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THURSDAY
The clear skies of yesterday afternoon and evening caused the temperature to drop considerably overnight. I woke shivering, and waited impatiently for my Mistress, in Her warm, soft bed, to wake also, and to raise by remote control the door of my cage so that I could go about my morning duties.
At last She did so - I imagined Her slender finger drowsily pressing the button before She drifted back into Her scented slumber; did She think of me at this moment? - I scrambled out of my cage and went from the garage into the yard behind. There, in the kitchen porch, I found the U.S Mail bag of Wednesday hanging from its hook. It was heavy with computer discs and paperwork; my Mistress had evidently done a great deal of work yesterday. I slung it over my shoulder and trotted off, casting a wistful glance at the outside tap as I passed it. But, thirsty though I was, I could not take off my muzzle to drink without a Woman's permission.
Returning invigorated by my brisk run through the cold dawn air, I showered thoroughly and used the animal deodorant as usual before placing Ms Howard's post and newspapers on the kitchen table, emptying the dishwasher and putting away its contents, and taking my usual position kneeling at the side of Her chair.
It was six by the kitchen clock then; at half past the hour I heard the faint sounds of my Lady's preparations for the new day. I switched on the coffee percolator and the oven to prepare for Her breakfast.
My Goddess made Her appearance ten minutes later, immaculate in a tan silk dressing gown and thin silk slippers of the same hue. (I regarded the latter sadly; I knew She would never allow me to lick those!) She took Her seat, the soft fabric of Her gown brushing my shoulder, a waft of Her fresh-from-the-shower fragrance reaching my eager nostrils. Then: "Boy! Coffee!"
I sprang to do Her bidding; afterwards, while She sipped Her drink and efficiently sorted Her mail, I did my usual duty with the waste paper basket, retrieving from the floor the material She casually threw down there. Finishing, She rose and left me without a word. I cleared the table, re-laid it, and knelt by the young lady's chair to await her arrival.
At eight-thirty she made her usual dishevelled entry, in her customary over-long Tee shirt with scanty lace 'panties' below and her battered old trainers on her feet. I served her as she commanded, then, when she too had finished and left, I cleared away and loaded the dishwasher. My immediate duties at an end, I left the kitchen to kneel upon the scrap of carpet out on the porch and waited patiently for one of the Women to instruct me further.
The young lady turned up after a while to feed and water me, after which I took up my position again.
The sound of my Lady's voice brought me from my usual reverie.
"I think we should leave about nine o'clock for Dolly's. That will give us a chance to have a sneak preview of this slave that's for sale."
"Are we meeting Constance and Flora there?" enquired Her sister.
"Oh yes! Wild horses wouldn't keep them away!"
"What about Boy? Are you taking him in slave mode?"
"Indeed I am. He shall wait upon us there!"
"Big sister; I do believe you are looking forward to showing him off!"
"Well, dear; if you've got it, flaunt it; as they say! But that remind me. Boy!" My My Lady's clear voice rang out. "Answer!"
"Yes, Mistress!" I replied promptly.
"Clean and deodorize yourself well. Put your leash, your muzzle and your sandals, and put a can of deodorant into the back of my car, then get into your box. You may have fifteen minutes. Answer!"
"Yes, Mistress!" I called back, full of joy that my Goddess had condescended to speak to me. As I left I heard Her say to Her sister: "I shall go and change - and so shall you, little sister; you cannot possibly go with me dressed like that!"
The young lady's response went unheard by me, for I was already in the shower soaping myself furiously. In much less than the allotted time I'd carried out my Lady's orders and was crouched in the dark, tiny box awaiting Her arrival; nor was I to wait long, for I soon heard the clack of leather heels on the paving of the porch approaching me.
But, to my surprise, it was not my Mistress who placed her foot below my mouth, but Her sister, properly shod for one of the few times in her young life. The shoes were old but well-kept, and a little too big for her. Obviously, they were an old pair of my Lady's, and the thought made licking them more enjoyable. They were immediately replaced by the slender feet of Ms Howard Herself; as always I took special care with them, fearful that an excess of my saliva might stain them; as always I licked the soles too. Afterwards I was given me a little water to moisten my mouth, then Ms Howard spoke.
"Boy! Come out of your box and get into your cage in the back of my car!"
I leapt to obey Her command, noticing that they were already sauntering after me.
Once settled on the thick paper mat in my cage, they got into the SUV and Ms Howard drove off. As before, I could see nothing of our progress, my view being hindered by the sides of the car and the backs of the seats, but I could hear their conversation over the smooth purr of the engine as Ms Howard left Her Estate and turned onto the public highway.
"Have you given Boy any instructions on how to behave in public, Sis?"
"Not at all! He will know how!" Came the reply.
"And if he doesn't?" Came the sly query.
"I have my whip!" My Mistress said meaningfully.
But I was not perturbed; I had found Her a kindly Owner, and I was confident in my ability to serve Her to Her satisfaction on this excursion. Then She raised the glass partition between us and I fell asleep.
It must have been a considerable distance to our destination, for we stopped en route for them to take coffee, (not at a 'Starbucks', for my Lady would not be seen dead in anywhere so proletarian) but at a select coffee-house known only to the connoisseurs of that beverage. I pressed my back against the roof of the cage to see out, but, as usual, could only see the tops of the highest vehicles. I could see people passing to and fro, but the darkened glass prevented their seeing in.
The two sisters returned, and we resumed our journey. I stayed awake, lying on the floor of my cage, rehearsing my prospective role at this function.
Presntly we turned off the road onto a smooth tar-macadamed surface and stopped. But only for a moment; we very soon drove slowly onward, and I presumed the halt had been at some sort of Gate-keeper's Lodge at the entrance to Ms Howard's friend's property. We came to our final stop, the Women alighted, Ms Howard raised the rear door of the car and the door of my cage and ordered me out.
"Put on your sandals," She commanded. Then: "Kneel!"
She leashed me with Her own cool, deft fingers. She tugged gently on my leash, and I stood upright immediately, earning a faint smile of approval from Her at my instinctive awareness that it was my 'slave role' She wanted me to adopt.
"Take our hand-bags!" She ordered, and She and Her sister strolled off; I taking up the natural slave position at the side of my Mistress, half a step behind Her.
On our short journey I had the leisure to observe my surroundings. We had pulled up on a large paved space before the enormous porch of a mansion in the fake Palladian manner. It reminded me of Chatsworth on a smaller style, and so did its setting, for it was placed among a very good imitation of English parkland, with scattered trees standing in short turf. We mounted the flight of broad marble step to the massive oak door, only for it to open as we reached the wide final step before the entrance.
Although I had my eyes fixed on the ground, I could see the bottom of the door-warden's pin-striped trousers and his brightly polished black shoes. His welcome confirmed my impression.
"Ah, Ms Howard!" in perfect REP - a genuine English butler!
"Ah, Wilkins!" responded my Lady, with a certain amount of spirit, and in an immaculate 'Oxbridge' drawl.
(I was to learn that She and Wilkins were old, and mutually respectful, adversaries. They had had many a tussle about this and that, with more or less equal results, but always conducted with the ultimate in decorum. They admired each other, I suspect, my Lady for Wilkins' icy politeness in opposition; he for Her grace in victory or defeat).
"The young lady is Milady's sister, no doubt?" he went on.
"Correct as always, Wilkins; and this is my slave, Boy!"
I could feel, even if I could not see, his stare of disapproval. He spoke:
"No doubt Milady will not be aware of my Mistress's instructions regarding the slaves of her guests?"
"Very perspicacious of you, Wilkins; as my many talents do not include mind-reading!" She purred sarcastically.
The Butler was unruffled. Favouring my Lady with a wintry smile, he went on.
"They are that the male slaves of guests are not to be naked; they are to wear a minimum of a 'thong' " - he uttered the word with distaste - "and they are to be kept leashed at all times!"
My Lady tapped a slender foot upon the marble floor.
"It does not seem to me," She began in a soft but dangerous voice, "that the manner in which I require my slaves to appear in public, and the duties I wish them to perform, are the concern of anyone but myself!"
"Indubitably, Milady," Wilkins riposted, "in normal circumstances. But as a guest of my Mistress, perhaps Milady may consider that following her Hostess's wishes would seem to be comme il faut in the circumstances?"
My Lady conceded defeat; I felt the radiance of Her sudden smile as She replied.
"Game, set, and match to you, I think; Wilkins! But it is a pity he shall wait not upon me"
The Butler gave her a deep bow.
"Milady is gracious!" he said. "And Milady will find herself served entirely to her satisfaction."
"And now - if you don't intend to keep us chattering on the doorstep all day - take us to your Mistress at once! And stable my slave until I require him!"
She tossed him the end of my leash. He caught it deftly as he replied.
"As Milady wishes. If the ladies would care to follow John" - indicating a dark-suited footman - "I shall see that Milady's slave is put away."
The sisters entered the house and went off behind their guide. Wilkins called out sharply.
"Mathilde!"
A pretty young maid came swiftly and silently.
"Take this slave and put it away!"
"Vair good, Meester Wilkin'!" she replied with a shallow curtsey.
She took my proffered leash and led me off. I went with her meekly; it was, after all, the wish of my Lady and, beside that, 'Mathilde' was a Woman, and my Mistress had sufficiently conditioned me by then into an automatic obedience to any Woman.
I was led around the house, out of the warm sunlight and into a shady courtyard. Various expensive cars were being washed and cleaned by coveralled servants. They paid no attention to me being led naked through their midst, only a few appreciative whistles at Mathilde accompanied our progress. Past the covered bays for the cars we went, and into another, larger yard on one side of which, in deep shade, was a row of four large cages into one of which I was led. I knelt for my leash to be removed; Mathilde tossed a 'thong' at me, then left, locking the cage door behind her.
I put on the skimpy thong and examined my new environment. The cage was about eight feet long by six feet wide and seven feet high; its floor was covered by an old, but still soft and luxurious, carpet: a small wooden stool, a commode, and a metal cup chained to one the bars completed its furnishings. Very civilised accomodation by my recent standards; but then I was a slave, not an animal, for the time being. The cage on my right was empty; the two cages on my left contained occupants. Immediately next to me a slave sat cross-legged upon the carpet; from a previous description this must have been 'Puss', for he was olive skinned and very young. His only dress was a bright red collar, and a tiny thong of the same colour, similiar to mine, - though why the thong I couldn't imagine, as from what I'd heard he no longer possessed anything below it to embarrass any casual spectators. He glanced at me, but otherwise ignored me.
In the far cage a young girl stood, her small hands gripping the bars. She was tiny, with short black hair and olive skin, and dressed in a short, armless, white linen shift which came down to her mid-thighs: that, apart from her collar, was her sole attire. Even from that distance I could sense her sadness. She, of course, was the slave 'Moth'; the slave her Owner and Trainer meant to auction that very afternoon. Watching her I began to realise what it must be like to sold away from everyone and everything one had ever known; to be taken off like a piece of furniture to a destination no-one even thinks of telling you; to be someone else's property disposable at their whim, and, thanks to one's circumscribed upbringing, not even able to guess that this is anything unusual. A cold shiver swept over me as I thought of the possibility of my Mistress selling me at some time in the future. I didn't think She would - She had ample funds - but She could; and, thanks to the docility She had reduced me to docility so easily and thoroughly, there would be nothing I could do but accept it and go meekly off with my new Owner.
This gloomy train of thought was interrupted by the appearance of five Women, at which Puss rose and rushed to the bars of his cage, while Moth held out her thin arms in silent entreaty.
The Women were Ms Howard Herself, Her sister, a stout elderly lady unsuitably clad in a colourful sarong, and a tall, spare lady in her 40's. The fifth was a maid; not Mathilde, but an older Woman. The maid, who was first to arrive at our cages, picked up a spouted bucket and splashed water into the chained cups which Puss and Moth held out through the bars. When she came to me she hesitated, noticing my muzzle.
But: "Boy!" came the voice of Ms Howard; "take off your muzzle and drink! Then replace your muzzle!"
Blessing my Lady's kindness to me, I did as She told me, gulping down the warm, flat water eagerly. The maid curstsied to the older Woman, evidently her Mistress and our Hostess Dolly, before taking her self off. The four Women examined me critically through the bars as I re-muzzled myself.
"Well trained, Howard!" Dolly drawled. "What do you think, Zenobia?"
"You've done an excellent job in such a short time, Howard," Zenobia, the tall, thin Woman, remarked, a touch of envy in her voice.
"Oh, nonsense!" laughed my Mistress. "The secret is all in the initial selection. I knew I'd tamed him five seconds after we first spoke!"
"Perhaps!" came the curt reply as the Women sauntered off to examine the other slaves. Left alone, and not fancying the hardness of the tiny stool, I lay on the carpeted floor with my head propped on my hands and watched their progress. I could hear them quite clearly in the still, warm air as they paused before Puss's cage and discussed its inmate.
"A wonder that Jean could bear to leave him long enough to have her lunch!" said Dolly. Puss meanwhile, was standing as close as the bars between them permitted to his former Owner Zenobia, weeping silently. She made a complicated gesture, and he obediantly perched himself on his stool and looked at her beseechingly, the tears still streaming down his cheeks.
"I'm sorry, dear," she said in a soft, soothing voice, "but I'm not your Mistress any more. Jean owns you now, and I'm sure she looks after you!"
She turned away from the cage and blew her nose. Her friends regarded her sympathetically. Her voice was breaking as she spoke.
"Oh, I hate these moments!" she exclaimed passionately. "I hate parting with my slaves after I've had them from tiny babies! But they get used to it in the end - and so must I!"
Subdued by this display of emotion, they stopped before the girl-slave's cage. She and her Mistress hugged each other throught the bars for a long minute before Zenobia gently disengaged herself and stepped back out of Moth's reach.
"Does she know she's to be sold this afternoon?" enquired Ms Howard, curiously.
"I always do my best to explain to them what's to become of them, but it's very difficult. They have no notion at all of property, never owning anything themselves. I do my best, but it's impossible to get through to them by our simple sign language."
"What does she think is happening to her, then?" the young lady asked.
"Oh!....She knows that I'm going away, and that she's to go with another Mistress, and that she's to obey her, but that's all I can get her to understand, poor thing!"
"Come on; let's go!" broke in their Hostess. "I want a cool drink before the viewing!"
And off they went, leaving us in our cages in the deserted yard. Moth sat disconsolately upon her stool, while Puss had lain down on the floor of his cage and fallen asleep; an example I lost no time in imitating.
I couldn't quite succeed in sleeping, and instead lay blinking drowsily at the view of the yard through the bars. I was hungry, but I dismissed the feeling; I would be fed when She had time to think about it, and not before.
The appearance of Mathilde broke this train of thought; tripping lightly across the yard up to our cages. She carried two long leashes, one of them of bright red leather. She opened and entered Puss's cage where he knelt to allow her to clip the red leash to his collar. At a tug on his leash he rose and followed her out. She opened my cage door; I received her in the same manner, and soon Puss and I were walking out of the yard behind her, our leashes held loosely in the housemaid's hand, as docilely as two haltered beasts, leaving poor 'Moth' staring after us throught the bars of her cage.
As I walked along, my eyes cast down as I'd been taught, I had little sense of our surroundings until we came out onto a broad grassy space dominated by an enormous tree whose wide branches supplied ample shade for the scattered tables and chairs at which several people sat, and for the low, white-painted platform at the rough centre of the grouping.
Mathilde led us over the clipped turf, stopping us close to a group clustered around a broad circular wicker table. There, cool and elegant on Her wicker recliner, was my Goddess, chatting amicably with the company. With a swift glance I noted the others. The young lady was there, of course; Constance and Flora, Zenobia the slave trainer, and a short, dark Woman with cropped black hair, evidently Jean, 'Puss's' Owner, for Mathilde handed her his leash, and he fell to his knees at her side to nuzzle her hand in welcome.
My leash she handed to my Mistress, who took it languidly without so much as looking at me. Instead She gestured me to kneel, and She ran her hand absently through my hair as She continued their conversation.
Zenobia was about to leave them.
"I'll have to go now, and take Moth around those who have expressed an interest before the bidding starts," she said. "Do any of you ladies intend to bid?"
The young lady looked excited, but subsided after a frosty glance from her Sister. Flora expressed an interest; Constance likewise, but more dubiously; Ms Howard said nothing; and Zenobia departed.
"Such a bore our slaves must be kept leashed, and unable to wait upon us," my Lady remarked lazily to the other slave owner at the table.
"I could not believe of Dolly!" exclaimed the other, in a 'Down Easter' twang. "Why, the very idea! My poor Puss to be kept tied like a dog - and I so love to see him run about my grounds!"
Her slave was on all fours at her feet; she ran her hand down his spine, and he arched his back like a cat to accept her caress.
"Poor Puss!" said my Mistress, a trifle sardonically. "Boy enjoys being on MY leash; don't you, Boy?"
In enthusiastic agreement I rolled over on my back before Her, inviting Her to place Her shoes upon my chest and belly and quivered in ecstacy at the sharp digs of Her tall, narrow heels in my flesh and the sandpapery feeling of Her leather soles on my skin. My Lady was both amused and, perhaps, a little touched by this display of instant devotion. She placed the heel of Her left shoe at the base of my throat and pressed down gently while I lay trustingly prone at Her feet.
The conversation continued.
"What happens now?" asked the young lady of no-one in particular.
"Oh, Zenobia will lead her slave around the bidders. They'll be able to examine her, and talk to her via Zenobia. And they'll want to see various documents, medical certificates of health, etc. It will be just like buying a horse." said Flora.
"She's over there now; we must be next!" remarked Constance.
Sure enough, only a few minutes later, Zenobia fetched up at our table with the leashed Moth following demurely. I rolled over to face them, my Mistress's shoes digging into my ribs as I did so. Moth was now naked, the better to show her off, her thin childish body in sunlight as she stood patiently by the side of her Owner.
"Well; Flora.........Constance?.........What do you think of her?.......Any questions?"
Thus Zenobia, taking a seat and signalling 'Moth' to kneel at her feet.
"May I see her medical records?" asked Flora. "Ah!.....Thank you, dear!"
As she perused the various papers, her friend asked Zenobia what living conditions her slave was accustomed to.
"She has a small room of her own now. No bed; she sleeps on the floor. I do allow her a blanket though when it's a little cold at night, but she can manage without it. She has a commode there, and there's also a small shower niche. The door to her room is self-locking, and I've trained her to go and lock herself in on command when I have to leave her for any length of time.As for clothes - well, that would be up to her new owner. I keep her naked; of course she never leaves the house or its immediate grounds"
"These commands you give her," queried Ms Howard's practical younger sister; "how do you make her understand them? I've been told you had her made deaf in her early childhood - and dumb, too!"
"And so I did, my dear!" Zenobia replied. "I do that to all my slaves as soon as I get them. Then I teach them a simple code based on various hand signals."
"But, if they're deaf, how do you attract their attention in the first place?"
"Well, most of the time their attention is fixed on me, as it would be onto their new Owner. For instance, Puss....." Here she broke off with a smile, for Puss, proving the exception to the rule, was seen to be on all fours, straining on his leash just like a dog to get to Moth whom he recognised as his old acquaintance from his days with his Trainer. Just as with a dog, his Mistress pulled him back hard and signed him sharply to lie down.
The other Women laughed indulgently, but Zenobia pointed to Moth's fixed attention on her face and hands.
"And also," Zenobia went on, "if she's not giving me her attention, or if she's out of sight....." (She made a sign, and Moth went down onto all-fours, turning her back on her Mistress)........Here, at the base of her neck, you may see a tiny swelling. That's made by the surgical insertion of a small buzzer energised by this high frequency whistle I advise Owners to carry. I'll demonstrate it for you."
She raised the slim silver whistle to her lips, and blew. The effect on her slave was almost comical: she turned at once to her Mistress, mute enquiry in her eyes. Zenobia made a sign, at which Moth immediately scrambled over to her and sat upright by her side.
Fondling her slave's hair, Zenobia said "See? Now she won't take her eyes off me, waiting for another command."
The Women expressed their appreciation, and Flora intimated she would definitely be taking part in the bidding. Constance, too, seemed more enthusiastic than formerly.
Zenobia then took her leave, to continue to circulate amongst those interested in buying her slave. Flora signalled a hovering maid for more drinks, but Ms Howard, Her active mind and body needing diversion, rose lithely to Her feet in one flowing motion.
"I think I'll go for a walk," She remarked. "Coming, little sister?"
But the young lady had settled deep in her chair, her eyes closed and her feet on the sleeping Puss's flank. Ms Howard smiled and turned away.
"Come, Boy!"
I scrambled eagerly to my feet and took up my slave's position by Her side as She made Her way across the lawn and into the surrounding woodland. The paths were wide and shady; others of the gathering were taking strolls too, and my Lady exchanged greetings with them as we met. The leash was six feet long, much longer than my normal leash, which meant I was not constrained to walk as close to my Mistress as normally. But I followed Her in my usual position, close behind and to the right, bent at the knees and thighs just a little lest I commit the unforgiveable sin of raising my head level with that of my Mistress, the unaccustomed extra length of thin leather draped down my chest and looping across my thigh. Then, to my delight, the longer leash afforded me an opportunity to serve my Goddess in an unlooked for way.
Two others had joined us in our stroll. The three Women, talking desultorily, were walking abreast along the path when, in front of them, I spotted a small puddle. It was not very large - aboout six inches wide - but it was directly in my Lady's path. I didn't wait to learn what She intended to do on reaching it, but, thanks to the length of my leash, I was able to quickly move around and in front of Her and prostrate my body in the puddle to enable Her to cross dry shod. So good was my timing that She didn't even have to break Her stride, merely place Her foot in the small of my back and continue Her progress while I rose hastily and went back to my place, mud and water streaming down my chest and belly.
No comment on my deed was made by anyone; their talk went on undisturbed. My Lady, of course, took my action on Her behalf as completely expected of me. But I felt Her semse of approval, and my heart leapt with joy.
The others turned off and left us. My Lady hailed a passing servant.
"Take my slave and get him washed down, if you please. Then bring him back to me at my table!"
The maid bobbed a curtsey, and took the proffered leash from my Owner. Ms Howard turned away, and the maid led me off into the courtyard where the cages stood. There she indicated a pump and a bucket, then stood by holding my leash while I pumped water and washed myself down. When she led me back, I found my Lady already in Her chair, and the auction about to start.
To scattered applause from the spectators their hostess Dolly, her butler Wilkins, Zenobia and Moth mounted the low platform and faced them. The stout, bustling Dolly spoke.
"We are ready to commence. Wilkins will act as auctioneer. Please make all bids in multiples of ten thousand dollars."
She stepped back to allow Wilkins prominence and he began, his clipped voice easily filling the area.
"My ladies.....Who will open the bidding for this slave?.....Do I hear one hundred?.....Thank you, Madam.......One hundred I am bid....."
The young lady whispered to her sister.
"One lousy hundred?"
"One hundred thousand dollars, dear!"
"One hundred and twenty.......one hundred and fifty..." Wilkins intoned.
Flora gestured at him.
"One hundred and seventy-five.....Two hundred......"
Flora leaned forward in her seat and gestured again.
"Two hundred and twenty-five........" He paused for a long moment.
"Two hundred and fifty from the lady on my right!"
My Lady's elderly friend sat back in defeat, her mouth pinched.
"Going.....going........gone! Sold to the lady over there for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars!.......If you would step this way, Madam!"
A large fair lady 'd'un age certaine' came forward and took Moth's leash from Zenobia. The three stood together for a few minutes, Zenobia talking to the lady, and signing emphatically to Moth before the latter went off with her new Owner. Zenobia, her shoulders slumped in sorrow, left the scene.
"Not very dramatic!" remarked the young lady.
"No!" agreed her Sister, drily. "Shall we go now?"
On receiving Her sibling's acquiesence, Ms Howard made Her adieus to Her friends and the sisters walked back to their Hostess's house to bid her goodbye. This done, my Lady turned to Her car, which Wilkins had had cleaned and brought round for Her convenience. He himself stood attentively by the driver's door, ready to open it for my Lady.
She raised the tailgate remotely and ordered me into my cage before approaching the Butler.
"Ah, Wilkins!" She greeted him.
"Ms Howard!" he bowed stiffly. "I trust Milady enjoyed herself?"
"Indeed I did, Wilkins! And the service was impeccable - as always!"
"One endeavours to give satisfaction, Milady!" he murmured as he held open the car door and ushered Her into the driving seat.
"Quite so, my good man!......Goodbye!"
With this parting shot She drove off. We had cleared the Lodge gates and were on the open road before Her sister spoke.
"What's with all this 'Milady' jazz, big sister?" she asked in puzzlement.
Ms Howard laughed.
"Oh! That's all Wilkins' doing! He has found out that I'm the legitimate heiress to the presently defunct Earldom of Shaftesbury in England - should I care to claim it. He thinks I should, and take up my seat in the House of Lords. He takes a dim view of the Aristocracy 'letting the side down' as he puts it!"
"Wow!" exclaimed Her sister, deeply impressed - as well she might be. "Would you have to become a Brit if you did?"
"Oddy enough, no. I would have to swear my personal allegiance to the reigning Monarch though - something our Constitution is just a little negative on!"
At that She raised the dividing partition, preventing me from overhearing any further exchanges on the subject.
I fell asleep in my cage, wakening only when the car pulled up at Ms Howard's front door. There I was ordered out, unmuzzled, and put into my box to clean their shoes.
I was left there quite a long time - my Mistress evidently had more important things to do, or She just couldn't be bothered to release me - something I had to put up with as best I could.
When She finally came to me it was dark and cold. She commanded me to clean myself, and to wait for Her, muzzled, on my scrap of carpet outside the kitchen door. I did so, taking the opportunity of drinking from the shower. She appeared after only a brief interval, carrying my mitts which She locked onto my wrists as I knelt before Her. I was to be in 'dog' mode then, and it was as 'Fido' that She addressed me when She told me to 'Heel!' I padded behind Her on all-fours, the bell on my collar tinkling softly, into the kitchen. She had evidently dined already, for the savoury smells of Her repast made me salivate with hunger as She led the way into the corridor which led to the Dining Rooms. She passed them by, to arrive at and open a wide door into a booklined room with large draped French doors in one wall, and a large desk on which stood several telephones, a computer, and other electronic gear associated with it. This was Her Study, or Workplace when She was at home, and, after She'd taken Her place at the desk, I wriggled into the large kneehole space below it and lay down, Her small, slipper-clad feet automatically coming to rest upon my flank.
I fell into a vacant sort of trance, thinking of nothing but the comfortable feeling of the thick carpet beneath me, and the entirely right and proper pressure of my Goddess's shoes on my body: even my hunger was forgotten. Above me papers slid and flicked, and computer keys clicked as She went efficiently through her work, the silence broken only by Her occasional sighs or exclamations of impatience.
Finally She seemed to have finished, for She stood, stretched, and, without a word, walked from the room. I scrambled out from below the desk and ran after Her, following Her back along the corridor and into another room unfamiliar to me. This turned out to be a small Sitting Room, tastefully and comfortable furnished with pleasantly worn old armchairs, a sofa, bookshelves, and even a small, rarely used, Television set, while a log fire glowed and flickered in an exquisite Adams fireplace. She completely ignored me, though She must have been aware of my presence. After closing the dor behind us, She took down a book, sat in a wing-backed armchair, and began to read. I glanced at the wide, soft expanse of the sofa, but decided regretfully against jumping up onto it; by then I'd a pretty good idea of my Lady's views on allowing 'dogs' to lie on the furniture. Instead, I went over and sat by Her chair, where I leant my head on Her knee. Without raising Her eyes from Her book, She lowered a slim, cool hand onto my head and absently ruffled Her fingers through my hair, causing me to squirm with pleasure, for She had neglected to put on the plastic gloves She had hitherto worn whenever She touched me. But She soon tired of this, pushing my head gently from Her knee, and took up a perfumed tissue from a box on a side table to to clean Her hand. I then lay at Her feet, on the hearthrug before the fire. She put Her feet upon me and continued to read.
I lay unmoving, staring at the flames; then, as the logs burnt away, at their glowing embers. At last She closed Her book and rose to her feet. She looked at the slim Cartier watch on Her wrist, then glanced down at me.
"Heel, Fido!" She said curtly, opening the door and leading us down the corridor and through the kitchen, out of the Front Door into the freezing night air. She led the way to the door into the garage, taking the long way round on the grass so that the sharp gravel of the drive should not cut my unprotected knees. There She opened the door and pointed downwards. I scurried past Her to lie on my belly on the cold concrete below the high step downwards. Again I felt Her weight upon me, crushing my chest into the floor, before She raised the door of my cage and ushered me in, closing the door behind me.
She had taken a few steps on Her way out when She uttered an exclamation and turned back to reach through the bars and remove my muzzle. There was water in my trough, and I lapped it up avidly. Meanwhile She took up a shovel-full of Animal Feed and poured it into the trough just as I finished drinking. About to turn away, She clicked Her fingers in sudden remembrance and, moving around my cage, She slid back a loeuvred metal grill in the wall causing a flood of welcome warm air to wash over me.
Then She DID leave me, putting off the lights behind Her, leaving me warm and with a full belly, to lie down on the soft pad to sleep, filled with gratitude for Her kindness.
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