New High Heel Ritual

Good Morning My Darlings,

Here's a little something to start your day. I wrote this in first person so that you may better put yourself into it as you read. I want you to become that tortured and tormented submissive. That is what you want, isn't it. To suffer for ME, endure MY humiliations?

Enjoy...

The tinkling bell catches my attention. I dry my hands and straighten my apron. My stilettos click across the floor as I scurry, with tiny steps, to Mistress. She insists I take small steps, having once complained, 'I don't want you clomping about like some fisher woman'. The proper gait and posture were obtained with countless walking drills and punishments for non-performance. I knew that Mistress would be listening to my approach, her ear could tell when my walk did not meet her strict specifications. I executed a low and delicate feminine curtsy, another requirement dictated by Mistress. Then I waited, in silence.
Mistress ignored me, didn't even acknowledge my presence. She read a few more pages in her book then looked up at me. "Display," she ordered.
I performed another curtsy, this time lifting my dress as I rose, to display my chastity device.
She picked up her crop, using it to move the chastity device around, inspecting it and my cock imprisoned inside. "Mmm, these look rather full and tight," she used the slapper on the end of her crop to tap my balls. "No, you're not getting released, what's the point in that? Present," she said.
At this command I turned and bent at the waist, still holding up my dress. My bottom, framed by the straps of my garter belt and the tops of my stockings, was presented to Mistress. This posture was used for punishment, humiliation, or to present my pussi for use by any Master or Mistress.
"Spread," she ordered.
I reached around and grabbed my buttocks, opening my ass cheeks to display what Mistress called my 'pussi'.
She poked it with her crop, "Are you plugging this slut-hole in the shower?"
"Yes, Ma'am," she required me to plug my pussi in the shower, to keep it conditioned to being 'used'.
She set the crop on the sofa. "Dress down."
I lowered my dress, turned around and placed my hands behind my back.
"You like wearing high heels, don't you," she asked.
"Yes, Ma'am," I performed a small 'bob curtsy' a bending of my knees, a ritual that accompanied every response to acknowledge an order from a superior.
Her smile was not one of warmth, rather it was a prognosticator of misery. "Good, then you will wear heels all the time in my house."
"Yes, Ma'am."
She was silent, it was an uneasy silence. "All...the...time, from the minute you get out of bed until you go to bed. Not in the shower of course, but at all other times."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"I'd advise you to keep a pair by the door so you can slip into them the moment you enter the house."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"If there are times when this will not be practical "I" will decide." She paused, "You are not allowed on the furniture." She saw my confusion and smiled, "Something you don't understand?"
"No, Mistress, I mean-"
"This is MY furniture, in MY house. You are not allowed on it unless I give you express permission, which won't happen often. There's simply no need for you to 'sit'. There is plenty of work to keep a maid and secretary occupied, and none of it requires sitting."
"Yes, Mistress"
"You like to wear high heels, I'm simply providing you an opportunity to wear them...constantly...all the time. Rather generous of me, don't you think?"
"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you Ma'am."
She cocked her head toward the kitchen, "Move your computer to the ledge above the counter. That should provide a place for you to use it while standing. You can work, standing on a hardwood floor in your heels, and be readily accessible to service me."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"You have a lot of heels, don't you?"
"Yes, Ma'am. Mistress has been very generous in allowing me heels."
"I have, haven't I? And I expect to see you wearing all of them. You will change throughout the day...and afternoon...and evening. My own little living high heel model. You may change whenever you like." She picked up her bell, "But if I ring this bell and say 'Heels' you will go and change, and return and model your heel selection. If I don't happen to like them, you'll be disciplined with six strokes, cane, whip, paddle, my choice. Then you'll go and change into something else...and you'd better hope I like those."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"No matter how many hours you've been in heels, I expect perfect posture, you will take tiny steps, your tushy and titties out, tummy in. Perhaps I'll allow you to kneel or crawl at times...maybe."
"Yes, Ma'am, thank you, Ma'am."
She laughed, "I condemn you to days and hours of foot misery, and you thank me." Seems reasonable enough. Also, you will begin wearing gloves at all times."
I nodded and bobbed another curtsy, "Yes, Ma'am."
"Do you know why?"
"Because, uh, it please Mistress to make me do so?"
She considered this. "I suppose so. After all, you do things simply because I order you to. Three reasons. One, you will wear gloves because I say you will. Two, you will wear them because I don't want you touching my things with your bare hands." She waved her hands to indicate her house, "Everything here is mine, even you belong...to ME. This," she poked at my chastity device with her crop, "and the useless and hideous thing inside belong to me. And I don't want you touching any of it with your bare hands. Three, the gloves will make you look cute and sexy. When I have guests they will enjoy seeing my little slutty sissy maid in her dress and heels and gloves mince about my house, serving me and my guests. Perhaps they'll even be excited by your appearance and want to fuck that sissy pussi of yours. You'd like that wouldn't you?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Slut! You may find it difficult, at first, performing all your daily tasks wearing gloves. Not my problem, I don't care. You'll adapt soon enough, in a few weeks or months. I'll also expect to see several glove changes throughout the day. We'll start getting some use out of all your gloves and heels...won't we?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
She snapped her fingers. "Go change your heels and put on gloves, then make me some fresh coffee."
I executed the deep curtsy required when leaving her presence and teetered away, remembering to take small steps and swish my bottom as required.
"Shorter steps," I heard her call out to me as I walked away, "or I'll bind those knees again."
I remembered when she first started my "training". By Saturday afternoon she was disgusted with my 'steps' and wrapped me in saran wrap from my waist to my knees, leaving my chastised cock free and on hideous display. She secured the wrapping with duct tape. The rest of the weekend I struggled around the house, forced into the tiniest of steps, taking forever to move from one place to the other. Mistress was amused by my plight. "Too difficult?" she said. "Too bad. My advice is to learn to walk like a proper slutty sissy maid, and the sooner for you...the better."
(c) 2010 Constance Pennington Smythe

Did you enjoy that my darlings? Then go and do it, stay in those heels ALL day. Let the sound of your stilettos clicking around the house be music to my ears. Be my precious high-heeled slut.

Mistress Constance