It All Comes Out In The Wash

Mildred Smith adjusted her turban as she walked up the path to her friend Jane's small terraced house on Rochester Avenue. The summer heat made the nylon of her housecoat cling uncomfortably to her skin, but Mildred barely noticed. Her mind was focused on what needed to be done.

"Hello, darling," Jane called from the kitchen as Mildred let herself in. "Just making some tea. Come on through."

Mildred followed the sound of her friend's cheerful voice into the small but neatly kept kitchen. Jane was already pouring tea into two mugs, her movements quick and energetic. At forty-two, Jane was still an attractive woman, with a trim figure and blonde hair that she dyed herself to hide the occasional gray strand.

"Hard day at the office?" Jane asked, handing Mildred her tea.

"You could say that," Mildred replied, her expression unreadable. "Business is booming, but it takes its toll."

As Jane turned to fetch the milk, Mildred reached into her pocket and extracted a small paper packet. With a deft movement that would have been imperceptible to anyone not watching carefully, she emptied the contents into Jane's mug, stirring quickly as the powder dissolved.

"Well, the laundry business can't be that bad," Jane laughed, sitting down at the small kitchen table. "At least you're your own boss."

"There are advantages," Mildred agreed, watching as Jane drank her tea. "And disadvantages."

They chatted for another ten minutes about trivial matters—customers, the weather, Jane's upcoming holiday to Spain. As the minutes passed, Jane's speech began to slur, her eyelids drooping slightly.

"Feeling a bit tired," she said, attempting to stand but sitting back down heavily. "Must be this heat."

"Perhaps you should lie down for a bit," Mildred suggested, her voice calm and even.

Jane never had the chance to reply. Her head hit the table with a soft thud as the drug took full effect.

When Jane woke up, it was to confusion and shame. She was naked except for a steel collar around her neck and a chastity belt around her waist that was cold against her skin. Mildred had vanished, but she had left a few surprises. Most of Jane's clothes had disappeared from her wardrobe, replaced by just a few slutty alternatives—short skirts, revealing tops, stockings, and high-heeled shoes that Jane would never have worn voluntarily.

Handcuffs had been attached to her bedframe that hadn't been there before. Her phone was gone, along with her purse and wallet. Jane pulled on the least slutty thing she could find—a tight black dress that barely covered her thighs—and headed for the front door, her heart pounding.

Her keys were gone, but the door could still be opened from inside without them. She would have to see Toby; what if something had happened to Mildred? He would know what to do.

Jane reached for the handle and screamed as a double shock ran through her body, generated simultaneously from the collar and the chastity belt. The jolt of electricity sent her crumpling to the floor, her muscles convulsing involuntarily.

She lay there for a few minutes, gasping for breath, then slowly stood and ran to the back door. The same thing happened—the moment she touched the handle, another painful shock sent her to the floor. The process was repeated with all the windows; she was trapped in her own house.

Defeated, Jane went and sat on the sofa, putting her head in her hands and sobbing. When she lifted her head, she saw a package on top of the television that hadn't been there before. There was a fancy card with one word on it: SLUT.

With trembling fingers, Jane undid the pink ribbon and opened the box. Inside was a DVD disc and an old flip phone. The words on the disc read "Play me."

Jane switched on the television and inserted the disc, her hands shaking so badly she almost dropped it. Images of her and Toby fucking in Mildred's bed appeared, followed by clips of them fucking all around the house—the kitchen counter, the shower, the living room sofa. Jane watched in horror as her most intimate moments with Toby were displayed on the screen.

Then Mildred appeared, but gone was her nylon housecoat and turban. She had transformed into her best sexual self—her toned body encased in black leather, her hair styled elegantly, her painted lips curled into a predatory smile. She looked strong and beautiful, a vision that Jane couldn't help but admire even as she trembled with fear.

"Hello, slut," Mildred began, her voice cold and authoritative. "You're probably wondering what's happening. Let me explain—you're trapped in your own house. The collar and chastity belt you're wearing respond to invisible sensors at every exit and window. Try to leave, and you'll be shocked. Simple but effective, don't you think?"

Jane stared at the screen, tears streaming down her face.

"I know what you're thinking—something terrible must have happened to me," Mildred continued. "But nothing has happened. I simply decided that you and Toby needed to be punished for breaking our rules. No fucking other people in our home, and no affairs with friends and family. But you broke both rules, didn't you, Jane?"

"You and Toby will learn to obey me now," Mildred's voice continued relentlessly. "You are my bitch, Jane. You will do exactly as I say, when I say it. The phone I've left for you can only call one number—mine. When it rings, you will answer immediately. When I text you instructions, you will follow them without question."

"I've posted a video of you and Toby on a secure website," Mildred added. "If you disobey me, if you try to resist, that video goes public. Your family, your friends, your work colleagues—they'll all see what a slut you really are. But if you're a good girl, if you do exactly as I say, perhaps I'll let Toby keep his balls intact."

The video ended, leaving Jane staring at a blank screen, her body trembling. She was trapped, humiliated, and completely at Mildred's mercy. The full weight of her punishment crashed down on her as she realized this wasn't just about revenge—she had become Mildred's property, to do with as she pleased.