Left BracketTHE CORD/BARNETT FAMILYRight Bracket


Servex heard the bell ring and scurried quickly as his high-heel-clad feet would allow him. As he hurried down the long hallway to the bedroom of his Mistresses, he heard the bell again. That was not good. Two rings and the pair of female demons could accuse him of dawdling. Then, another pang of fear: had he turned off the fire beneath Mistress Gem's morning oatmeal? Oh God, she was so fussy about the thickness and consistency of her oatmeal.

He arrived at the bedroom door panting more from fear than exhaustion. He remembered to curtsy. His two Mistresses were sitting up in bed, elbow to elbow. They were both scantily covered; Jesse wore a short diaphanous teddy and Gem had a tie-front lingerie top that bared one perky breast, the pink nipple catching Servex's eye.

"Servex," Gem Barnett sighed, "why is it so frigging cold in this house? The flowers are dewing over and my nipples are erect, and now Mistress Jesse won't leave them alone."

Jesse Cord, Gem's "life partner," laughed.

"But Mistress, there's a thermostat right in this..."

Servex never completed his sentence. A sudden stab of electric shock to his genitals nearly doubled him over in pain. He was lucky: Mistress Gem, holding the remote zapper, had set the shock value at a minimal voltage, and she did not hold down the button for more than a second.

Jesse Cord laughed again.

"Tsk-tsk," Gem sighed, fawning sympathy. "How many times do we have to tell you that the word but is a no-no?"

"I beg your pardon, Mistress," Servex groaned breathlessly as he moved to the thermostat, a mere five feet from their bed. "How much higher should I raise it, Mistress?"

"How the fuck should I know," Gem growled. "Just make it warmer, you idiot." Jesse laughed one more time as she added, "But not too warm." Oh God, Servex thought, how will I ever satisfy these two tyrants? But he couldn't, and that was the point. Gem Barnett (age 25) and Jesse Cord (age 28) were not just sadists; as lesbians they were first in rank in the school of man-haters.

Not that Servex was much the image of a man, not after Gem and Jesse had gotten hold of him. Now, as his shaking hand reached on the wall to re-set the room temperature, his attire and accoutrements were totally feminine, forced upon him by the man-haters from hell.

Aside from the ridiculously brief and flouncy French maid's outfit, his uniform consisted of fishnet stockings and high heel platform shoes. The maid's outfit came with a small white apron attached, and had short but bulbous cap sleeves. His own hair remained masculine, but was covered by a ridiculous French maid's cap. He was not forced to grow his hair long or apply makeup as the tyrants needed him for errands to the outside, and there was no way he could pass... he was athletically built, with good shoulders, those of a professional tennis player.

Each glance in a mirror appalled him, a reminder of how far he'd fallen. The worst part, though, were the shoes. He stood with his feet impossibly tilted, his toes forced painfully into a cramping point. Were these things calculated to be too small for him? Or was it that male feet were not designed for this territory? In any case, he had no choice but to walk around in the twin torture chambers the entire day and night. And there was no rest from them, as two small but effective locks kept the wide ankle straps in place, making the shoes impossible to remove.

He turned back to face his owners. "Will that be all, Mistress Gem?"

"No, idiot, finish our breakfast and get it back here fast. Jesse wants to rape me and I don't want her starting anything before I eat."

Jesse pinched Gem's exposed nipple, and Gem cried out, laughing. She slapped Jesse's hand away.

Servex curtsied again and tip-toed out.

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