My Life of Obedience: Books 1-3 by Ella Ford

Author:Ella Ford
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Second Wolf Publishing
Published: 2021-10-13T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4

Whatever it was, it began in the most mundane of places.

A couple of hours later, I found myself sitting atop a high stool at the breakfast bar in Ms. Hall’s kitchen. I was naked, of course, except for my black stockings. I’d asked if I should keep my heels on, but Ms. Hall gazed down at my painted toes with that distant, longing look and shook her head.

“I want to be able to see your pretty little feet,” she said with a warm smile that looked almost motherly. But any pretense of homely comfort was dismissed when she gently stroked her fingers down my naked breasts and tweaked my jutting nipple. “I want you to seem small and vulnerable,” she added, her motherly tone becoming predatory and sinister.

“Yes, Mistress,” I’d said, bending to unbuckle my heels.

After getting herself ready, Ms. Hall led me back through the house and deposited me in her kitchen, gesturing to the bar stool and telling me to sit down. She left me there, disappearing back into the house beyond without another word. I sighed and glanced around, taking in my new surroundings, still aching with curiosity and fear about what I was going to be doing.

The kitchen was utterly normal, barely worth describing. A sizable, suburban space with an island counter and large table, opening out onto her pretty, neat garden beyond. It was separated from the living room behind by a thick curtain that hung over a wide archway, preventing me from seeing into that room.

With nothing else to do, I tried to focus on controlling my hammering heart and reflected on the strange turn my life had taken.

After forty minutes, I heard a quick tap at the front door of the house. I lifted my head, roused suddenly from my contemplation. Above me, I heard Ms. Hall footsteps, her high heels on her stairs, hurried steps, seeming almost excited. The door opened and the distant sound of voices pricked my attention; women’s voices, friendly, warm, the tone of greeting. I bit my lower lip, still intrigued and terrified by what was in store for me, tilting my head to one side, trying to listen for snippets of words or meaning.

The voices moved into the living room, separated from me by the thin membrane of the curtain. I wondered if I should move, if I should hide. What if someone came in there? What would they think if they found me? Words began to resolve into intelligible snippets of conversation, friendly platitudes, gentle ribbing. I could make out two other voices besides Ms. Hall’s. It was obvious that they were all comfortable together. I caught hints of jokes, references that I didn’t understand but which spoke of a shared past. I heard laughter, good natured and pleasant. For a second, my fear slipped away. There was something calming about the familiar tones of women together. It reminded me distantly of time spent with my own friends, with Kim and Naomi in the life I’d left behind.

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