumbled Dan, now accepting the reality, but still trying to reject inevitable and inescapable conclusion. Yes, he had an appointment, at this exact time, to be punished by a stern and severe Miss Hargraves. Yet here, at this exact time, was the mild and mousey Becky whoever, who had yielded so easily, yielded so submissively, and had so conveniently faded into the background. And yet here she was talking about an appointment, this appointment. Do they have to be one and the same, he thought, does Becky, of all people, have to be Miss Hargraves?

'Say the name, Dan. Say the name by which you will address me from now on. And address me most respectfully. Any further hesitation will just add to your punishment.'

Dan's breathing was uneven, he looked past Becky, over her head into the office behind her. Still hoping beyond hope for rescue, desperately seeking a glimpse the stern dominatrix of his fantasies, for whom Becky might just be a junior assistant or typist or something.

'Look at me Dan. Your last chance. Who am I?'

Dan shoulders slumped, He looked down at Becky the mouse, who looked boldly back up at him, most unmouse-like. This, he had to accept finally, was no longer Becky the nobody from some back office somewhere, and definitely not Becky the gullible fuck from Christmas party night. Finally Dan accepted that he must indeed be looking at none other than Becky Hargraves. Becky was the Miss Hargraves. This was going to be painfully complicated, he thought. But another necessary and humiliating adjustment was made by Dan the slave. In a small low voice, he stuttered out:

'Miss... Miss Hargraves?'

'Good boy, Dan. Now step into the office and hand me the envelope.'

Dan, his heart hammering in his ears and his breath coming in shallow panting gasps, passed over the envelope as Becky shut the door behind him and turned the key in the lock.

'Go over to that corner Dan and take off your clothes. And acknowledge each command I give you. None of the surly silent stuff. You need to get over it, Dan. This is happening now. In this office you are mine to do with as I wish. And there is lots I wish to do with you.'

'Yes, Miss Hargraves,' said Dan in a steadier voice. He was by now, after his three days of slave training, fairly used to being undressed and naked in front of strange women who lorded it over him. But to be made undress and stand naked before little Becky, that was something else. That had to be the lowest low he could ever be asked to go. A throbbing heat grew and spread through his loins at the thought and his penis was standing strong and proud before he was even half undressed.

'I can see you are excited to see me again, Dan. Interesting underwear too. You can leave the bra on. I'm sure Alice would like to see it. Place the rest of your clothes in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet beside you and close the drawer. Then stand facing the wall.'

'Yes, Miss Hargraves.'

Becky moved up close behind him as he straightened up from putting his clothes away. He could feel her warm breath on the small of his back as she reached up and placed her hands on his shoulders, sliding each hand slowly down each of his arms, drawing them together at the back. She clipped his wrists cuffs together, gently pinioning his arms behind him. It was almost like a caress. It was a caress, because next thing Dan felt her lips gently touch his back between his shoulder blades in a soft kiss.

'You are mine now, Dan. We are going to have such a time together, you and me. Just like it should have been after the Christmas party, isn't that so?'

'Y..Yes, M..Miss H..Hargraves,' Dan managed to shudder the words out as she ran one of her hands around from the small of his back, her fingers tickling his groin then moving onto and taking a firm grasp of his aching cock. She stroked just once, firmly down then all the way up until her fingers encountered the lock and chain at the tip. Pressing her body every closer into his, her other hand slid across his thigh and took hold of his chain.

'My poor imprisoned, lover. Your wife must be a very cruel woman to do that to you.'

Dan didn't respond.

'Isn't she, Dan?'

'Y..Yes, Miss Hargraves.'

Becky let go the chain and slid her hand up and under the soft fabric of his bra and started squeezing and tweaking a nipple till it hardened and throbbed.

'I suppose she is not going to let you have any happy endings for a long time to come?'

'I suppose not, Miss Hargraves,' panted Dan.

'So you and I are going to have to resume fucking on a regular basis then, Dan, won't that be nice?

'Yes, Miss Hargraves. ' Dan could feel the inevitable ooze of precum ache its way up his throbbing shaft.

'Except, giving your current situation, I'm going to have to do the fucking. I'm sure you understand,' Becky said, rattling his chain while breathing sexily into Dan's ear. She was standing on her tip toes and pressing her body hard into his naked back and buttocks. She gave Dan another single slow stroke and brought him close to cumming.'

'Y..Yes, Miss Hargraves. Please..I'm so close..'

'Now Dan, don't get too excited. All that in good time. Let's focus on the job at hand. I'll take you and your envelope into the Alice. She gets to decide your punishment and I get to administer it. That's my responsibility, Dan. I'm the administrator, and I like to do a good job.'