When we finally reached Your house, Sir, I remembered being somehow surprised by its ordinariness, its bland similarity to the houses around it. I have no idea why I thought it would be somehow different; I certainly wasn’t expecting to find a dark, sinister castle filled with torch-lit dungeons or anything like that. It just seemed strange in its lack of strangeness.

Here I was after being led, in nothing but my panties and at the end of an improvised leash, for block after block through the streets of my town by a man who had simply taken possession of me. And here was that man, calmly unlocking the door of a pleasant-looking two-story house, pale yellow with dark green trim, which seemed as though it could have belonged to anyone.

And it occurred to me, with something of a shock, Sir, that most people who know You probably do consider You to be a more or less ordinary human being; someone who mows his lawn, goes to the supermarket, attends social gatherings and talks about sports or politics or whatever. My mind found that nearly impossible to grasp, Sir.

I had no idea what to expect after You led me inside, dropped the shopping bag with my clothing and closed the door behind us. I’m sure I was hoping that You would simply throw me down on the floor, tear off my panties and ravage me. I can’t tell You how much I would have welcomed that, Sir, after being in a continuous state of arousal for what seemed like hours. But I had already learned the value of simply keeping my attention on You and waiting for Your instructions.

So when You flipped on the light switch then dropped the end of my leash I simply waited and watched as You walked around turning on other lights. I must tell You, Sir, that it felt odd, and even a little wrong somehow, to suddenly be left on my own after following behind You for so long. And when You returned and without a word simply removed the belt/leash from around my neck I felt…bereft for a moment, as if I had lost my connection to You.

I wanted You to say something comforting to me, to maybe welcome me to Your home or tell me that I had done well in following You there so obediently. Instead You pointed down the short hallway to a door and said brusquely, as You returned Your belt to its loops, “Get me a glass of iced tea. The pitcher is in the refrigerator.”

Then You simply turned away and went into the living room, which was just off the hallway. I watched, stunned, as You sat down in the large overstuffed chair that faced a coffee table and a big-screen television, picked up some mail and began to sort through it.

My sadness quickly changed to anger. It wasn’t enough that I allowed You to treat me like a pet; now I was Your servant as well? The bag with my clothing was still there on the floor next to me where You had dropped it, and I had an overwhelming impulse to snatch it up, march out the door and slam it behind me. I actually began to reach down for it…

No. I had already learned that it was too late to turn the clock back, to try to become once again the person I’d thought I was before You turned my life upside-down, Sir. I was there to learn what it meant to belong to You, Sir, and I would learn.

So even though my hands were still trembling with anger, I straightened up, managed a barely audible “Yes, Sir,” through gritted teeth and padded away on bare feet, through the door and into the kitchen.

The kitchen had obviously been given a thorough renovation in the not too distant past.