The Bamboo Ceiling Ch. 05

Special thanks to misskittymeowmeow for storyboarding this with me. This saga gets a bit darker in this chapter. And it was already a dark narrative. There may be trauma cues for sensitive readers.

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Chapter 5: Changes at Home

James sat at the dining room table, leaning back in his chair and reading his weekly copy of the newspaper. I'd always considered James to be an oaf, but I couldn't help but notice how gentlemanly he looked, leaning back in his button-down shirt with his foot crossed over his knee.

Meanwhile, I was scurrying around the kitchen wearing a lacy white thong and a red babydoll nightie. Our difference in outfits at home emphasized our different roles in James's house: James exists. I exist to serve James.

I poured exactly one ounce of whole milk into James's coffee, followed by eight ounces of freshly brewed coffee. James was extremely particular about the blend and measurements of his morning coffee. And James could tell if I deviated from his instructions. And deviation from James's instructions would lead to a humiliating spanking.

I served James his coffee, alongside a sliced Gala apple and sourdough toast. I made sure that the food was presented on the plate in just the way that James liked. James was precise in his specifications.

After I served James his breakfast I started to turn around to return to the kitchen. James interrupted me by clearing his throat. James was eyeing me up and down, enjoying my body. Even more so than my body, I suspected that James enjoyed basking in his victory. I was his domesticated little house bunny. His conquered Asian sissy. I acted like his little submissive housewife, docile and compliant, obeying his every command.

"Kimmy," James kept eyeing my body, "did you see the email from the office this morning?"

"No, Sir." I couldn't say this out loud, but I thought, 'of course not, you moron: you keep me too busy preparing your breakfast.'

James sipped his coffee. "I didn't think so. Anyway, the pandemic numbers are up again, and the governor is recommending that those who can work from home do so. The firm president agrees, and ordered everyone to work from home for the time being."

I felt a mix of emotions. On one hand, if we didn't go into the office, James wouldn't make me wear a slutty secretary uniform. I hated the looks on my colleagues' faces when they saw me in that. Though, after my demotion from James's peer to his secretary, I didn't have 'colleagues' at work as much as I had 'superiors.'

On the other hand, if I didn't leave the house, then I would be in my lingerie house uniform all day. But at least only James would see me.

"Honestly, this is great news," James continued, "driving to the office is a drag. I'm grateful for your friends in Wuhan for getting me out of my commute. Really"

Fuck James. That racist, ignorant piece of shit. The virus was not the fault of China or the Chinese populace. And besides, I'm Korean. Not that racist, ignorant people like James cared about the distinction. Despite myself, I glowered at the racist idiot. But James ignored me.

"And this means that I get more intimate time with my little secretary," James went on, "keeping all these clients happy can be stressful. I'll be relying on you to 'relieve' some of that stress for me, Kimmy." James winked at me.

I hated James for his little racist comments. I also hated James for being so presumptive about me sucking his cock--or whatever he meant--to relieve his 'stress' throughout the day. I hated myself that I let him get away with it. And I hated myself because, when and if he asked for such 'stress relief,' I knew that I would enthusiastically give it to him.

An abrupt knock at the door interrupted my fuming rumination.

James looked delighted. "Speaking of stress relief! Kimmy, I ordered some gifts for you. Go pick them up from the front porch."

Still angry at James, I took my time as I marched toward the front door. Given my current attire, the last thing I wanted was to be laughed at by a delivery driver. So I took my time, hoping that the driver would be gone by the time I got to the door.

My hope was misplaced.

When I opened the door, I saw a large, black hand sticking an electronic tablet in my face.

Shit. The delivery driver needed a signature. The driver, a black man who was built like a linebacker, towered over me. He was bald and I could see his pecs through his purple delivery uniform. He stood there with an electronic signature pad in his hand and a large box by his feet.

"Uh, miss," he stuttered, eyeing me up and down quizzically, "I have a delivery for a 'James.' Could you sign for this please?"

I quickly took the electronic signature pad and scribbled nonsensically into it. The man said nothing as took the pad back, but eyed me up and down. I waited for him to return to his truck, but he just stood there.

Of course: he wanted to see me bend over and pick up the box. Did he realize that I was a guy? I didn't look that feminine, did I?

I didn't want to give this pervert the pleasure of seeing my ass, so I tried to squat down with my legs to retrieve the box. I only succeeded in having my ass cheeks spread out as I squatted down, then completely swallow my thong string when I stood up. This only improved the show for the man as I turned around and walked back into the house.

"Took you long enough," James barked as I returned to the dining room, "put it on the table and get the scissors. I want you to see the presents that I got you."

I thought about James's plural use of 'presents' as I retrieved the scissors.

"While you're in there," James called after me, "I expect another coffee."

I did as I was told, pouring exactly one ounce of whole milk into eight ounces of coffee. I returned to James, bearing his coffee and some scissors. James took the coffee and gestured toward the box.

"Well, Kimmy, open it up. Show Daddy what you got in the mail."

I opened the package hesitantly and sifted through the shipping peanuts. The first thing that I pulled out was a small, purple, cloth case with something heavy and metal inside. Whatever was inside felt to be about three inches long.

James was impatient. "Don't keep me waiting, Kimmy. Pull it out."

I opened the package to find a small, translucent device. It vaguely looked to be the shape of a rounded beak, and I could tell that there was some electronic circuitry inside.

"Well," James leaned back in his chair, "the chastity device is smaller than it was in the photo." James looked down at my groin. The thin, lacy fabric of my thong completely covered my genitals. "But that shouldn't be a problem for you."

It dawned on me what this was. Earlier, James had said that he was going to 'take care of' my unwanted erections. Was this thing supposed to fit over my penis to keep me from getting hard?

James responded as if to my inner monologue. "Yup, Kimmy, that's a top-of-the-line chastity device. It wasn't cheap. Most of them are metal and include a small lock on the bottom. But we're not living in the twentieth century anymore. The device connects to a smartphone via the network. My phone will have the Master App to unlock it. Only I will know the passcode to unlock it. It also has a neat new feature: if the device feels any swelling, I'll get a notification. So I'll know if that pathetic little pecker of yours tries to get hard."

I was stunned. I didn't know what to say. It was bad enough that James made me wear this effeminate outfit around the house. It was bad enough that James got me demoted at work to be his secretary. It was bad enough that James put me in a slutty uniform at work. Now he wanted to take the very last vestige of my masculinity: my cock.

"Kimmy," James interrupted my thoughts, "go get me a couple of ice cubes from the freezer." I obeyed.

When I returned, James reached out and grabbed my thong on the part where it wrapped around my waist, and pulled me onto his lap. He quickly shifted me such that I was facing to his side, sitting side-saddle over his knee. He pushed my panties to reveal my little cock.

"I see that the thought of locking you up is getting you horny," James laughed at my pathetic little erection. He took the ice out of my hand and placed it against my dick, one piece on top and one on the bottom. He held it there for a moment as I softened up. I was humiliated that James was able to do all of this with one hand, as he finished his coffee in the other. He then placed the ice into his now-empty coffee cup, took the device from my hand, and slid it onto my dick in one fluid motion.

Holding the device against my dick with one hand, James opened his phone and entered a code into an app with the other hand. I felt an ominous buzz and click as the device locked in place.

"There are more 'invasive' models I could put you in, if you ever irritate me, Kimmy. One attaches to a piercing that goes through your foreskin. Another attaches surgically--we'd have to take a trip to Latin America for that one. Just be grateful that I'm letting you keep the ability to get erect at all. For now."

I gulped at that last sentence. "Thank you, Sir," was all I could get out.

James slid me off of his lap and beckoned to the box. "Now keep digging. Daddy has more surprises for you."

I dug through the packing peanuts to find another cloth case. This one was larger than the last. The contents felt heavier but softer. I opened the case to find a small collection of black chokers. There were several in the bag. One was solid black. The rest had various words and slogans on them in chrome, sparkly letters. The slogans included, 'Daddy's Girl,' 'Slut,' 'Princess,' 'China Doll,' and 'Trophy Wife.' The last two particularly stung. The manufacturing company was not above using racist language.

"I've always liked a choker on a girl. And I love it when strip clubs make their girls wear sloganed chokers."

James took one of the chokers from my hand--the one that read, 'Daddy's Girl'--and turned it inside out. I saw that there were small, metal diodes on each side of the choker. I also noticed a small black box on the back of the choker, opposite from the slogan.

"Now this is some state-of-the-art BDSM attire," James bragged. "Like the chastity device, it connects to the network and then to a Master App on my phone. I can track your pulse, your temperature, and your location at all times. The box here holds a small electric charge. So if you disobey me--or if I just feel like it--you'll be promptly punished."

I gawked at the choker. "Y-you can't be serious," I shuddered in disbelief, "this is just a glorified shock collar. They make these for humans?"

SMACK!

James's hand delivered swift punishment to my poor behind. "What was that, Kimmy?"

I yelped and whined like a little bitch. "S-sorry, Sir."

"That's better. Now put on the choker and show Daddy your gratitude for your new presents." James snapped his fingers and pointed at the ground between his feet.

"Yes, Daddy." I immediately dropped to my knees and slid the choker over my head and onto my neck. The black box felt threateningly warm against the back of my neck as I showed James my 'gratitude.'

James liked seeing me with cum on my face. He called it a 'sign of ownership.' So several minutes later, after I finished showing my 'gratitude' to James, he ordered me not to clean the semen from my face as I continued to dig through the box.

"There's one last gift for you, Kimmy," James said with a newly relaxed look on his face. I pulled out a white rectangular box.

Damn, did he buy me a new smartphone?

"It's the latest edition," James explained, "much better than the piece of junk you were using before. And I ordered it to be preinstalled with a particular software package."

I looked at the shiny white box, quizzically. "A 'particular software package,' Daddy?"

"Yep. It will automatically connect to your new gifts. The master app is on my phone, but this way I can control and monitor things even when we're apart. I'll also be able to check your messages, location, app usage, and anything else I want. And it comes with parental guidance locks as well. I know how much porn you watch, Kimmy. But with your new chastity device, I don't want your little member to get too frustrated."

I gagged. I wanted to throw the box at James's face and run upstairs.

"In fact," James continued, "now that you won't need your new phone anymore, I want you to retrieve it and bring it here. And don't open it to send out any last messages; I'll know."

I looked at James in disbelief. No way I was going to just hand my phone over.

"Is there a problem, Kimmy?" James opened an app on his phone and hovered his thumb over the screen. I could feel the black box on the back of my neck warming up.

"No, Sir. I'll get it now." Shit. His little 'training device' was already working its magic. James had won, and I was his little Asian slave by this point. No backing out now.

I retrieved my phone from the kitchen counter and handed it to him.

"Good," James remarked as he put it in his pocket. "Now," James tapped the table, "another coffee. And bring me my work laptop; it's about time I get to it."

"Yes, Sir."

"After you've done that, set up your laptop in my home office upstairs. I have a conference call this morning; I want you to listen in and take notes."

"Yes, Sir."

"And while you're up there, I want you to clean out and reorganize my filing cabinet. Figure out what needs to be preserved and shred the rest."

"Yes, Sir."

"One more thing," he interrupted me as I tried to walk away, "take the duster and vacuum to my office as well."

"Yes, Sir." Now that James--quite literally--had me by the balls, he was already getting more demanding in my household tasks.

"Actually, one more thing," James held up his finger, "it would be a lot sexier if you had a little maid outfit while you were cleaning for me. Go online and buy a couple of sexy maid outfits. My credit card is sitting on my desk. Get something quality--don't be cheap. And get overnight shipping."

"Yes, Sir."

"And Kimmy?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Switch up your honoraries once and a while. 'Sir' gets old. Sprinkle in a bit of 'Daddy,' 'Master,' 'Lord,' that kind of thing. If we're getting kinky, throw in a few phrases like, 'my white master,' 'my BWC god.' Understand?"

"Yes, my white master." I winked and smiled at James. That put him in a visibly good mood.

"Good girl," my white master smiled back at me, "now get to work!"

---

I unboxed my new phone and put it on the charger before I started browsing for outfits. I didn't know why I used incognito mode as I shopped for French-maid kink-wear. There wasn't anything wrong with buying lingerie. And it's not like James didn't know what I was doing.

As I was browsing, I found myself stirring in my seat as I looked at the models. I felt sad that, as it became more clear, I would never have sex with a woman like that. I was just a conquered little sissy.

One model, in particular, caught my eye. I found her name with a reverse image search; I wanted to see if she had any social media or other pages.

I was interrupted by a searing pain in the back of my neck.

"OWIE!" I yelped.

My new phone rang. It was James.

"Yes, Daddy?" I rubbed my neck as I answered the phone.

"Listen, bitch," James was annoyed, "I got a notification that your little clit was trying to get hard. I can see that you're doing reverse-image searches right now on your laptop. Stop. You know what you're supposed to be doing right now."

How the hell could James see what I was doing on my laptop? Did he have some kind of tracker on the home wifi this entire time? Oh no. If he did, could James see the kind of sissy and transgender erotica I'd been reading since I moved in? Could he see all of the raceplay porn? Is that how he knew he could so easily break me?

"Now close that tab," James continued, "and pick out some outfits like I asked. Next time you get distracted, the shock will be worse."

"Yes, Master."

"And don't forget about the conference call in a few minutes. If I'm not happy with the notes you took, you know what will happen."

"Yes, Lord."

"Good girl. Now get back to work!"

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Later that day, I emptied James's filing cabinets and started sifting through papers. I'd been working hard, cleaning the office; this was the last task on my to-do list. James--the lazy fuck--was terrible about keeping his paperwork in order.

As I sifted through the papers, I threw a pile down in frustration and sat against the metal cabinet. There was so much to do and I was exhausted. James was downstairs, so surely he wouldn't know if I took a little break. After I sat in silence for a few moments, I felt a violent shock rock my body.

"OW OW OW OW!" I pulled at the choker on my neck.

I could see a text from James. "I know that you stopped working, bitch. And I warned you about this. Get back to work. Daddy asked you to organize his papers, and Daddy expects it to be done by the end of the day."

I pulled the choker away from my neck as I read the message. As soon as I released my grip and allowed it to touch my skin, an even more aggressive shock rocked my body and sent me to the floor. I was curled into a fetal position by this point, hugging my knees to my body.

I heard James's heavy footsteps ascending the stairs. Oh no.

"Listen to me, you stupid bitch," James sounded furious as he opened the door, "I'm tracking your vitals with that choker. I can tell when you try to take it off."

"But D-Daddy, please, I w-w-w-wasn't trying to take it off!" I was sobbing by this point.

Another shock rocked my body. I hyperventilated from the pain.

James sat down calmly in his swivel chair. "Daddy's bitch will NEVER contradict Daddy. Understand?"

"Y-y-y-y-yes, S-S-Sir!" I could barely speak.

"Good girl." James undid his belt and pulled it from his jeans. "Now this is an important lesson for you to learn. I'm the Daddy here. I'm the dom. I'm the man of this house. And you, my little China doll, need to learn your place. And you need to learn that trying to take that choker off isn't going to stop me from putting you in your place."

"I-I-I-I'm so sorry! Please!"

I managed to move such that I was on my knees and facing him. Although I didn't intend this gesture, I was quite literally on my knees begging this white man not to punish me.

"It's too late, bitch. I have to do this. I would give you the traditional parent's line of 'this will hurt me more than it will you.' But it won't," James laughed, "I'll probably be so turned on after this that your ass will be sore outside and in."

With one fluid motion, James grabbed my shoulder and whipped me to my feet near his lap, then down such that my face was nearly planted on the ground. My ass was up in the air, with my legs on one side of his lap and my torso on the other.

"A good girl thanks her Daddy when he reminds her of her place."

"T-t-t-thank you, D-D-D-D-Daddy." I sniffled pathetically.

SMACK!!! James's belt landed across my ass.

"Count out loud," James ordered.

"O-one! Thank you Daddy!"

SMACK!!! "T-t-t-two! Thank you, Daddy!"

SMACK!! "Th-th-th-three! Thank you, Daddy!"

SMACK!! "Ffff-ff-fff-four! Th-th-thank you, D-Daddy!"

I was sobbing. I knew that I would have some nasty welts on my ass. James dropped the belt and softly rubbed my ass cheeks.

"Good girl. I want you to know that I'm not stopping because you deserve it. You deserve several more. And if you try to take your choker off without permission again, you'll get at least twenty."

I gasped.

"Yeah," James sounded pleased by my alarm, "that's right. I'm stopping because this is fucking hot. And I want to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you. Now go to your room and put on that Asian schoolgirl outfit that I like. And meet me in the master bedroom."