The Maid Will…

by

Karen Anne Summerfield

Writing as

Cynetta Cynthia Cynclaire

© August 2003

Part I

Maid Mandi RCMRM 48297667ONT

 

'6. The maid will be on duty 24/7

'7. The maid will wear the appropriate supplied uniform and accessories prescribed for the time of day and the chores assigned

'8. The maid will be properly groomed at all times to present a neat and attractive appearance

'9. The maid will only groom herself in the manner prescribed and appropriate for her assignments

'10. The maid will…"

 

I finished carefully rereading the contract I was expected to agree to and sign for at least the twentieth time then set it down on the table before me and again looked through the printouts of numerous pictures of maids' uniforms that had been downloaded from numerous sources on the Web.

From the hundreds provided to me, I was expected to select ten different ones: working morning, working afternoon, working evening, formal morning, formal afternoon, formal evening, shopping, outdoor and two for parties. Except for my days off, the contract specified that I could expect to be in one uniform or another all of the time, even while sleeping.

Earlier, I'd sorted them into piles for each occasion. I carefully made my selections and placed those with the contract.

To quench my thirst, I sucked on the gag, but received no satisfaction, just the faint taste of rubber. I wanted to move, but wanting wasn't going to allow it to happen – the bondage I'd been placed in after mistress returned me to her house was one hundred percent effective and inescapable.

After I'd cleaned the breakfast dishes that morning, mistress had led me to the small room adjacent to the laundry room that was designated as 'The Maid's Quarters'. There, she ordered me to strip to my corset and pin on a several layers of thick flannel diapers.

"You'll not be able to use the toilet until this evening, Mandi, so put on as many as you want," she instructed. Diapering was a mild fetish of mine, so this was nothing new. I'd been told they would be required only on 'special' and infrequent occasions. That day was one of them. Once I'd pinned on the last layer, I was handed a large black rubber panty. It's waistband and leg holes were designed to prevent leakage. Over it, I donned a very loud pair or double layered thick plastic ones with a chain in its waistband. The outside was covered with tier upon tier of plastic ruffles.

"I'll be taking you out this morning, you may dress in anything you wish. You've an appointment at a salon for a makeover." I stared at her in disbelief.

"Taking me out like this, Mistress?"

"Yes, that is what I just said. Now hurry up. We don't have that much time and it is a twenty-minute drive.

"Make your choices carefully, Mandi, as I'll only permit your first one."

At the time I had only one skirt that would begin to cover the large bulk about my loins. It was a yoke-waist, full circle, denim mini. With it, I slipped into a white angora turtleneck sweater. At least it was loose enough to accommodate the F cup breast forms and bra I'd been given when I'd dressed earlier that morning. Thigh-high opaque white stockings and black knee boots completed my outfit.

Very embarrassed by how I waddled in my five-inch heels and the crackling of the locked on panties, I was escorted to the chair by the shampoo sink. Being Sunday, at least there was no one else, but two beauticians, mistress and myself and no one was laughing or making jokes about me.

The makeover included a new hairstyle, color and perm. While one worked on my hair and face, the other beautician worked to give me a set of long acrylic nails. At the time I was placed in stringent bondage to cogitate on the contract and choose the uniforms I thought I might like, I'd not seen what they had done to me. The manicurist worked with a protective cape obscuring my vision and any mirrors I might have seen my reflection in had been covered with newspapers.

Once they were finished with the beauty treatments, a pair of wrap-around sunglasses was fitted. Their lenses had been frosted on the insides so I could distinguish vague shapes only, but no details and my hands were covered with white gloves that had fingers long enough to accommodate the new nails I'd been given.

My future mistress guided me to her car and cuffed my hands behind before placing me inside.

"Sit here, Mandi," she'd said. "I'm going to put you in bondage. It is my desire for you to not be able to move, but I don't want to hurt you. Bondage should never hurt, but only make you uncomfortable after a while." I was sitting on a straight-backed chair. She started by having me sit far back then cinching my waist and chest, above and below my false breasts with ropes.

My legs were bent back and up so that she could secure my ankles to the back of the chair in the middle then tied my knees to the top of the front chair-legs.

"If you agree, I'll be getting you a real neck brace to wear when I want you to. For now, this collar will do." It was several inches wide and leather.

"Move your hands only where I tell you," I was commanded as the cuffs fell open. "Hold your left one straight out in front and do not touch yourself." She pushed my right hand up as high as possible then tied my wrist to the back of the collar. When a small table had been moved close, my left wrist was chained to the front edge with a single handcuff.

"This is so that you may water. Open your pretty mouth," Mistress placed the sponge in my mouth, buckled the strap behind then removed the glasses.

"You are quite attractive, Mandi." She smiled broadly.

"This is the sample contract I've drawn up for the maid's position in my household. I want you to thoroughly review it and gain a complete understanding of what I'll expect from you here and what you may expect. The exact contract will probably differ in a few places as I fine-tune it. Later, I'll be happy to answer and explain anything you might not understand, but I want you to know that the terms and conditions are not negotiable. You either accept them, or you will depart in the morning.

"These are pictures of maid's uniforms." She placed a pile of papers next to the contract. "They aren't perfect and I will negotiate some of the details with you after you have signed the contract.

"From those, you are to choose both formal and working uniforms: day, afternoon, evening, one shopping uniform, one for your outdoor chores and two for serving at parties; ten in all. Understand that I may require you to be dressed in anyone of the uniforms you select, at any time, for any occasion and in any setting including being out in public." She paused to point to a poster-sized picture on the wall in front of me.

It was of a maid dressed in a floor length, long-sleeved black Victorian uniform and appropriate white apron and mobcap. "I am particularly fond of that parlor maid's uniform and you will find yourself wearing one like it with all of the appropriate underwear." She grinned, "That and the ones you pick should satisfy your uniform fetish."

My future mistress removed the pinch valve from the hose connected to the gag. "Just suck when you are thirsty."

It was dark outside the high narrow windows of the maid's quarters. I had been sitting uncomfortably in wet diapers the entire afternoon. Most definitely, I wanted to be released!

Mistress finally entered with a tray bearing water and a bowl of broth. She set it aside then stared at me for a moment before removing the gag. "Be quiet for a moment longer.

"Here," the glass was tilted to my lips so I could drink.

"Better?" I nodded in response. "Good.

"You may answer my questions, Mandi. Are these the uniforms you like?" Her finger touched the ones I'd selected.

"Yes, Mistress."

"I prefer, 'Mademoiselle'." I repeated my answer as she wished. The two piles of pictures and contract were removed.

"Are you willing to sign a contract like that one?"

"Yes, Mademoiselle." My affirmation brought a big smile to her face.

"I'm pleased. We will do so in the morning.

"Do you require clarification of any of the provisions it contains?" I answered that I did."

"Very well." She placed the soup before me then lengthened the chain, which had prevented me from touching any part of my body or moving my hand more than a few inches.

"You may feed yourself, quietly." Mistress pulled out the stool from under the vanity and sat with the pictures I'd selected.

"I like your choices," mistress grinned. "As I told you, I'm willing to reach an agreement with you on their details. We'll do so with my seamstress when I take you there tomorrow after the signing.

Mistress unlocked a door in my room and entered what was a walk-in closet. From it, she withdrew a Victorian uniform made from what appeared to be black wool and all of the white cotton accessories. "You'll wear that in the morning along with the short black boots in the closet." I was released from the chair and she helped me to stand.

" You may undress and clean up then put yourself to bed. In the morning, do your makeup like it is now. Everything you'll need is here. You will also begin to comply with all the provisions of the contract.

"Good night."

After so many hours in stringent bondage, it hurt to move. Before I undressed, I had to know all they had done to me in the beauty salon. But for having practically no eyebrows any longer, I was satisfied with my new auburn hairdo in a layered style with wispy bangs. No longer shoulder length and dirty blonde, it reached to the bottom of my ears, but had been thinned enough not to cover the five studs in my left ear and four in my right that had been punched through them as the last things they had done earlier that day.

Inch-long salon nails forced me to adapt to new ways of using my fingers, especially to remove my corset and re-lace a fresh one after my brief shower. I'd have loved to linger longer and allow the water to massage some of the aches out of my body, but the contract had specified that, 'the maid will have one shower daily of five minutes duration'. When the water shut off by itself, I was convinced mistress was quite serious about enforcing everything the document stated.

The main room in the maid's quarters is only seven feet by nine and was furnished with a narrow, iron cot, the table and chair I'd used, plus the makeup vanity and stool. Its closet was half again as large while the bathroom was even larger than it. In total, I'd only been allocated only one hundred seventy square feet of what had to be a four thousand square foot mansion overlooking the north shore of Lake Ontario.

Despite all that had happened and sleeping in a corset for the first time, I slept well and awoke refreshed in the morning. It took me a bit of time to reason that the round elastic circles were garters to hold up the black opaque stockings. I tied the pantellettes behind my waist then laced up the six-inch heeled boots. 'The maid will wear shoes and boots with heels no less than five-inches high.'

Because mistress had told me the large breast forms she'd provided were the smallest I was to display and the contract reinforced it, I had to wear the bra she'd given me, even though not in exact compliance with the period of the uniform. By the end of the previous day, my shoulders ached and protested having to bear the heavy breasts when I moved the shoulder straps into place.

Five full petticoats seemed excessive and the lead encased in their hems added to the weight of the clothing. I put on the corset cover and tied its thin back ribbons, like those below the knees of the pantellettes, below my breasts, about my waist then above each elbow. The shoulders of this were thickly padded to form spheres that nearly touched my ears.

When I finished with my makeup and hair, it required several attempts to adjust the mobcap, but it still didn't look right to me.

With my long nails and encumbered by all of my underwear, I struggled until I finally closed all of the closely spaced buttons up the back of the dress. It had a high white starched collar that seemed too tight and very uncomfortably restricted the movement of my head.

Able to use only one hand, I found it even more difficult to close all the buttons on the forearms of the leg-o-mutton sleeves. By comparison, adjusting the heavily starched pinafore was fairly easy. This covered all but an inch of the dress below its hem and a narrow gap below the huge bow in back.

"You look very nice in that uniform, Mandi," mistress complimented when I curtseyed to her in the large, modern kitchen.

She stood with a satisfied smile and motioned me to the wall mirror. "It is understandable that you might not know how to wear your cap the first time. Come over and I'll show you how it is intended to be." She straightened it and moved it further back on my head. "There.

"Now for your pinafore. Put your hands in the loops of the bow." She assisted by guiding them there. "Be sure when wearing all of your aprons, that the bow is uniform on both sides." I wiggled my left had outwards until this was so. "That's it," she encouraged."

"Make yourself breakfast while I get ready then clean up here."

I was finished when mistress came down stairs. I was given a pair of short white kid gloves to put on then handed a black drawstring purse. "A few rules when you are out in uniform then we'll be going. You do not remove your cap, pinafore or gloves for any reason other than I tell you to. You speak only to answer questions. If asked your name, it is, 'Maid Mandi', and you tell only the truth."

I was led to her large Lincoln Town car and told to sit in back in the middle for the twenty-minute ride to her attorney's offices.

"Do remember to curtsey properly," I was cautioned as we walked to the entrance.

"Good morning, Eleanor, Susan," mistress greeted the two women inside.

"Good morning, Miss Stevens." Their attention was directed towards me, but I was not introduced. I felt ridiculous in that costume uniform, but I curtseyed and forced a small smile.

"I've hired a maid and we have reached an agreement regarding her situation. I would like her contract notarized please?" Mistress sat before the older lady's desk and took six copies of the contract from her small case. It suddenly struck me that the contract bore my legal name in the introduction, 'Thomas Hardy … a.k.a. Maid Mandi, herein after known as 'the maid', as well as on the signature page. I felt myself blush and wanted to hide.

The ladies giggled as they read the last page and Susan took her stamps and seal from a drawer. Mistress signed in the designated places then addressed me.

"Sign your contract, Mandi," she sternly ordered. I did remember to curtsey. I was shaking from embarrassment as I took the offered pen and signed both my legal name and 'Maid Mandi' to the documents. While Susan notarized them after Eleanor had witnessed, Eleanor took out another file and opened it on her desk.

"Your maid needs to sign these too, Miss Stevens."

"Certainly.

"Sign those forms, Mandi." They were an application for a legal change of name to just 'Mandi' without 'Maid' added to it or a last name. In addition, I was told to sign the forms for employment in Canada along with the one to requesting resident status. All of these had been explicitly stated in the contract I had just signed.

The last document was a registration form and license application to an organization identified as, 'The Royal Canadian Maid Registration Ministry' or 'RCMRM'.

"May I be informed what this is, please?" I dared to ask before I signed in the spaces provided.

"You are a foreign domestic service worker under contract to work as a maid in Canada. Our government requires all foreign workers to be registered and licensed with the ministry responsible for their profession; in your case, that's the RCMRM, Mandi," Susan explained.

"Once your application has been processed, your employer, Miss Stevens, will be notified of the scheduled appointment for her to produce you for final processing," Eleanor added.

"We must submit her passport along with all other legal identification with these, Miss Stevens."

'What!'

"I'll explain it to you later, Mandi, unless you need to hear it from my solicitor's secretary?" Mistress was looking at me as if an answer was expected.

"Now sign the form, Mandi."

"Please, Mademoiselle?" I asked and she nodded to Eleanor.

"Parliament recently, under pressure from the United States, passed laws restricting travel between our two countries, to make it more difficult for citizens of third countries to cross our mutual border in a continuing effort to fight terrorism. They are required to surrender their documents if they apply for either temporary or permanent resident status here."

"But I'm a citizen of the United States…" I began to protest.

"Quiet, Mandi! I told you to only answer questions!" mistress snarled.

"You just signed a legally binding contract to work here as a maid for ten years, Mandi," Eleanor stated.

"My contract was for two years!"

"Unless you want to be punished, be quiet!" Mistress was firm, but calm.

"Perhaps you should have taken the time to read what you just signed, girl," Eleanor too was firm. She held up the contract opened to the next to last page and pointed to Section XII, G, Term of service. '1. This contract shall be binding for ten (10) years from the date of signing then renewable in five year increments at the discretion of the Mistress.

'2. This contract may be sold after Maid Mandi has completed a minimum of two (2) years of service.' She closed it before I could read more.

"Canadian law recognizes you only as a contracted foreign domestic service worker, Mandi; that is their term for non-Canadian maids and some other workers. In order to insure that you fulfill your contract, they have seen fit to take possession of all of your documentation to make crossing our border extremely difficult."

She returned to her desk and, after a brief search in the bottom drawer, handed me two booklets. "These may help you understand your situation here." One was titled, 'Simplified Canadian Law for Foreign Service Workers – Maid's Edition' and the other, 'A Guide for Foreign Service Workers – Maid's Edition'.

"Put those in your purse, Mandi," mistress ordered. "You may study them in your quarters later."

Eleanor handed me a copy of my contract and gave two copies to my mistress. "We'll submit the other copies to the government agencies along with her applications, Miss Stevens, and we'll, of course, retain on copy in our vault.

"May I suggest you also keep one copy in your bank's vault along with your other important papers."

"I plan too, Eleanor. Here are Mandi's papers." She laid a large envelope on the desk then closed her case. "Thank you for your assistance.

"Thank you too, Susan.

"Good day to you both.

"Come along, Mandi, there is much more I have to accomplish today." I was in total shock! I had signed away ten years of my life! I worried how else the contract I'd signed differed from the one I'd been allowed to digest?

Wearing my voluminous skirts, getting in the rear seat was just as difficult as the first time. Mistress giggled as I struggled with them.

"Would you'd like me to see if I can enroll you in a skirt management class, Mandi?" she teased.

"No!" I snapped.

"Look at me," she leaned into the car. I turned to glare angrily.

"I'm being very lenient this morning, but warn you that you are trying my tolerance. We are going to a dressmaker's so you can be measured for your livery. I have not lied to you. When I gave you the contract to study, I made it a point to say that it was an example of what I'd expect from you. I never said it was a true copy and I did indicate I was making final revisions to it. You made that assumption on your own.

"I also told you what else I wanted you to sign this morning. You told me that you had researched all of this on the Internet. It is your own fault that you did not search current law here."

"May I ask a question, Mademoiselle?"

"You may."

"When did the current laws governing my status take effect, please?"

"Last autumn, at least six months ago." She closed the door and got behind the wheel.

I was angry, but had mostly myself to blame as I'd not kept up to date on the laws and had not read the actual contract prior to signing it. She had clearly stated that the document I'd carefully read was only an 'example' and not a true copy.

"You best change your mood, Mandi," mistress calmly cautioned. We were entering a dressmaker's shop that seemed to specialize in maids' uniforms of every possible description from working wear to far out fetish gear.

Mademoiselle paused to look at a mannequin dressed in a very frilly uniform made of clear vinyl with black leather corset, panties and tinted latex stockings that mimicked sheer black, full-fashioned ones.

"What do you think of this, Mandi?" It took me aback that mistress was actually asking my opinion.

"It's more than a bit kinky, Mademoiselle."

She grinned, "But isn't that why you are here as my maid … because Mandi is much more than a bit kinky?

"Tell you what, if you show me the right attitude, I'll buy you any uniform you'd like and the accessories for it too. Now give me a nice smile and curtsey, Mandi." I did.

"Good morning, Miss Stevens," a woman of about fifty greeted.

"Hello, Martha.

"Mandi, this is the shop owner, Mrs. Wicome.

"Martha, this is my new maid, Mandi." I curtseyed politely. "I've brought Mandi to be measured for her full livery this morning."

"Thank you for the compliment, Miss Stevens.

"Marie, Tiffany, your assistance is required." Two pretty girls wearing fancy pink gingham uniforms styled like French maids' scampered to us. Together, they curtseyed deeply.

After introductions, Mrs. Wicome led us to a nicely appointed room. "Please be seated, Miss Stevens. Would you like refreshment, tea, coffee, wine?"

"Tea would be nice, thank you."

Marie took my hand and guided me onto a circular dais then began to undress me. Tiffany joined her, once she'd served. Without announcement, the stage began to rotate slowly. While the girls removed my elaborate uniform, Mademoiselle showed the shop owner the pictures I'd selected and began to discuss their details.

"Measure Mandi properly, but restore her pantelletes once you have, please?" mistress instructed. The shop girls had seen that my bust was false once my corset cover had been removed. Tiffany left me for a moment to remove what looked like a flesh colored thong from a drawer and carried it to my employer.

"May I suggest you permit your maid to wear this to preserve her modesty, Miss Stevens? I assume you will want her to try on some of your selections." I watched as Mademoiselle examined the rubber garment.

"Yes, thank you for the suggestion.

"Tiffany, I'm curious about your new jewelry. You weren't wearing an eyebrow ring the last time we met and neither was Marie." I stared at Tiffany's mentioned jewelry. She bore a thin silver ring through her right eyebrow that bore a double, silhouetted 'C' on it like a miniature signet ring.

"They are required for all service workers under regulations issued in October, Miss Stevens. They identify us to alert security personnel so we can be further checked to assure we are where we are supposed to be."

"The two 'C's identifies me as a Canadian commercial worker. Your maid will have a 'D' identifying her as a domestic worker and her ring will be through her opposite brow."

"I see.

"Yes, this will do nicely for Mandi. Proceed." Mademoiselle handed back the panty.

I wanted to question why they took extensive measurements of my scrotum and penis before they worked the very tight rubber thong into place with all pushed up and back between my legs.

"The panty is perforated so you needn't remove it to use the loo, Mandi," Marie instructed. Her accent was British, but she appeared Asian. Tiffany too had a very slight accent with a hint of French and was a very light skinned black girl with bright blue eyes. "Just move the thong aside to empty your bowls," Marie added.

Just to measure me took the two girls half an hour.

I spent the afternoon trying on a wide assortment of different uniforms that were pinned and marked for needed alterations before being exchanged for another one. Neither the two assistants nor I were offered lunch when a third girl served Mrs. Wicome and my employer.

I was redressed in my heavy black uniform while they concluded their business out front. It was very heavy in comparison to all of the others that had been fitted to me and very cumbersome to wear.

"You are a very lucky ladyboy, Mandi," Marie complimented. "Most maids do not have such young and pretty mistresses as you."

"You too are pretty newhalf," Tiffiany offered.

"Carry these, Mandi," Mademoiselle handed several bags then took me to her car.

"You conducted yourself very well this afternoon, Mandi. I'm pleased."

When we returned to her house, I was sent to the maid's quarters with orders to put the things she'd bought me away, remove my gloves and freshen my makeup. Very much I wanted to remove the uniform I was wearing and change to one of those she'd purchased at the shop.

After making and serving her dinner, I was permitted to eat in the kitchen and left for the night with orders to clean the kitchen, put myself to bed wearing one of the nighties she'd bought me and be on duty in the kitchen at six thirty the following morning.

The nightie was actually another uniform. Loosely fitted in a baby-doll style with matching rumba panties, it was thin black cotton with white lace trim and a sewn on apron that snugged to my waist when I fashioned a bow in back with the ties. I'd been told to wear a uniform of one sort or another at all times except on my free time. If Mademoiselle summoned me during the night, I wouldn't keep her waiting until I'd put one on.

"What would you consider the first chores of the day to be after you've cleaned the kitchen each morning, Mandi?" I was asked while she ate her toast.

"I should make your room up, Mademoiselle."

"And?"

"Clean your bathroom?"

"Was that your answer or a question?" Mademoiselle asked.

"It was my best guess at the correct answer," I stated.

"Very well. Never let me catch you telling a lie.

"Yes, clean the bathroom in my suite. What comes next?"

"I should begin downstairs with dusting and vacuuming, Mademoiselle."

"Not exactly, your quarters are to be made as presentable as mine then as you said."

"Mademoiselle, may I question my understanding, please?"

"What don't you understand, Mandi?"

"Shouldn't I have made my quarters presentable before I come on duty each morning, like I did today?"

She turned and smiled at me, "Very good, continue."

"Mademoiselle, I looked outside, but there is no newspaper?"

"And you expected to find one there? Why?"

"It is normal in the United States for…"

"You are not in the United States; you're in Canada now. In the future, I do not wish to hear you tell me of differences in the cultures and make comparisons between the two countries."

"Yes, Mademoiselle."

Over the next two weeks, I was kept busy with chores or serving her almost fourteen hours every day, from six thirty every morning until after ten at night. The only breaks in my chores were when I had to change to an afternoon uniform between noon and twelve thirty and change again between four thirty and five fifteen.

Despite the schedule, I managed during those weeks to read the contract I had signed, but I didn't get to read the two booklets I'd been given at the lawyer's office until the end of those weeks when Mademoiselle excused me from chores while she went out for an appointment.

The 'Guide for Foreign Domestic Service Workers – Maids' Edition' explained my situation in very easy to understand terms and 'Simplified Canadian Law for Foreign Domestic Service Workers – Maids' Edition' backed it up with excerpts from the applicable laws.

Maids were required to register with the RCMRM, as I had been told. What shocked me was all that was involved to be legally registered and work as a maid in Canada. I already knew about the eyebrow ring from Marie and Tiffany, but not that I'd be implanted with two chips, a thing called an RFID (Radio Frequency Identifier) and another that worked with the GPS (Global Positioning Satellite) system. I was going to have to have two tattoos; one was more decorative and would be done at the top of my derriere and the other behind my upper lip.

In addition to the eyebrow ring, the upper part of my left ear was to be pierced and fitted with a symbolic maid and my ring finger was going to be fitted with a ring cross-pinned through the flesh to make it permanent.

When processed for my identification card and domestic passport, I was going to be photographed, finger printed, lip printed and have retina scans taken, as well as, dental x-rays and blood drawn to establish a DNA signature for my records. The Canadian government seemed quite serious about establishing the identity of the foreign domestic service workers.

'Maids cannot transfer their residence nor obtain any other legal employment in Canada without permission from their contract employer and a transfer permit from the Provincial RCMRM. Travel outside of their registered province, on a commercial airline or long distance train travel must be accompanied by an MMTP (Maid Ministry Travel Permit) and a domestic visa. MMTP's may be obtained only by the contract owner from the local RCMRM offices.'

As I read more, the reality of just why the two shop girls had measured my loins so carefully, hit home.

I was about to skip the section titled 'Maids and Pregnancy' because it wasn't applicable to me, when a few words near the end caught my eye. 'All contract maids are strictly forbidden from becoming pregnant. The contract owner must post a ten thousand dollar ($10,000) bond to be used for their maid's abortion and sterilization and the costs associated with the auction of her contract in the event that she becomes pregnant. The maid must be produced at RCMRM laboratory every ninety days for a pregnancy test.

'Should a test be positive, a second test will be performed no less than eighteen nor more than twenty-four hours after a positive test is reported. Two consecutive positive tests are prima facie evidence that the maid is pregnant and will result in her arrest. The contract owner's bond with be forfeited, the fetus aborted and the maid sterilized in an expeditious manner. Her contract will then be extended by ten years and advertised for auction, with no reserve bid, providing all expenses are paid. Only bidders who will accept a maid for deportation and pay her travel expenses are eligible to bid. Bids from the USA, UK, Ireland, New Zealand and Australia are ineligible.

'Failure to have the maid tested, as required, will be evidence that she is pregnant. The contract holder will be granted ninety-six hours to prove that she is not at the owner's expense.

'Contract owners who have had a maid with a positive pregnancy test are forbidden from contracting another maid for a period of five years.

'To prevent the pregnancy of contracted maids and the serious consequences of this, many contract holders fit their maids with highly effective, modern chastity belts. The RCMRM highly recommends that this be done. Chastity belting of maids does not negate the requirements for the maid's periodic pregnancy tests, it is only recommended as effective insurance to protect the contract holder's investment.'

Continuing further in the guidebook, I read that telephone access by maids was very restricted to prevent us from running up huge phone bills to our families and that access to the Internet was also highly restricted; both required that our contract owners obtain permits from the RCMRM. To drive a motor vehicle required a chauffeuse license, as well as a vehicle specific permit.

The 'Compensation and Banking' added still more restrictions.

'The minimum wage for contract maids (by that point in the book, they stopped using the term 'foreign domestic service workers' completely) is based on the average daily wages, for the calendar year preceding the previous one, of contracted foreign maids in Hong Kong, Kuala Lumpur, Riyadh, Burundi and Singapore multiplied by four and converted to Canadian dollars. This means that their wages for 2011 will be used as the base to calculate their wages in calendar year 2013.'

The booklet showed how the wages were calculated by dividing the total reported wages in each of those five cities by the number of registered and contracted maids and three hundred forty-five days worked in a year then adding these averages and dividing by five, multiplying by four and expressing the answer in Canadian dollars. I briefly questioned where they concluded only three hundred forty-five days in a year, but reasoned that days off were unpaid. The minimum weekly wage two years prior to when I signed my contract was only ninety-one dollars seventeen cents Canadian! I'd worked one hundred ninety-seven hours over the previous two weeks. This equated to my gross pay being less than ninety-three cents an hour! In United States dollars, I was being paid only about sixty-one cents an hour – gross!

It was recommended to contract holders that the maid's wages be deposited directly into a registered account at the RCMRM's bank. The RCMRM offered all the record keeping and reporting at no charge to the contract holders. The contracted maid would be issued a debit card that was recognized at all establishments in her registered province. (To use it outside of Ontario required that Mademoiselle obtain a different debit card and both a travel permit and domestic visa for me.) I'd learn about the fees later.

'The maid will, most probably, be required to do shopping for her contract holder. For this, it is recommended that contract holders use cash and require their maids to account for every cent with register receipts.

'It is strongly urged that maids do not carry any cash of their own to prevent them from engaging in unauthorized activities or purchasing illegal contraband – their debit cards are sufficient and allow for tracking their activities and purchases.'

I read more – 'The RCMRM is solely funded by the contracted maids, not the contract owners or other Canadian citizens. For calendar year 2013 the deduction rate is 42.3% (forty-two point three percent) of the maid's gross wages.' I would be netting fifty-two cents an hour; less than forty-five cents US at the then current exchange rate – a whopping forty-six US dollars a week!

"You don't look very happy, Mandi," Mademoiselle observed when I opened the door upon her return with a proper curtsey.

"I gave you the afternoon off, so what is your bitch?" she was straight to the point. "Complain if you think it might help."

"I read the handbook ... Guidebook for maids, Mademoiselle."

"So? I made a point of telling you to, prior to your arrival." She turned and lightly took hold of my wrists.

"Mandi, I told you, straight off, I wanted a live-in, full-time, T girl maid. Once you had expressed a high degree of interest, I also told you to research this thoroughly then decide. Today, we both know you did not follow my advice.

"All the laws and even the guide books you were given after you signed your contract were available to you before you came here."

"Yes, Mademoiselle and I did not do as you suggested. Still, it's not fair."

"What isn't fair – the rules and regulations the government has imposed on maids?"

"Yes. Why is our wage based on what maids are paid in Burundi and other Asian cities, as just one example. Why are we required to be tattooed and wear body jewelry?" I was feeling sorry for myself and quite hopeless.

"Come in the kitchen, Mandi." When we'd walked there, she offered me a seat at the table and sat opposite.

"Most of the maids working here come from third world countries, just as they do in Singapore, Hong Kong and the other places. Very, very few come from more civilized countries. I had to obtain a special permit to hire a United States citizen as my maid.

"Almost all of the women working as maids in other countries and here in Canada come from very poor backgrounds and are earning a small fortune in comparison to what their families earn at home. Here, maids are paid a minimum of four times what they are in the countries used to compute your wages. Granted, our cost of living is considerably higher, but maids have all of their needs provided for by their employers and the government. You are being paid more than enough to spend on your entertainment and other desires."

"Based on what I read, after deductions, I'm being paid only forty-five cents an hour US." I protested. "The minimum wage there hasn't been that low since World War Two and that ended seventy years ago!"

Mademoiselle glared angrily at me for a moment. "I told you that I did not wish to hear you tell me comparisons to the United States.

"Get my purse, Mandi." I rose, curtseyed and retrieved it from the table in the front hallway.

"Sit down," she ordered, after my curtsey.

"This is for you." I was handed a paper with an embossed seal. I read that the document was a court order changing my name to, 'Mandi'.

"I placed a copy of that in my bank deposit box and at my solicitor's. The court will send another to the United States Department of State and the RCMRM."

"Thank you, but how could this be done without my attendance? In the…" I stopped myself from stating the procedure in my country.

"You are a foreign domestic service worker. Our laws do not require your presence." I felt like I'd been demoted to a second-class citizen.

"This is a copy of the banking deposit of your wages." The paper showed the opening of an account with the Maids Registration Ministry's bank under Mademoiselle's name for her maid, Mandi. "Your pay has been set up to be automatically deposited weekly and I will be holding one week before it is deposited.

'Maid Mandi 48297667ONT ~ 29 March 2015 10:36

'Deposit – weekly wages … $95.43

'Bank fee … -$5.00

'Opening fee … -$25.00

'RCMRM deduction@ 46.8% … -$50.77

Closing Balance … $20.77

Current interest rate is 1.49%

Interest earned to date … $0.00

 

"That's it? Only twenty dollars and change?" I felt like crying.

"Yes," was her terse reply.

"You will be issued your debit card next Tuesday when I must take you to Toronto to be registered, Mandi.

"You will be given a transaction statement each week after the transfer of your wages into your account. Keep your balance constantly in mind so you do not overdraw your account. The larger establishments will check that you have sufficient funds to cover the intended purchases, but even though it is 2015, many of the smaller ones do not. The fee for overdrawing is sixty dollars and you will be charged interest at twenty-five percent annually and compounded daily until the balance in the account is positive."

I changed the subject, "Mademoiselle, I don't understand why I have to be tattooed and wear permanent jewelry…"

She didn't let me finish. "I explained that most of the maids here are from extremely poor backgrounds, many of them would do just about anything to have extra money to send home to their families. Be happy that it is only tattoos you will be getting. When Parliament was debating the laws to control foreign service workers, one ultra conservative member actually tried to have all of you branded.

"After the terrorist attacks in 2008, when al-qaida destroyed the Statue of Liberty, the Golden Gate Bridge, the Grand Coolie Dam, as well as, leveling the CN Tower in Toronto in retaliation for your CIA finally killing Bin Laden, some of those who attacked the United States were traced back here to Canada and an estimated fifty-one contract maids, Muslims from Indonesia, blew up the CN Tower.

"Those maids with explosives under their garments joined hands around one of the main support structures at the base of the tower and blew themselves up

"In an effort to prevent any of you from thinking you could get away with another stunt like that, the laws to visibly identify all of you were created and Parliament decided to severely restrict what activities you may engage in.

"Did you read that no more than five contract maids are permitted be in any gathering within ten square meters anywhere in Canada?" I hadn't, but it didn't matter.

"I read that I can't use the phone for long distance calls or use the Internet and that I can't travel long distances or outside of Ontario without permits, Mademoiselle."

"That's correct. To use the phones here, you must input a personal identity code. It's a royal pain in our arses to have to do so, but it's a price we pay for our security.

"The performance of your chores does not require you to use the phone at this time. You are here to work as my maid under the terms and conditions of our contract. If I deem it appropriate for you to travel or increase your access to communications, I will obtain the permits so that you can, Mandi. I didn't write these laws and I do not agree with all of them, but I will obey them."

Tuesday, Mademoiselle came in my room early, before I was to be on duty. "Good morning, Mandi.

"Sit and finish your makeup, I just want to make sure you look your best when I take you to Toronto to be registered." About half of my new uniforms had been delivered the previous afternoon and I'd been told to wear the new black French maid one. Being taffeta and having a nine layered petticoat sewn under its abbreviated skirt. My uniform rustled loudly - it was so short, it didn't cover the ruffled panties that went with it.

"Wear your long white satin gloves," Mademoiselle instructed after I'd pinned on the headpiece and stood.

Wearing seamed black net tights and seven-inch, black ankle-strapped pumps, I felt very exposed as we waited on the crowded platform with hundreds of commuters for the GO train.

"It's unlikely that there will be enough seats, Mandi. If you are seated and there are no more available, it is considered very rude for maids to not vacate their seat."

"Yes, Mademoiselle," I acknowledged the newest addition to what was either required or expected behavior for a maid. Mistress had been briefing me on my conduct before that morning, as it was the first time I'd been out of her house since I'd been measured for the livery.

As expected, there were no empty seats for me along with several other maids and dozens of others, including Mademoiselle.

The Toronto offices for the Royal Canadian Maids Registration Ministry were located only several blocks from Union Station and Mademoiselle elected to walk. I certainly wasn't the only maid on the streets, but I was the only one uniformed in such an attention getting fashion. Once inside the facility, I saw that many others wore French styled ones, albeit theirs were pastel pink and they were commercial maids, employed by the RCMRM as attendants. One of them introduced herself when we entered the lobby.

"Good morning, mistress," she curtseyed with a pretty smile. "My name is Janine. How might I serve you this morning?"

"Hello, Janine," Mademoiselle said. "I received notification to bring my maid this morning so that she can be registered."

"Certainly, mistress. May I please see the notice you were sent?" Mademoiselle took it out and passed it to Janine.

"Please come with me?" She led us to the bank of elevators. On the top floor, we entered an elegantly appointed office and were escorted to the counter as two others uniformed like Janine joined.

"Jeanette, Carole, this is Mistress Stevens."

"Mistress Stevens, these maids will attend to your every desire while your maid is being processed. This will take approximately three hours. "Please enjoy yourself while you wait."

Janine turned to me when we straightened from our curtseys. "Please come with me, Mandi." We re-entered another elevator.

"That's a very pretty uniform. You are lucky to have such a generous and pretty mistress." Janine complimented me.

"Thank you," I said for want of anything better.

"We do not see too many Caucasian maids." Janine appeared to be Asian Indian. "May I ask what country you are from?"

"The United States, New Jersey."

"Oh wow, you are a really rare bird! I've been here three years and you are the first American maid I've even heard of."

We exited into what looked like a medical complex. "This is where most of the things will be done to process you this morning, Mandi." I was led to a cubical where one, uniformed as a nurse, was waiting.

"When you come for your quarterly pregnancy tests, this is where they'll be done," I was told.

"Arla, this is maid Mandi – initial registration." Janine told the nurse.

"Hi, Mandi," she smiled and handed me a cup then opened a curtain.

"We need a urine sample, to start." She pointed to a commode.

"Here, with both of you watching?" I was startled by what was expected.

"Yes here," Arla pointed to a commode again. "Some maids tried to bring samples from other girls to avoid testing positive. As a result, two witnesses are now required. Please sit and fill the cup." Janine crouched between my legs as I reached to lower my panties and she pulled them to my knees before I could stop her.

Though she giggled when my rubber thong was exposed, neither of them commented. I felt my face flush with embarrassment. I have to wear it all the times and peed through the holes provided.

Janine wiped me and gave me a questioning look after feeling my sex, but made no comment.

Arla drew several vials of blood and I was escorted deeper into the complex.

"These are full size examples of the tattoos for our backs." Under the glassed topped counter were a dozen black designs, five to eight inches wide and varying from one to four inches high. "Give me an honest answer please, Mandi, are you still a ladyboy?" I nodded, embarrassed that she knew.

"Most of the maids may pick which design is to be applied. Because of what is in your panties, this is the one for you, Mandi. I'm sorry." Her finger touched the largest graphic there."

Through the curtain was an area containing six upholstered vinyl benches. Two tattoo artists were using their guns to complete the design on another maid's back, at the base of her spine, just above the girl's crack.

"Please lie down and get comfortable, Mandi." When I was in position, Janine positioned a television so I could watch it comfortably.

"I apologize if it's not your favorite morning show." She turned it on then placed a head set over my ears. I felt my petticoat lifted and pinned to my back then my ruffled panties were pulled down.

The area just below the bottom of my corset was swabbed and I felt a needle prick my skin. "There is some discomfort and I've just given you a local to minimize it." As the area started to numb, I felt someone drawing on my skin.

The tape playing on the TV was of a maid beginning morning chores and instructing us how to change sheets then makeup a large bed.

"I need you to remove your left glove so your maid's ring can be fitted, Mandi," a different nurse asked. She helped me take it off then injected anesthetic in the base of my ring finger. Another injection was placed in the upper part of my left ear.

"This will go in your ear." I was shown the gold and silver ornament. It was a figure of a maid in a deep curtsey, about an inch high wearing a short uniform. "It's in two pieces, front and back, and will penetrate the flesh and cartilage in five places with the pins on the back that mate in sockets in the back section of the front part. Unlike conventional earrings this cannot be removed. You'll see in the next tape why you should never try that stunt."

The nurse pinched my ear to determine that it was numb then I heard her open the sterile package. I felt it when she fitted it to my ear and heard the loud snaps as the pins locked in place, but there was no pain.

I had seen the other maids on the train all wore a heavy silver ring, but not been close enough to any of then to see the details.

My ring was quite large and thick. It practically covered the entire first section of my finger – as large as a university graduation ring. "Your ring is a little smaller than your normal ring size, Mandi, but that shouldn't be a problem as it is not removable." She liberally coated my finger with slippery grease then the inside of the ring. It was with difficulty that the nurse worked the ring over my knuckle and into place then cleaned off all of the lubricant with alcohol.

In each side of the ring there was a hole. The nurse guided a fat needle into one and aimed it towards the opposite side from the pinkie side. The needle was pushed through my flesh and its point emerged from the silver. A ball-ended pin followed it.

"For no other reason than your finger needs to heal, this rod is only temporary, Mandi," she said as she tightened a ball on the treaded end near my middle finger. "You'll get a permanent one when you come for your next pregnancy test.

"Soak your finger in rubbing alcohol every night and morning and rotate the pin a few turns as you do. That should be sufficient.

"The girls have another half hour on your back then Sandi will place your ID number behind your lip. I'll do your eyebrow now, but that will go quickly and shouldn't hurt." She replaced my earphones, started the next tape and swabbed my left brow.

The video explained that my earpiece and ring contained micro electronic devices that would emit a signal if the jewelry were tampered with or damaged. It then went on to explain the two devices less than one tenth of a millimeter in size. One was the RFID and the other the GPS locator.

The locator chip was the less ominous; it could be used by the satellites to target my position me within a meter of accuracy anywhere in the world. RFID's were explained as 'full information devices' that, when queried by a scanner coupled with computers, would identify me then provide any or all information about me from my identity to my bank balance. They would be implanted near my brain at my spinal cord from under each ear. I knew exactly what was being done when I felt the needle painlessly enter the soft flesh there as the tape ended.

Arla pierced my brow with a curved needle then inserted the thin ring. Unlike the plain 'C' on her right eyebrow ring identifying her as a commercial service worker that was fixed solidly to it, my 'M', for 'maid', was rhinestone encrusted and hung to swing freely as I moved. This would become a major annoyance to me as it brushed on my eyelash and there was nothing I could do about it.

"This won't take long, Mandi." The black haired girl set up her equipment before me as the tape ended.

"Just hold still," the nurse curled my upper lip back with her latex covered fingers and I felt the pulses of ink start to penetrate.

"All done," the tattoo girl announced and moved away. "You were a good maid.

"Janine, be sure to enter that in her record file. 'No trouble at all with Mandi'."

"I saw, Diane."

"I second that," my nurse stated.

"Photos, testing your chips and identification and you are done, Mandi. This way."

The photo session was actually fun. First a makeup artist retouched my face and hair then I was directed through a photo shoot where hundreds of pictures were taken. I was made to feel like a high fashion model by the crew and I loved it. I could have enjoyed doing that full-time.

Fingerprinting, retina scans, lip prints, dental x-rays and testing my implanted chips was routine and concluded in twenty minutes. Janine took me back to the top floor.

After inquiring, she found my mistress in the restaurant. "They have a wonderful selection of chastity belts here, as you probably know, Janine." Mistress set down her wine glass after a sip. "I should be done with my lunch by the time you have Mandi fitted with the one I've selected. I'll be choosing the pictures for her identity card by then." We were dismissed.

I'd no kinky or other desires to wear a chastity belt, but saw no options. The guidebook clearly stated in another section that while at the contract owners' discretion for females, male maids were required be so equipped to prevent procreation.

Being a corseted maid, a contoured hip band style had been selected, but Janine took the initiative to select another that rode higher in back on my corset so that my fresh tattoo wasn't covered. "It is not a style most owners chose, but it is far more comfortable than the waist-belt one I have to rear, Mandi." I just stared at her.

"You aren't being signaled out … nearly all maids here are belted!" Janine instructed the attendant on her desired changes.

She escorted me to a fitting room and Sally, the attendant, joined us. "This is an improved model, Mandi, and the maids who've been switched to it state it is much more comfortable to wear." I watched her disassemble the locking mechanisms to remove the penile tube and secondary shield.

"Remove your panties," Janine requested. "Your rubber ones too. You'll not need those any longer." It was simple to fit my flaccid member into its rubber-lined prison. Since I'd been numbed for my tattoo, I'd felt nothing in my groin. After attaching the front shield to the pin on the tube, Janine pressed it to my abdomen and lifted it up to capture my scrotum in its cup shaped cavity.

"Make sure nothing is pinched, Mandi." As I did, Sally spread my cheeks wide apart so the back strap pressed into the crevice then accepted the ends of the hip band from Janine so they could be drawn together and the lock reassembled.

Secure, she knelt in front of me and quickly lifted the pin on the tube high and placed the perforated shield over it then locked everything.

"Lift your foot and I'll help you with your panties."

"All done," she pronounced and stood. Janine took me back to Mademoiselle.

"Your maid is properly belted, Mistress."

"Thank you." She opened her purse and extended her hand. "The keys please?"

"I'm sorry, Mistress. You may not have them." Obviously annoyed, my mistress demanded an explanation. "New rules were issued by the Ministry last week. The RCMRM investigated the causes for five maids testing positive for pregnancy in Montreal. It turned out that a transvestite, masquerading as a maid, was the perpetrator.

"They are understandably upset and very concerned about protecting the reputation and the integrity of all registered maids and especially their male maids. The temporary orders are that all new male maids be belted, regardless of their contract holders wishes and those not belted, be so when they come in for their quarterly pregnancy tests."

"I see, but…"

"Please permit me to state the rest of the orders, mistress?

"All belted maids are to have their locks changed as they report for testing and the contract holders of those female maids are being urged to reconsider their decisions not to. Henceforth, only the local RCMRM facilities will have keys to the maids' chastity belts."

"Why haven't they notified me of this?" Mademoiselle asked.

"We were instructed that only those who ask are to be informed of the policy changes. Apparently, the RCMRM wants to keep it hush, hush in an effort to catch the rapist.

"The rumor is that they have placed undercover Maid Police in Montreal after the explanations of the pregnant maids were compared."

"Well, I certainly hope they catch him. Any idea what they will do when he's brought to justice, Janine?"

"Not exactly, but my friend Chara used to work in Victoria, she's in the Maid Police, and was the one who captured a similar criminal there. The creep wanted to pretend he was a real maid, so they made him one and auctioned a fifty-year contract for his services to a Saudi." Janine giggled. "I'm quite sure he's having a lot of fun now in a harem."

"Here are your maid's identification cards, mistress," another attendant curtseyed to Mademoiselle.

"This one is yours, Mandi, be sure you have it with you whenever you leave the house." Mademoiselle handed me the laminate.

"May I, mistress?" the attendant reached for my card. Mademoiselle nodded towards me and I passed it back.

"There's a slot in the back of your belt for this." She lifted my petticoat and lowered my panties a little. "Put your hand here and feel where it goes, Mandi," she instructed. "It's just below the lock." I did then tried it on my own.

"That's good." The girl adjusted my uniform.

"This is a booklet explaining how to care for her in a chastity belt, this one deals with hygiene of her tattoos and piercings and the last expands on the information in the Guidebook on how to use her identification card. Recently they started incorporating the debit card information on these, so she only needs to carry one card instead of two." Mademoiselle passed the booklets to me.

"If you have a moment, I'll demonstrate to your maid how to access her account, mistress?"

"Certainly," she agreed. "I'm sure Mandi would like to see that."

Together we went to what looked like a regular ATM only with the RCMRM logo on it.

"Take out your card, Mandi." I fumbled to take it from its holder. "Hold it face side up and the picture of your head faces right. That's it, now slide it from the top down."

The small screen displayed a different head and shoulder close-up from the one on my card. 'Maid Mandi 48297667ONT' showed below the image then the screen changed. 'Identity confirmed.'

"It just read your chip, Mandi.'

'Desired action?

'Purchase? >

'Deposit? >

'Account Balance? >

'Other? >'

"Just selected 'account balance for now," she told me.

I pressed the keys and a printout appeared in the slot. "This is not fair!' Tears started to fill my eyes.

'Maid Mandi 48297667ONT ~ 3 April 2015 - 13:27:17

Account Balance

'Previous balance $20.77

'Bank fee … -$5.00

'RCMRM initial registration fee … -$500.00

'Pregnancy test -$50.00

'RCMRM ear fitting -$475.00

'RCMRM finger ring -$337.00

'RCMRM maid's eyebrow ring -$590.00

'RCMRM Chastity Belt -$2,167.00

Hormones (co-payment @ 20%) -$12.00

Closing Balance -$4,115.23

Overdrawn charge -$60.00

Closing balance -$4,175.23

Current interest rate is 1.49%

Interest earned to date … $0.00

 

Mademoiselle took the paper from my trembling hand and read it. "Mandi is correct! This is not fair. I demand to see your supervisor, girl!" Mistress was livid. "She should not be required to have all of this deducted from her account. "I want to see a supervisor now!"

The attendant curtseyed and scampered away.

"Stop crying, I'll deal with this, Mandi!" she snapped. Janine began to dry my tears with a tissue.

"May I be of assistance, Miss Stevens? I understand you are upset." A woman about thirty dressed in a green and black leather uniform addressed Mademoiselle.

"I'm Captain Samantha Argyle."

"Yes, I'm upset over this." The captain took the printout and read it.

"This all seems in order. Just what is the problem, Miss Stevens?"

"All of the charges to her account. My maid should not have any of this charged to her bank account. That is the problem, Captain!"

"It is standard RCMRM procedure to debit the maids' accounts for our expenses. We are not a taxpayer-funded Ministry, Miss Stevens, nor are we a charity. The maids pay for everything here, even those transactions required by the laws under which we operate."

"I want to pay for those charges from my account. Please cancel them and debit my account," my mistress offered her charge card.

"That is impossible, Miss Stevens. The computer makes no provision for canceling legitimate charges."

"Can I use that to transfer funds from my account to my maid's?" Mademoiselle asked and pointed to the ATM.

"Certainly, it will accept all recognized cards." Captain Argyle moved aside.

She swiped her card and entered her transaction.

I read the completed transaction sheet over her shoulder.

'Maid Mandi 48297667ONT ~ 3 April 2015 - 13:27:17

Account Balance

'Previous balance -$4,175.23

'Interest @ 25% -$2.86

'Bank fee … -$5.00

'Fund transfer $4,203.86

'RCMRM fee @ 46.3% -$1,946.39

Closing Balance … -$2,257.47

Overdrawn charge -$60.00

Closing balance -$2,317.47

Current interest rate is 1.49%

Interest earned to date … $0.00

 

"Janine, be so kind as to take Mandi someplace to wait and repair her makeup, please?" Though her voice was controlled, it was readily apparent that my mistress was livid.

"Captain, I will meet with your superior now!"

Janine took me several floors down after telling the attendant we'd be in the 'Maid's lounge'.

"This is where we goof off while on our breaks, Mandi." It was a room with tables, chairs and sofas arranged in various seating groups. Six others were there when we came in.

"Sit here, please?" I was directed to a stool beside a mirrored table filled with cosmetics.

"Wendy, would you help me please?" The girl who came over was the one who'd fixed my makeup; we'd not been introduced earlier. Janine did so.

"Mandi became a little upset. Would you repair her face please?"

"My pleasure." Wendy pulled over another stool.

"No more crying now, Mandi. Nothing that was done to you is any different than the rest of us received when we were registered, except you get to wear a really pretty earring we don't have." She was trying to be friendly.

"I know, I got all upset because my account was charged almost a year's pay for everything here today. Now Mademoiselle is in a flying rage upstairs."

"Hold still, I'm going to take off your lashes.

"Why is she upset?"

"Because she transferred her own funds to reverse the charges and the machine deducted over sixteen hundred dollars in fees and my account is still overdrawn."

"I see." My eye makeup was removed and Wendy began to reapply it.

"You have really pretty eyes, I'm going do them differently.

Several hours passed and I became concerned. All the girls were called away throughout the afternoon and I sat uncomfortably, waiting for my mistress to return. My chastity belt was going to require a lot of getting used to.

"Come along, Mandi," I heard her call from the doorway. "We'll be going now." Janine stood behind her.

In the lobby, we both thanked Janine for her help then left to walk back to the train station. It was after five and already dark; it was also extremely cold. That morning the temperatures had been in the sixties, or high teens (I'm still wasn't used to the centigrade scale). Then, it had to be below freezing.

"Mademoiselle, I'm very cold." We'd only waked one block when I complained.

"Yes, I can understand that." She glanced at my exposed legs; black fishnet tights offered absolutely no protection from the wind.

"Just a half block further and we'll stop so you can warm up. Being the middle of rush hour, the train is going to be extremely crowded. We'll catch a later one."

She led me to a large pub. As expected at that hour, The Bottom Line was crowded with office workers having a few drinks before beginning to make their way home. I think nearly every guy in the place soon had his attention directed towards me.

"Hey babe," a guy, ten feet away, called to me. "Come here and make my day."

"Charlie, behave, she's a registered maid," a man in his group advised.

"Like I'm impressed already," he was walking a bit unsteadily towards me when a stocky guy stepped between us.

"Back off, Mac," I heard a man advise.

"I just wanna talk to the pretty girl and buy her a drink."

"She's a registered maid, just come on back to your seat." I guessed he was a bouncer. When the drunk reached to grab the man's arm, the bouncer moved quickly to put him down on the floor in a painful way. Three more bouncers pounced on him and soon were standing; rushing him past us, head first for the door. Quite literally, they tossed him out onto the sidewalk.

"Would you like to be seated, miss?" a hostess addressed Mademoiselle.

"Yes please, in the lounge."

Where we were led was a nice room with a much nicer atmosphere than the bar room. Mademoiselle ordered a bottle of wine from the waitress.

"Will your maid be sharing with you, ma'am?"

"Yes, thank you."

"House rules, I'll need to scan her ID, please?"

"Mandi" I fumbled to remove the card and hand it to her. There was a small device on her tray, which she used to scan my card and it was returned to me.

"Thank you."

"Before you go, please explain why you needed to check my maid?"

"As I stated ma'am, it is a house rule. Only registered maids are permitted in The Bottom Line and they must be accompanied and belted before they are served.

"A few months ago, we had a girl posing as a registered maid who was coming here and soliciting for prostitution. One night she tried to pick up another girl who turned out to be undercover maid police. The cop strongly recommended to management that the current policy be implemented.

"Even if they are properly registered and belted, they are not permitted to mingle with the guys here."

Mademoiselle chuckled, "From what just happened in the other room, I think it's just the opposite – the guys aren't permitted to mingle with the maids."

"Take your glove off, Mandi. I want to see your ring," mistress was in a much better mood than earlier.

"Very nice," she said holding my hand for a close look.

"How do you like all of your new jewelry, be honest with me."

"Right now it hurts, Mademoiselle, especially the ring; I think that will get better when it heals and the swelling subsides; the same for my ear, but that piece if fairly heavy. The rhinestone pendant on my eyebrow ring is an annoyance because it keeps tickling and I'll know not to touch it."

"I'm sure you'll get used to everything. Be aware though that those are diamond chips and not rhinestones. That's why it cost so much." She smiled.

You may put your glove back on, Mandi." She waited until I had.

"You have a lot of chores to do at my house, but, tonight, I want you to relax and enjoy yourself. We'll have dinner here, unless you've a better place to suggest."

"Thank you, you know I don't, Mademoiselle.

"May I ask if you resolved the matter with my bank account?"

"It is resolved. That is sufficient for your answer. Your account balance is as it should be, fourteen dollar, sixty-six, but I'm not at all pleased and do not wish to discuss the matter further, Mandi." She made her desire quite clear.

 

Continued in Part II

  

  

  

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