Soon they were wheeling through rush hour traffic- worker bees rushing home on Friday evening to their monotonous lives. Sara wondered if any of them could possibly fathom what she was about to do, how absolutely forbidden it was. Even though she was slightly more at ease with Richard, she was still at a loss for words. It had been just an idea, a detached concept before when they had spoken of it, but now, here with him it was all too real and she couldn’t think of one thing to say which wouldn’t sound ridiculous. So she sat in silence, a million thoughts racing through her mind.

Richard sensed her discomfort and broke the silence. Just casual banter, nothing two normal friends wouldn’t talk about in everyday conversation. He never mentioned what was foremost in both of their minds and for that Sara was grateful. She was certain she would just die if required to talk about it now. She felt her tension beginning to ease with his pleasant demeanor and began to relax somewhat, enjoying the passing sights, the crowded city giving way to suburban sprawl, and eventually countryside.

The last fleeting rays of sunset had long since passed when they finally turned into the long driveway leading across the expanse of land on which lay the home and compound Richard called home. Even in the dim moonlight Sara could tell it was a lot of land and what she assumed were the kennels flanking the house to the left. Richard pushed the remote and the garage door opened to receive them. Sara had a fleeting sensation of being swallowed by a monster. Smiling to herself she felt her tension level rise dramatically.

He led her to the guest room where she was allowed to freshen up while he prepared a light meal.

�If you would like a shower there are fresh towels and a bathrobe. I’ll be in the kitchen.�

Sara couldn’t wait to shower and change after her long day. The warm water washed away all tension and she stayed as long as she dare under the soothing water. Drying herself, she let down her hair and began brushing out the long brunette locks. Feeling much better she put on the simple white terry robe and made her way to the kitchen.

As they ate Sara couldn’t help but wonder at this man. Since the moment she had stepped off the plane he had been the perfect gentleman, treating her like a princess. He hadn’t made any advances, nor had he even made reference to the fact that she had been naked under her skirt and blouse. He hadn’t tried to feel her up, or to even steal a kiss. And as her fire began to burn again her need was growing.

�Richard, I was wondering�.I mean I��why haven’t you�.tried too, you know�.�

�Fuck you?� he smiled.

�Well, I don’t know, yes, I guess so.�

�Is that what you want, Sara?�

�I thought you did. I mean, don’t you want to?�

His laughter made her feel suddenly very silly for asking. �You really are the horny little slut that you made yourself out to be online, aren’t you?�

Sara contemplated her toes, her face burning with shame.

�Everything in due time, horny girl.�

He was well aware by now that humiliation lit a fire within her and the flame had been smoldering since she had performed her duty in the airplane restroom. Now he was going to fan the flame and then let her stew all night.

With that he pulled her to the bed and, taking a gleaming pink collar from the nightstand he asked her to lift her hair and then placed it about her slim throat. He then took a small padlock from his pocket, locked her collar to a chain he pulled from under the pillow. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

�Sweet dreams, slut Sara.�

He moved to the door, turned off the light and left her there in the darkness. She felt the chain and found exactly what she expected-it was attached to the wrought iron headboard. She was going nowhere until he released her. Putting aside the burning desire his words had inspired, Sara sighed, removed the robe and climbed into bed. She pulled the soft duvet over her naked body and was quickly asleep.

She woke to the sound of dogs barking frantically somewhere outside. She suspected it must be feeding time for them. The room was bathed in morning light. She felt refreshed and well rested, but as she sat up to stretch the reason she was here came racing back into her consciousness. All at once a million butterflies took wing in her stomach and the urge to flee was nearly impossible to resist, not that she could. Looking about her she noticed a plate of croissants and a small glass of orange juice on the nightstand. Alongside was a note. As she munched on a croissant she began to read:

�Good morning slut Sara,

The time has arrived for your adventure to truly begin. In that spirit, once you have eaten and used the restroom I want you to prepare yourself for service. Don’t worry, your chain will reach anywhere you need to go for the moment. First, I want you to put your hair into two pigtails, braided if you like. Then you will put on the makeup provided to you in the vanity. DO NOT use sparingly. We are going for the overly-made up look. When finished, go to the wardrobe and put on everything you find there. I will be around to check in on you.

Master�

�Wow, I guess the honeymoon is over!� she exclaimed, somewhat sarcastically.

Sara put down the food and took a sip of juice. She was in no condition to eat-her stomach was doing somersaults as it was! She quickly made use of the toilet and sat at the vanity.

Thirty five minutes later she was satisfied that she had achieved the look he expected. The reflection in the mirror showed 2 pigtails bobbing high on her head behind each ear. Heavily blushed cheeks framing pouting hot pink lips, soft brown eyes set off by jet black heavily applied mascara, long fake black eyelashes batting flirtily under shimmering violet eyeshadow. She barely recognized herself, not having ever looked like this, even in her sluttiest moments. She had to admit though, that she really liked the look. It really appealed to her slutty desire to be anything but proper.

Sara opened the wardrobe and removed two hangers. The first carried what could best be described as a blouse, although with considerably less material than the one she wore last night. The second hanger held even less hope for her dignity. Clipped to it was a slip of plaid material which appeared to be a skirt but bore more resemblance to a handkerchief! Looking again she found a pair of frilly white anklets and a pair of impossibly high heeled black patent pumps. She decided to get on with it, so slipped her arms through the sleeves of the top, at first thinking he had given her the wrong size. Buttoning it stretched it tight across her breasts, flattening them slightly, but threatening to be punctured by her now rock-hard nipples. The second problem she discovered was that there were only two buttons, leaving her breasts barely contained by the thin material and threatening to spill out at any moment. It was clearly designed to be tied under her breasts, and she now dutifully knotted the ends off , leaving her entire midriff exposed.