İçeriğe geçmek için "Enter"a basın

Lowest of the Low

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Amateur

Chapter 1 – Moving in – Sunday, November 13th

My name is Patricia Teresa McKlellan, but my friends call me “PT”. I was going through a dark time in my life. I had gotten fired from yet another dead-end job a few months ago. My self-confidence and enthusiasm were buried in a grave in the deep recesses of my psyche. The one bright spot in my life was serving an online Master in Second Life. He was warm and caring, making me forget about my real life misery whenever we were online together. When one of us logged out, the painful reality would set in again.

When I was so far behind on bills that my housemates were seriously considering throwing me out onto the street, he devised a plan. He sent me a bus ticket and an offer to rebuild me into something that people would admire. I leapt at the offer – I needed hope for a better life. Looking back, I was a 28 year old high school dropout. I was single with no prospects, and hadn’t succeeded at much at all. I needed a drastic change.

I rang his doorbell, admiring the large suburban house, the woods behind it, and his orthodontic clinic just next door. Master was clearly successful, and I hoped that he could do the same for me.

He opened the door with a welcoming smile, clearly glad that I had arrived safely. Master looked just like his online avatar – thin, semi-muscular, with short graying hair. I walked in, towing the two suitcases that held all of my remaining worldly possessions. I didn’t know what to do, so I acted in real life as I would online. I knelt down on the tile, and announced what I was actually wearing. Master enjoyed knowing. “As you can see, I am wearing a red cotton dress, and red heels. Underneath, white gartered stockings encase my legs in their shimmer, and a white satin bra and panty set cover my privates. Per your instructions, the large open grommets were installed in her bras to display her nipples Master.” I nervously smiled up at him. After a few seconds, I took a sharp breath as I remembered another one of his desires, spreading my knees apart as I knelt on the tile.

Master chuckled and smiled, pulling my suitcases into a large closet that was curiously empty other than a small dresser. “It’s good to see you Tits. We should go through a few rules. The list of rules will get longer as you progress through your training, but I will never overwhelm you. As you see, there is an ivy pattern on a patch of tile by the door. Whenever you are off the ivy, you will not have clothing over your nipples. However, you may wear knee pads.” He held a pair of heavy duty black knee pads out for me expectantly.

I nodded understanding, and slowly lifted the dress over my head, very conscious of Master’s appreciative gaze on my body. I had just physically met this man 30 seconds ago, and I was already undressing for him. That made me feel so…compliant and submissive. It somehow felt right. I folded the dress and put it in the dresser, now understanding that this is where I could change into street clothes. I took off my bra, putting it right on top of my dress. Master never expressed an interest or fetish for kneepads before, but I was willing to wear them if it helped my case. The knee pads were a stiff rubber half-ovoid shell, and a gel pad was on the inside. As I attached the wide straps above and below the knee, I realized the hidden purpose – the stiff rubber of the pads was formed to the shape of a kneeling knee. I would not be walking as his guest, I would be crawling to re-enforce my position in this relationship.

Master walked into a room just off the foyer. It had a hardwood floor, and green sectional couch was along the far wall, wrapping around to form an area which when the ottomans were in place must be a great place to cuddle. Light streamed in through a large bay window, framed by potted ferns hanging from the wall. I stared at the setup. Master had apparently sculpted this setup online as well, as my avatar spent a few hours spread eagled in his front window for any passerby to gawk at. Master continued “This is the front room – often used for just hanging out and chatting with friends and family…” I crawled after him, quite grateful that I had padding on my knees. My boobs swayed side to side as I crawled, dangling down like udders. I was quite aware of how he walked easily, and I had to crawl. My vantage point was also quite different. I was lower, and my natural view was downcast – I would need to kneel up or strain my neck to anything high. I giggled as I realized my new definition of “high” was above his waist.

He continued through a large entryway into the next room, which was quite large. “This is the dining room. The table of course has leaves to expand or contract to fit the party size.” I looked at the large ornate hutch, and crawled around the table to the turret in the corner of the house, kneeling up to be able to see the backyard. I could see a small pond and trails going through the woods.

The sound escort kartal of fingers snapping brought me back. I looked around, and Master had gone into the kitchen. I quickly scampered across the tile of the kitchen to his side and looked up at him sheepishly.

He looked smiled. “You came when I snapped. I didn’t even teach you that. Good girl.” He petted my head and somehow I felt so much better – I was loved here.

The kitchen was tiled in the same fashion as the foyer, and I saw that a tiled hallway joined the two. Master continued his narrative. “There is ivy on the tile here. You may stand when needed to reach the cupboards, cook and so forth.”

He continued into the next room, where a large leather couch, flanked by leather reclining seats sat on a hardwood floor. They were arranged to face an enormous large screen TV. The ceiling was vaulted, about 2 stories high to give the feeling of space. A decorative rail split the kitchen from this great room, ending in a large square post. As I crawled into the room and looked around, I saw more potted ferns on the post, about 10 feet up. I stared at them, mesmerized. This area was also sculpted online, as Master captured me and I had hung from that post in the Second Life game. “This is the family room. It’s also where I watch the hockey games I told you about.” I was amazed at how conscious I was about what kind of floor rooms had since I was crawling rather than walking. It really started to change my entire viewpoint.

Master opened a door, and started to walk down a flight of stairs. As he got to the bottom, he turned. I was still at the top, realizing that I couldn’t crawl down stairs. The knee pads physically prevented me walking, even for a short distance. Master smiled and waited expectantly. I turned and sat on the top step. I lifted myself up with my hands and feet, and plopped down by a step. It was a slow process, and I probably reminded Master of a 1 year old bopping down steps in her diaper, but I was getting down. I looked up at Master, and he had a grin as wide as the Cheshire Cat. Not in malice, but in enjoyment at what he was watching. I forced out a smile, and made my way down to the basement.

The basement was a large room with a cement walls and floor, with a washer and dryer set that was much nicer than what I was used to. A line was set up over a sink to hang laundry. Looking around, one of the walls was a typical sheetrock wall, not the cement of the other walls. Piquing my curiosity, I looked further. There was a subtle ring in the wall, and I could make out the outline of a door. Master headed up the stairs and snapped his fingers. I crawled quickly to the stairs, and hoisted myself up to plop on my butt one step higher. I continued up, plop by plop for step by step. Going up stairs without standing was even harder than when I broke my ankle and had to hop up them. At least I could stand back then!

Master walked to the stairs by the front door. He gazed thoughtfully at the large decorative wooden acorn at the end of the banister. And then he looked at me and smiled before looking back at the carved oak mass, and walked up the stairs.

I looked at it and my mind began to wonder just what Master had in mind for it. It was too large for a dildo or butt plug. I sighed, and turned around, sitting on the steps. Once again, I went up the steps like a baby, plopping my butt up one step at a time. It really re-enforced my position. He was able to walk freely. I had to move like a toddler.

The first room that we came to was the office. I saw it was a converted bedroom, but had a leather covered mahogany chair in front of the desk where Master spent so many hours with me online. Off to the side, an ergonomic chair sat facing the center of the room. I realized to “sit” in it, the person would actually be somewhere between kneeling and sitting.

The next room was the inner keep – his bedroom. I had wondered what it was like. An impressive bed filled the room. I looked at it in awe with a twinge of envy. That bed must have cost more than I earned last year. I spotted a discrete ring dangling from one of the massive posts down by the foot of the bed. Looking closely, there was another ring under the mattress. I thought about it, and realized that the rings would allow someone to be spread eagled on the bed, or have someone spread eagled under the bed.

The last room was a guest room. It was decorated in a subtle pink, with a stylish canopy bed, complete with netting like a fairy tale. I noticed that the sheets were all covered in ivy – it was a nice touch to give me clear direction when I could and could not take off the damned knee pads…they protected my knees, but also ensured that I would not stand, much as I may want to.

He smiled warmly at me. “Unpack, but remember when you need to have your lovely nipples in view. Then cook me some dinner bitch. We have much to discuss.”

I unpacked and made maltepe escort bayan him some spaghetti. He smiled as I cooked, and we made small talk about the trip and about his house. When I was done, I served him his bowl. He pointed and said “Yours goes on this chair.” I put my bowl on the chair, and he held out two fur-lined leather manacles. The looked so comfortable, yet restrictive. I held out my hands, and he lovingly wrapped the cuffs around them, buckling them shut with a smile. I wondered if the smile was love, enjoyment of the bondage, or perhaps a bit of both. Master clipped the cuffs together behind my back. It was just a clip; anyone who could reach it could easily unclip it. I tried to reach the clip, but my fingers were nowhere near. Anyone else could release me, but without help, I was quite trapped.

I looked at the bowl on the chair before me, and realized I would have to be eating the spaghetti like a dog eating from a bowl. As I bent over and planted my lower face into the spaghetti for the first bite, I got sauce all over. Yet I couldn’t help but wonder – Why did this feel so right? After the second bite, I gave up trying to be neat and just dove right in to slurp up the pasta.

Master and I discussed things over dinner. The chat was as casual and friendly as all the times we chatted online as we ate our separate meals. Except this time I was eating like a dog and getting spaghetti sauce all over while he ate normally. I would be a live in maid for a while. I would do all the cooking and all of the cleaning, all of the shopping and sewing. When friends came over to visit, I might be expected to serve them as a maid with snacks, or I might be expected to be extremely quiet up in my room, depending on Master’s wishes. All of this seemed wonderful to me, and whenever I looked up, Master was smiling down at me as well.

Chapter 2 – the Tongue Crib – Thursday, December 8th

I had been living with Master, and things were progressing well. About the 6th or 7th day that he was away at work, I couldn’t help myself. I went down to the basement to the concealed door. I tried to open it, but it must have been locked. I wondered what was so secret to be back there, but I was sure that I would find out in due time. It got my mind to wandering every time I went to the basement for laundry.

After three weeks, I had gotten used to crawling around the house, doing all of the cooking and cleaning in the house. It actually seemed normal to be on my hands and knees as Master walked. I had cut holes in my bras such that my nipples poked out, and sewed the edges to prevent fraying. The only time I actually covered my nipples was when I used the local busses to do the shopping.

As my pierced nipples were showing almost all of the time, I started to wear nipple rings. This amused Master. He even got me another set!

Master was wonderful. He encouraged me to keep in contact with friends and family through Skype video chatting. My contact with my family was scarce – we just didn’t have much in common, but I called my friends Sue and Debbie a few times per week. It was good to have contact with them, to reassure them that all was well and to find out how things were going.

Master also decided that anyone living with an orthodontist should have perfect teeth. Mine were anything but perfect; they were really a mess. My parents just didn’t have the money when I was younger, so it just kept on being put off. Adult braces can be a bit embarrassing with everyone staring at my teeth, but I’d seen others go through it. It couldn’t be that bad. He decided that my braces would be put on December 19th. On the 23rd, I could go and visit my folks, spend Christmas with them, then visit friends, go to a large New Year’s party, and come back on January 2nd.

Monday, December 19th

I was quite nervous when I walked into the office. I saw that I must be the last appointment of the day. I had to consciously remember when leaving to walk and have clothing over my nipples. Crawling semi-naked had become my norm.

The receptionist was Betty. She looked like a kind old lady, and led me back to a treatment room. A young assistant in a green scrub-like uniform was waiting. I was instantly jealous – her long fiery red hair was pulled up into a ponytail on top of her head, and braided down to her mid-back. It shined like a long wisp of flame. It reminded me of the tail of a mare jogging across the field. Her freckled face burst into an honest smile as she spoke in a wonderful Irish accent. “Welcome! My name is Cathy. Why don’t you have a seat?” She pointed me to the dentist chair that dominated the small room. I sat in the chair, and Master startled me as he walked in. It was odd to see him dressed in his white lab coat. Cathy held up an oddly shaped piece of plastic. It was like two C’s connected by a W. At first glance, it looked like some kind of packing material. “Are you ready dear?” pendik escort bayan

I silently nodded with a mixture of fear and anticipation. Cathy responded “Good! Then open wide!”

I opened my mouth as wide as I could, and she slipped the plastic into my gaping hole. It was then that the purpose of the plastic became clear. One C-shape cupped each edge of my mouth where my upper lip met my lower lip. The W-shape plastic that joined them acted like a spring to keep my lips gaping wide open. I had some movement in my jaw, but my lips were being stretched to their limit to expose my teeth. The effect was not far from the O-ring gag that Master sometimes used on me. But this was in front of others!

After a thorough cleaning, the brackets started to go on. This was surprisingly painless and quick as he placed each one in place, and then the dental assistant shined a purple light on them to cure the glue. Once all of the brackets were on, a wire was placed on the first bracket, then to the next tooth, clamped in place, and so forth until I had a thick wire connecting all my upper teeth and lower teeth. Cathy handed me a mirror, and I saw the train tracks marked by green dots across my teeth. They practically gleamed. I knew my face, and even I had to stare. “I think green really stands out.” Master explained. I cringed, knowing that everyone would just stare at my teeth whenever I spoke for the next however many years.

Master continued. “It seems that you have a significant tongue thrust problem. I will be installing a tongue crib to curtail that habit.” He held up a wire assembly. It looked like someone took an oval loop of wire, about the size of my thumb. They added four stripes of wire the long way inside the oval. They then bent a bit of the loop up so it was L shaped. I looked at it totally befuddled as to what I was looking at. Master explained, starting with the small side of the L. “This part will come down from the roof of your mouth. The rest of it will form a ledge on which you can rest your tongue. This will prevent you from thrusting with your tongue and pushing your teeth out of alignment.” I nodded and smiled. Master took such good care of me.

He went to work, carefully wiring it into the roof of my mouth as a long term installation. He looked down at me, and stopped, taking in the view. He even pulled out his cell phone and snapped a shot before taking out the plastic that held my lips open wide. “There! How does that feel?”

I felt around at the ridiculously large “tongue shelf” blocking my mouth. “ih feehs lih eahh somhhihg ih my mouhh.” (I feel like I have something in my mouth) As I talked, my tongue kept hitting into the tongue crib.

He looked down at me with a wide grin. “Damn I do so love a gagged bitch… In time you will learn to speak with the tongue crib. Most of my patients take about two weeks. Yours is larger than most. I figure you should be able to be understood in three weeks or so. However, you’ll have one heck of an unmistakable lisp for as long as it is in!”

Shopping – Monday, December 19th

Right after the braces and the gagging crib were in, Master closed up his office and walked with me back home. It is a short commute when you literally live next door. Surprisingly, instead of going inside, he guided me into the car, smiling like the Cheshire cat. I knew something was up, but went along as he drove toward wherever he chose to take me. He gleefully parked at a local supermarket. Of course it was packed with people getting ready for Christmas.

“Get a customer rewards discount card, then get 750 grams of roast beef. Don’t acknowledge me; I’m just another shopper.” I would need to talk to customer service, and then talk to the deli person. Both items included talking to people and I was freaking gagged by this tongue crib!

I nervously approached the customer service desk, waiting in line as the mid-aged woman helped someone buy a money-transfer. The customer stepped aside, and I walked up.

The rep asked “Can I help you?”

I tried to talk, but the grate in my mouth always seemed to be in the way of my tongue, garbling my speech. What started as a polite request came out as “Ah wooh thike a cuthtomer carth ptheth” (I would like a customer card please)

The customer service rep stared blankly at me. She was totally befuddled. I could see her mind working – was I speaking English? Did I suffer from brain damage or something? All that she managed was a politely confused “Excuse me?”

It was like I was gagged! I couldn’t talk clearly! What was I supposed to do to communicate with her? I was sure that Master was right behind me, and was thoroughly enjoying my predicament. I tried to enunciate clearly, but my tongue kept getting blocked by the tongue crib “”Ah wooh thike a cuthtomer carth ptheth.” (I would like a customer card please) I could swear I heard Master trying to stifle a chuckle behind me. That only heightened my embarrassment and helplessness.

The service rep stared at me, as if trying to read my mind. I tried to project my simple desire, but apparently we failed to connect. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand what you are saying. Perhaps I should call over someone else.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

İlk yorum yapan siz olun

Bir cevap yazın

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir

illegal bahis canlı bahis siteleri casino siteleri canlı bahis kaçak bahis bahis siteleri mersin escort bursa escort görükle escort bursa escort gaziantep rus escort porno izle antep escort maltepe escort