http://www.mrdouble.com



Subject: Re: Req: Deirdre - Slave
From: daveh@erinet.com
Date: Wed, 27 Mar 1996 00:10:55 GMT
Message-ID: <4ja424$qr4@eri2.erinet.com>

Slave - by deirdre


	I needed to ask Cindy a favor. Cindy is my next door
neighbor and I knew I could catch her as soon as she got home
from work. I went over soon after I heard her car door.

	She invited me in when I rang and I stepped into her
front hall. Another woman was there with her. She was a little
shorter than Cindy and I, with dark hair and a slight build,
almost waif-like. She didn't say anything, but just stood there.
She didn't look up at my face either. I hesitated to ask Cindy
for a favor with the other woman who I didn't know just standing
there and after a short awkward silence Cindy asked me what was
up. I couldn't understand why she didn't introduce us.

	I was in a quandary. I decided I had to break the ice
and I looked at the woman intending to introduce myself, but she
wasn't looking at me and something kept me from talking to her.

	"Who's your friend?" I finally managed to ask Cindy.

	"She's not my friend," said Cindy, "she's a slave." I
almost choked. And I think I giggled a little. It wasn't like
Cindy to joke like that. The woman still wasn't looking at me.
She *was* sort of acting submissive. Had they planned this joke?
Suddenly I felt confused.

	"A slave!? Come on, Cindy!" I managed to say.

	"She most certainly *is*," replied Cindy.

	"Cindy! This isn't funny!" I took a breath, "who are
you?" I asked the woman.

	The woman didn't say a thing and didn't look at me
either. "She won't talk to you," said Cindy.

	I took another deep breath, "OK, play your joke... I'll
see you later."

	"You don't believe it?" said Cindy before I was out the
door. "Just watch." She turned to the woman and spoke: "Go with
Joann and do what she tells you to." Then she turned to me.
"She'll do anything you want."

	"Cindy, I'm not interested in joking."

	"Anything."

	"Like what?" I don't know why I stayed and talked to
her--I wasn't getting anywhere. Such questions would only
encourage her.

	"Anything you tell her. You imagine it, you tell her to
do it, and she does it."

	"Cindy, I'm leaving. I'll talk to you later." I almost
added *when you are ready to stop joking* but I restrained
myself. I walked out and the woman followed me. I was tempted to
shut my own front door to trap her outside, but I couldn't bring
myself to do it so she followed me right into my own front hall.

	"This really is too much!" I said. I still was confused
as to why they were playing out this elaborate joke. The woman
didn't say anything, but just waited in front of me. I was again
at a loss for words.

	"So, what will you do for me?" I finally said, to fill
the silence I guess.

	"Anything." It was the first time I'd heard her voice
and it was little more than a hoarse whisper. She *still* didn't
look at me.

	"You'll vacuum the house?" I asked. I didn't know how to
get her to end it. She just stood there. I went and got the
vacuum and gave it to her. She looked a little hesitant, as if
she were trying to decide what she was supposed to do, and then
plugged it in and started vacuuming! I stood there and watched.
She was very careful and just working away! It didn't seem like
she was going to stop the charade.

	Finally I approached her and told her to turn it off.
Charade or not, I was getting uncomfortable. Even if they were
going to laugh about me, I had to end it. "You don't have to do
this: go home," I said.

	She looked visibly frightened... almost panicked. But
then she seemed to get a hold of herself and started to leave.
But that look of fright kept me from letting things go: "What's
the matter?" I asked.

	She visibly hesitated, then said "Nothing that matters."

	I still worried. "Something bothered you." Still nothing
from her. "I *order* you to tell me what bothered you." I could
play this game too.

	She *really* looked frightened now. But she talked:
"Mistress Cindy told me to stay with you."

	"But I told you you may go."

	She stood there.

	"You're free to go, I said."

	"I'll stay," her voice was soft and wavery. I was
wondering what was going on.

	"Why?" I asked.

	"Mistress Cindy told me to stay with you," she repeated.

	"You always do what Mis..., what Cindy tells you to do?"

	"I'm her slave."

	"But if I tell you to go?"

	"I'll go," she replied.

	"But what about Mistress Cindy?"

	"She told me to do what you said."

	I was intrigued. "So what was the problem?"

	"She also told me to stay with you."

	I finally understood. It occurred to me that I was
getting drawn into this game. If it was only a joke, I was
falling hard. I couldn't believe I was playing along with it.
"So you would be faced with contradictory orders."

	"Yes." Her voice was so quiet. She hadn't once looked up
at my eyes.

	"So she can't expect you to follow contradictory orders,
so there is no problem. Right?"

	She hesitated. "It doesn't matter," she finally said.

	"What's the problem?" I said. When she didn't answer
immediately, I said "Tell me! Tell me what worried you!"

	She responded to the order: "I will be punished for
disobeying."

	"But you *couldn't* follow both orders." She didn't
respond. "Right?" I added.

	"Yes."

	"So... so everything is all right..." I kind of forgot
the aim of this conversation: what was I trying to do? Discover
and settle her fears.

	"Yes." Her voice was still quiet. And something in her
voice made me hesitate to consider the matter closed.

	"So you wouldn't be punished." I couldn't believe I was
talking to this woman about *punishment*. She hesitated. "Would
you?" I added.

	"Yes."

	"Even if your orders are contradictory, you will be
punished?"

	"Yes." But that's not fair! Fair! This ridiculous
joke/game and I'm thinking of fairness. But something made me
play along.

	"OK, you can continue the vacuuming." She turned and
went towards the vacuum. "Then everything is all right, right?"
I asked.

	"Yes." she answered. Then she started the vacuum and
continued to work around the house. I watched her for a minute
and then figured I might as well make the most of it. I headed
for the kitchen and started supper. Then the doorbell rang. It
was Cindy.

	"How are you doing with the slave?"

	"She's vacuuming the house."

	"Vacuuming?" Cindy laughed out loud. "Leave it to you to
take charge of a slave and have her vacuum your house."

	"Cindy, this is weird."

	"She'll do *anything* you want her to. No one's there!
This is your *opportunity*!"

	"To what?"

	"Well, make her do *something* to prove she's a slave!"
And she was gone and I heard the vacuum turn off and they both
came back.

	"Watch," said Cindy. "Take off your blouse," she told
the woman. The woman immediately started unbuttoning her blouse.
I froze in shock, but only for a second.

	"What are you doing?" I finally blurted.

	"Having her strip," said Cindy gleefully. "And
she'll..., well you can take her and..."

	"Cindy!" I cut in. "You'd better go! And..., and *tell
her* to come with you."

	"Tell her?" asked Cindy. She told the woman to put her
blouse back on. "Won't she follow *your* orders?" Cindy asked
me, sounding suspicious. The woman had that panicked look on her
face again for a second.

	"What happened, did she cause trouble?" I knew from the
look on the woman's face that she was in trouble now. I
hesitated to answer.

	"Oh, never mind," said Cindy, "she'll tell me all about
it." I never knew Cindy could have such a dangerous air about
her. As they left, I could only describe the woman as looking
resigned.

	That night as I lay in bed, I couldn't get that woman
out of my mind. She would have stripped naked right in front of
us. And who knows what else she would have done for me. And
Cindy punishing her. How does she punish her? And there I was in
bed, getting excited thinking about it all!



