The Help Ch. 02

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Petra decides to save her friend from the details of her job.
827 words
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Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 10/31/2022
Created 12/09/2011
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January 11th, 2011

Dear Alissa,

This is the last time I'll be writing for a while. I have a lot more to do than I thought, but things are great. I don't want you to worry, but I just need to focus right now. Love you lots and see you next time you're in town.

-Petra

I'm glad I finally figured out what to say to Petra. I dated it for tomorrow and I'll just send it out then, but back to the training. I really need to be able to remember this.

I started to feel drowsy after finishing my champagne. I know there was something other than alcohol in there and it tasted bitter. I still taste it.

After I moved to the floor, where I suppose I'll be sitting from now on, Tom sat on the couch and proceeded to tell me what was expected of me. He went over the usual chores and cooking, but then he moved on to talk about other expectations.

"You will always be at the door, on your knees, when I arrive. I will beep once when I enter the driveway. If you are unable to do this, even once, there will be consequences. I also expect you to take care of yourself properly. No body hair, blemishes or undone makeup will be tolerated. You need to look perfect."

While I understood the need to look good, I certainly didn't think he would ever be able to tell whether or not I had body hair -- until he brought out the 'uniforms.'

He reached into a duffle bag and pulled out a pile of outfits. The first that he held up, he said, was my shopping/errand running uniform. It was to be worn only when I was out of the house, which according to the first contract I signed, meant that he'd be with me every time I wore it. It was a bright blue mini-dress that looked more like a dress a nightclub waitress would wear. He told me to try it on, so I reached for it, only to have him pull it back and laugh.

"You have so much to learn. Wait here."

He returned with a pair of heavy duty scissors and told me to stand up and hold still. I freaked, but did what I was told. He cut the sides of my pants to remove them. He did the same with my shirt, bra and underwear. I was standing there, completely exposed, confused, but mostly sluggish and drowsy.

"You'll need razors," he said, looking at my bushy pubic area. "We'll go shopping tomorrow."

I assumed that meant wearing the blue dress. He went through the other outfits. There was one dress for shopping, one for going out with his friends and a final one for when he hosted dinner parties. They were all skimpy. I was amazed at how little fabric was used.

I noticed that there was no outfit for just being here on a daily basis. I think I know why. He brought a trash bag from my room and placed it into a trunk.

He said, "These will be here when you quit, are fired, or when you begin to look too old for this job."

He locked them in the trunk, all of my clothes. I looked down at myself and realized that I had forgotten to try on the blue dress. I asked him for it and slipped the stretchy material over my head. The straps over the shoulders were normal sized, about ¾-inch across and made of the same material as the dress itself. The neckline was modest, really; just a plain scoop neck. The bottom of the dress, however, ended exactly below my butt cheeks. If I move or bend, everything is exposed.

He extended his hand toward me, asking for the dress. I took it off and remained naked for the rest of the training.

After about three hours of rules and him letting me know 'my place,' he wanted to review.

"What do you call me when you address me directly?"

"Boss."

"Yes, now what do you wear?"

"Whatever you allow me to wear, Boss."

"Do you make decisions on your own?"

"No, boss. I only follow what I am told to do."

"What will happen if you do not do what I tell you to do?"

"I will be punished or fired and removed from your home."

"Good, now come here."

I went to him. He wrapped a monitoring device around my ankle. He told me it would record my position within the house and that he would monitor it.

"Now go to bed, you're fucking drunk. Tomorrow, I'm off of work and we have more to do. We'll go shopping for those razors and fit you with a few more pieces of your uniform."

Now I have to go to sleep. This is a lot to process in my drugged state.

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4 Comments
RosebellaRosebellaover 12 years agoAuthor
Thank you!

Thanks for the kind words and constructive criticism. I am now working on a 3rd and much, much longer chapter. Coming soon, and thanks for reading! :)

sub_peachiessub_peachiesover 12 years ago
looking forward to more

Interesting...... Wanting to see more in the series. Possibly longer chapters too.

tazz317tazz317over 12 years ago
NOT EVEN AS GOOD AS FURNITURE

survival mode has to mandate. TK U MLJ LV NV

mel_pomenemel_pomeneover 12 years ago
Very nice.

This story is developing well, even if the chapters are a bit on the skimpy side. A most entertaining story, well written and showing a lot of promise. I look forward to reading more soon.

Five stars and thanks.

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READ MORE OF THIS SERIES

The Help Ch. 01 Previous Part
The Help Series Info

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