The next morning, a Sunday, I awoke before the alarm, and got to my feet. Allie was still zonked. Her thighs were encrusted and bloody. She was beautiful. I prodded her belly with my toe, not gently, and was rewarded with an "Oof." "Up, lazy wench. This is the first day of the rest of your life." She groaned, and then, with surprising grace, flowed into a kneeling position. I say surprising, given how stiff and sore she must have been. "How may I serve you, master?" I reached around and took the chain off of her ankle, and the cuffs from her wrists. "Go make my coffee, shower, put on your robe, and get back here. You have twenty-five minutes." I went to take my own shower. She made it in time, just, put the coffee on my desk, and knelt at my feet. It was clear that she wasn't eager to sit, just yet. "OK, it's time to establish the expectations under which you'll live in your new role. Here are two notebooks, and a pen. On the cover of the first, write 'Policies and Assignments.' I'm about to give you a list of policies, which are long-term rules you must obey any time a given policy applies. Assignments are one-time things I want you to do, like pick up a quart of milk on the way home, or whatever. Policies go in the front of that notebook, assignments in the back." "On cover of the second, write 'Discipline.' I expect you to put an entry in that notebook any time you feel that you have done less than demanded, less than your best, less than perfection. Call my attention to it. I will put in the correction I consider appropriate, and will check it off when it has been executed, which may be some time later. At the top of the first page of each notebook, write, in large letters, 'ABSOLUTE OBEDIENCE.' You will keep a copy of your love letter attached to the inside front cover of the 'policies' notebook. You are to keep both of these notebooks available to me. As a practical matter, that means that when we're in the house, just don't lose track of where they are. When we leave the house, you must have them in your hand, or in your bag." "Now, policies. When you are in the master bedroom suite, you will not speak without permission. Anywhere else, I love the sound of your voice, and I want to hear you. You are smart, and witty, and I want you to talk to me, whenever you wish. But in this suite, no. How do you get permission? If I ask you a question that you can't answer by pointing, or nodding, or raising so-many fingers, you automatically have permission to speak. Otherwise, take a position where I can see you, and raise your hand, just like in grade school. If I give you permission, you may speak. Write that down. Not verbatim, but make notes of the important points." She wrote. "I do not want to be called 'master,' or 'sir,' or any other honorific. Let your actions show your respect. If you find it necessary to use a noun of direct address, you may call me 'Mr. Kennedy.'" She wrote. "Some owners want a slave that does exactly what she's told, when she's told, never anticipates an order, and no more. I own you in part because of your mind. Be inventive. Anticipate my desires. Look for ways to please me that I don't expect. Surprise and delight me. Astonish me! Of course, if you get it wrong, it will go badly for you." "You will not normally be naked during the day. I want you to put together a wardrobe of clothing that you will wear around the house. I'm thinking in terms of the degree of coverage of a tennis dress, or a swimsuit coverup, or an ice skater's costume, or the kind of thing a desperately horny girl would wear clubbing. Use your imagination. It should be clothing you'd be mortified to be seen wearing in public. We may have guests here from time to time, some of whom will not know of our relationship, and I won't give you the opportunity to dress any differently for them from the way you do for me. Maintaining anything like decency should be a constant struggle, and a losing battle. I want you clothed, but only just, not because I expect to become bored with your enchanting naked figure, but because I want to have the ability to deny you clothing as punishment, or for my amusement. I don't want you to get used to being naked. There is nothing less interesting than a slut. This is implies an assignment." She flipped to the back of the notebook and looked up. "Go shopping for day clothes." "Further on clothing." She flipped to the front of the notebook. "You will wear nothing that blocks my access to your cunt or ass at any time, in public or in private. No panties, no pants, no pantyhose. Now that I've broken you in, use a tampon during your period." "Policy: you will be totally hairless below the neck. Assignment: shave, then acquire and use a home electrical depilatory kit." "Your lips will be slack and your mouth open at all times." "You will keep your asshole greased for my use at all times." I waited while she caught up. "I will demand that you take care of yourself, both physically and mentally. Assignment: enroll in a health club and sign up for any exercise regimen that keeps you limber and fit. I don't care if it's yoga or kickboxing or anything else. Work up a sweat five days a week." "In terms of keeping yourself fit mentally, I've had some discussions with Chancellor Reed of the State University here in town. He's reviewed your record from Saint Virginia along with your SATs, and sees no reason why you shouldn't be able to enter State as a freshman immediately. You'll..." "Jack! State! Omigawd, State!" "Allie. What have you just done? Look at the policies." Her mouth snapped shut, and she scanned down the policies. She had spoken out of turn, and addressed me incorrectly. Another scan through the policies. I had asked her a question she couldn't answer by pointing, so she automatically had permission to speak. "I spoke without permission in the master suite. I didn't call you 'Mr. Kennedy.' I'm sorry, Mr. Kennedy." "You will be. Put it in your Discipline Book. I'm not going to beat you for this--too many beatings shows a lack of inventiveness on the part of the owner. Besides, it was your mouth that sinned, not your back or your ass. For 'punishment,' put 'four hours with gag.'" She looked up at me, and swallowed. "Write it. And there's no time like the present." I reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a penis gag, one recently made to my own specifications, in that the depth of oral penetration could be easily adjusted. She still had some trouble with her gag reflex, and this was an opportunity. I guessed at the right depth, and strapped it home. "Awrk! Hngrrh!! Hngrrh!!!" Hmm, back off a quarter of an inch? Ah, that will do. She was far from comfortable, gagging every few seconds, her chin pointed upward, swallowing constantly to fight the reflex, but that was the idea. "Note the start time in your Discipline Book." She did, with difficulty. "And when you drool, clean it up. Come back to me when the time is up and I'll remove the gag." "As I was saying about State. You'll need to take come catch-up courses to make up for the year you will miss at Saint Virginia, but the Advanced Placement courses you took will partially offset that. And put in an assignment: Complete application paperwork for State. That will be all for now. You're dismissed." She stood up, wiped the drool that was already forming on her lower lip, and came around my desk and kissed me. That's hard to do with your face is as full of machinery as hers was, but she managed somehow. Then she followed her nipples out of the room, trailing behind her the occasional sound of choking.