Chapter Five
The b***h that Owns Us
My wife and I were naked, in leg and arm shackles, on our hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen for the third time with toothbrushes when I heard the front door. The b***h was back. The reason we were scrubbing the floor is because we were her slaves. She owned us. We had come here for a fun kinky week of serving Mistress Chapman and she had decided to keep us. We hadn’t agreed but she didn’t care. That was two years ago.
“Hello, my pretties,” Ms. Chapman said as she entered the kitchen. “Have my little pets been good?”
Of course, we’d been good. Even though we’d been left alone, and I had seriously wanted to as least kiss my wife, I hadn’t dared. The b***h had cameras all over the house and I wasn’t prepared for the agony that would befall both of u
