I had no training as a cook so it should have been no surprise when I overcooked some steak for dinner one night. They cut the steak in chunks and watched me remove my tampon and jam the pieces up my pussy. I wasn’t allowed to remove them until I retired.
Of all the outrageous tests, Jenny checked the baseboards in the den with a white glove. They didn’t pass. They didn’t even come close. I spent the afternoon in the corner, bent at the waist with my wrists attached to my shoes. They didn’t beat me, but it was the next morning before my back quit hurting.
There was something every day. It was obvious to me that a satisfactory job on my part was a pipe dream. They always found some minor infraction and delighted in punishing me. Their favorite targets were my nipples. The hormones had them puffy and sensitive. Over time, using tit clamps, they attached everything but the front bumper from a car to them.
After breakfast everyday I was given a hormone injection and four different pills. I had no idea what the pills were and wondered if they were poisoning me, but I decided they had everything I owned so what would be the point.
Each mistress used me as a toilet once a week in lieu of one of my meals. When they had visitors I was the entertainment. They would show me off then Jenny would piss in my mouth. Before they left, I would service every pussy or cock in the place.
My diet was a startling change. We used the sunroom on the backside of the house for most meals. The slanted ceiling and three outside walls were glass and the floor was a rich brown stone. There was an immaculately manicured garden surrounded by a high brick fence. I normally ate with my mistresses. The big difference was that I sat crossed-leg between them on the floor for my meals.
They had continental breakfast most mornings. If they ate meat it was in small portions. I had a delicious diet shake. They ate lunch away from home except on weekends. On Saturday and Sunday I served a half a deli sandwich with cold slaw, potato salad or a fruit cup.
