A soft, pale hand cupped on my back as Natalie's fingers wrapped around me. I shudder at the wave of pride I feel over the manicure I recently gave my goddess. I always close my eyes for this part: the lift off. I'm taken out of the sock and underwear drawer Natalie so graciously made my home-- at least when I'm a good slave.

"Let's get you dressed," Natalie stated, opening a small, novelty trunk that once held jewelry. Now it's full of my clothes-- sorry, HER clothes, that she picks out for me.

When my feet touch the top of her dresser, I immediately drop to my knees in habit. I don't like to watch her pick what she's going to dress me up in. Not that my averted eyes matter, as I'll get to see myself in whatever garb she likes for the rest of the day.

"Hmmm..." Natalie murmered in thought, "I haven't seen you in this in a while." Pinched between two fingers, a frilly, pastel-pink maid's dress, fit (and quite literally made) for a doll shined bright in the morning sun. Complete with white stockings topped with pink bows, an apron (that at this point, has seen better days), and headpiece to match. 100% silk, aside from the apron and stockings. Natalie spent a ridiculous chunk of money for this doll collector's item-- that is, a ridiculous chunk of money to me... spare change to her.

The dress draped over me when Natalie's fingers let go, like a claw machine. I don't question it. I don't groan. I don't even sigh. I say, "Thank you, goddess," and put it on.

Natalie was always a type A personality, even when we were engaged. Her pride was something, I'll admit, I was attracted to when we were dating. By the time she grew more comfortable around me, and I started to see her true colors, I surpressed the realization that her narcissism was toxic, to say the least. I loved her, whether or not she made the waiter say "Please," for his tip; whether or not she was angry at the person on the other end of a call for hanging up first; whether or not she had me do all the chores she didn't want to. I knew, even back then, at the end of the day, all Natalie wanted was control.

The power she held over me was a dream come true for Natalie, topped with the satisfaction of revenge for my infidelity. I read through the contract, just like she advised me to, and felt horror at what I saw. While I've never uttered this aloud, it can be held up in court as a quote from me-- signed rather than said:

• "I, Caleb redact and cancel all of my rights as an Americsn citizen. I grant all my rights to life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, and all amendments currently in or added to the Constitution of the United States of America to the control and power of Natalie, and those may see fit."

... and so on and so forth. I'm not going to go into all of the details of the contract. It's hundreds of pages, filling in any loophole, taking away any chance I might have or choice I might make as an autonomous being that wants out of this situation. She controls me... my everything.

The only hope I have in gaining freedom is in a payment of $1billion dollars-- that is... after paying off the debt I already owe her, plus what is accumulating from her providing food, water, housing, clothing, electricity, gas... anything at all she can charge me for, all at her discretion. At this point in my life, I have no paycheck. After all, she's my boss, she decides my wages-- which have dropped to below minimum since my hire, and she takes all of it. She controls all of it. And I'm contractually obligated to pay it back and obey her until then. That, or prison, which can be decided at any time, for any reason by her. But that's a last case scenario. Natalie would never give up the opportunity to enact revenge upon the man that caused her such heartache. If I refuse a task, I'm generally punished until I do it.


The day I realized this, sitting under Natalie's desk rubbing her feet through her moist nylons while she went about her meeting with her paralegals, I thought about what I could say to convince her to end this. This all happening before I read the contract I already signed. I was ignorant to what she might inflict on me.

When their meeting was over, I spoke up "Natalie?"

No response.

"Can we talk about this?"

"Maybe after my foot rub," she answered, blunt in her tone.

I tried to speak up, "I just think this is a little-" but was cut off by the bottom of her damp foot meeting my mouth. I shuddered at how damp tbe nylon felt on my lips. Her toes encased my nostrils in a fragrant cage.

I shut up. This woman freed me from debt, or worse with those loan sharks involved. I was in no position to complain. My silence convinced her to remove her foot from my lips.

By the time lunch rolled around, I was still rubbing Natalie's feet. She rolled her chair back and, without so much as looking down at me, commanded, "Put my shoes back on." I did so, hands trembling in nervousness. Natalie stood up, and gestered me to come out from under her desk. "I'm going to lunch," she said, rummaging through her purse to find a dry cleaning ticket. "Go pick this up, get me a coffee how I like it, and when you're done, get back under the desk and wait for me."

"Listen," I tried to speak up, "Can't we talk about this?"

"If there's time before lunch is over, we'll talk." Natalie walked out of her office before I could respond. With the ticket in my hand, I ran her-- sorry-- MY errands.

I hung the mesh dry cleaning bag on her door, as I usually did. Her coffee steamed, making a reminding me of the heat from those putrid high heels. I remember those from when we were dating. I'm pretty sure they're older than our relationship. And she expected me tocwait for her under her desk again? Hell no.

I sat down in a chair in front of her desk. I looked down at the center, the other side of where she stuck me the past two hours, and expected me to return there again. While it's a solid-wood desk, the legs elevate it enough that somebody-- ANYBODY could notice me if they simply looked down from where I'm sitting now; a seat meant for clients, coworkers, guests...

My train of thought derailed by the force of my heart dropping; "Are you kidding me?" Natalie scolded, not quite yelling.

I dove right in. I didn't want to bother with introductions, "Look, Natalie, I get that you're upset with me-- you have every right to be-- and I am more than thankful for your generosity in paying off my debt and giving me a job. But please, I'm begging you for... for..." (the right word escaped me here in this panic) "... civility! This-- this contract is going too far!"

"You could have just not signed it," Natalie said, shrugging. She sat at her desk and retrieved the contract once more.

The document hit the desk between us, displayed before me like a tome. This is where Natalie filled me in; on the debt, the impossible potential for my freedom, possible prison time. I was frozen. Fight or flight weren't options for me right now.

Any "But..."s and "What if..."s from me were negated with "Nope,"s and "Here's why," from her.

I poked and prodded over the legitimacy of this contract. Natalie was more than willing to dicate all of the legalese I didn't understand as to why this contract was legitimate.

"Any other questions?" Natalie asked with a smile. My stunned silence answered for me. "Good. Now... on to phase two."

"Ph-phase two?" I stuttered as Natalie stood and walked over to the dry cleaning.

"With all that being said, unless you're looking for jailtime, I suggest you change into your new uniform."

Natalie smiled, biting just the tip of her tongue with her pearl-white teeth, peeking out from within her deep red lipstick as she unzipped the mesh dry cleaning bag slowly, sinking my heart into my gut as the zipper descended.

That's when I tried to run. I was more than ready to shove Natalie out of the doorway, but she moved and let me run. I didn't anticipate what would come next.

The end of the hall didn't seem to get any closer to me. I was still in motion, no doubt, moving forward, but it was like I only ever made it halfway there. The walls beside me started to drift away, eventually out of reach. I tried to scream, but couldn't. Nothing felt like it was inhibiting me from speaking, I just couldn't. I stopped running and stood still, realizing that the world around me was growing.

I quickly realized, this was not the case. The world wasn'r growing, I was shrinking. I dropped to my ass in shock, looking up at the impossibly tall mansion that was Natalie's law firm. The floor beneath me pounded louder and louder, like an earthquake, or a heartbeat, or... footsteps.

I sat between the pair of high heels worn by the woman-- sorry-- GODESS, that would rule my life from here on out.